Uptown Girl Page 20

  Kate, concerned about him hurting Bina’s feelings, decided to comment. ‘Well, you’re wearing all black and you brought your own ball.’

  Billy served Kate an insincere smile. ‘That did make it less of a challenge.’ He looked over at Michael. ‘Hey, Mike, how big is your ball?’

  ‘Ten pounds,’ Michael answered. ‘And I prefer to be called Michael,’ he added flatly. Kate saw him narrow his eyes. It was clear that he wasn’t enjoying himself. But it seemed as if he also sensed that something was going on between her and Billy.

  Bina reached over for her cola. ‘I haven’t been bowling since Annie Jackson’s sixth-grade birthday party. Remember, Katie?’

  ‘How could I forget?’ Kate said, smiling at the memory. ‘I threw up Pop Rocks all over myself.’

  ‘Oh, yeah!’ Bina squealed. ‘Gross.’ She looked over at Billy and licked her lips again.

  Billy joined the two of them at the scoreboard. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he said and put his foot down right beside Kate’s and on her shoelace. Kate moved her foot away, pulling out the bow. ‘I think some women look cute in their own vomit.’ Kate, totally nonplussed, pulled her foot up to the seat and quickly retied her shoe.

  ‘Well, I’m sure you’ve had plenty of opportunity to see it,’ Kate said. She turned to Michael. ‘Billy works in a bar.’

  ‘Lots of chances at drunken women,’ Billy said. ‘Right, Mike?’

  ‘Michael,’ Michael corrected. ‘Not in my experience.’

  ‘Well, owning my own bar, I’m sure I have more experience,’ Billy said coolly.

  Kate was surprised to hear that Billy owned the Barber Bar if that was, in fact, the truth.

  Billy stared her down for a moment and then wrapped his arm around Bina. ‘I’m sure I have a lot more experience in quite a few things,’ Billy said.

  24

  ‘Ouch!’ Bina yelled. ‘Ow. Ow.’ She shook her hand like a limp fish at the end of a pole, then put her index finger into her mouth. Kate hadn’t been looking, but as Bina tried to retrieve her ball from the ball return her finger had been crunched by another ball spewed from the maw of the machine.

  Billy bent over her hand, taking it in his. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked. Kate looked away from the two of them engrossed in examining Bina’s nail and turned to Michael who was sitting beside her. When she had put together this ridiculous scheme she had thought of Billy and how he might be angry and difficult. She had thought of Bina, and how she might be disappointed. But she hadn’t thought of Michael and the effect that a night of Brooklyn bowling might have on him. She put her arm around him. He was morose; a lot quieter than usual and obviously disturbed by his poor performance. While he was not a jock, Michael was fit and played squash regularly, where, she knew, he was a tough competitor. He didn’t like to lose.

  Kate looked down at the board, then put her head on Michael’s shoulder. ‘The score doesn’t matter,’ she cooed, and realized once she had said it that her tone was the one she used when she was talking to her young patients. ‘Are you having fun?’

  Michael ignored the question, as he so obviously was not. ‘I can’t believe I’m coming in third,’ he said and shook his head. Kate wondered if she should try to do poorly, just so Michael would have a shot at second place, but she knew that her score and Bina’s didn’t matter. Michael was pissed because Billy was beating him, and doing it by so wide a margin.

  Just then, Billy approached them. He picked up his drink from the holder, then shook his head as he observed the scoreboard. ‘Well, we’re all having a pretty dismal night,’ he commented, but Kate thought she saw him smirk as he went up to help Bina prepare for what would almost certainly be yet another gutter ball.

  Kate ignored them and turned to Michael. She felt responsible for this and didn’t like to see him upset. If she was completely truthful with herself, she’d have to admit she also didn’t like to see him bested by Billy. It was foolish, she told herself, to feel that way or to allow Michael to have that view. It was some vestige of the Homo sapiens fight for Alpha male position. ‘People often confuse athletic scores with personal identity,’ Kate said.

  ‘Sure. When the Cubs lose I feel my world falls apart,’ Michael almost sneered.

  Michael was from Chicago and the fact was that he did root for the pathetic Cubs each year but they never performed. He didn’t mind, he said, because it was just a tradition in his family. Kate felt now was not the time to point out that this wasn’t the Cubs pitted against another, superior baseball team. It seemed to be Michael pitted against Billy Nolan. And Michael, in a word from her youth, was getting schmeisted. Despite that, his concern was ridiculous.

  ‘This isn’t that hard. I can’t believe I haven’t rolled a strike.’

  ‘Oh, it’s just for fun,’ she tried to remind him. ‘Bowling was never your game. It’s for the working classes. Anyway,’ she said, waving toward Bina, who was still at the line dithering. ‘No one does worse than Bina.’

  Billy, sipping his soft drink, overheard her, grinned and laughed. ‘Eye on the head pin, Bina,’ he encouraged. Then he put down his cup. ‘Hey, wait!’ he called. He left the pit and stepped behind her, put his arms around her and changed her stance. Kate, watching them, felt a twinge of what she wouldn’t admit was jealousy. Then Bina, guided by Billy, released the ball down the lane – this time with her eyes closed. The group watched as the ball rolled directly down the middle of the lane and almost miraculously knocked over all the pins. Kate’s mouth dropped, but not as much as Michael’s pride did.

  ‘OHMIGOD! OHMIGOD! I hit them. I hit them all!’ Bina shouted.

  She did a victory dance which included her reaching both arms up to the ceiling and, incidentally, exposing a significant part of the fuchsia underpants beneath her tiny skirt. Kate watched as bowlers from other lanes smiled, pointed, and gave her a thumbs-up sign. It was at that moment that Kate spotted the Bitches! That was all she needed, for them to come over and congratulate Bina on the bowling and the boyfriend. ‘Touchdown!’ Bina yelled. Then she gave Billy a big hug. Kate thought she saw him use the opportunity to clutch Bina’s butt, though she couldn’t be sure because Bina immediately let go of Billy and ran over to Kate. ‘I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it,’ Bina said, her arms under Kate’s own while she jumped back and forth. ‘I knocked them over!’ Just then Bina’s celebratory embrace knocked the beer out of Kate’s hand and all over the front of Michael’s shirt.

  ‘Bina, you are on a roll at knocking things over,’ Kate said, as Michael jumped up. Kate rose to survey the damage and checked to make sure the Bitches weren’t coming over. But Barbie was at the ball return and Bunny seemed to be playing, though Bev sat it out, her hands on her bowling-ball belly. Phew, all was safe, except for Michael.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Bina said to Michael, flushing bright red. She grabbed for the already damp Bowl-a-Rama cocktail napkin that was lying on the scoreboard top. Michael was holding his shirt out from his body, his elbows extended like a man impersonating a rooster. Kate could see it wasn’t only his shirt but also his lap that was wet. Bina began to ineffectually dab at his chest and crotch. Michael took a step backwards. ‘No. Let me help. I can get it right out. Club soda on the shirt. Club soda and salt on your pants.’ Kate almost smiled in spite of Michael’s discomfort. The Horowitz family were experts in removing every stain from every possible material: wine on linen, ballpoint on silk, tar on leather. The list was endless, and often discussed. Kate took Michael’s arm. He looked helplessly at her.

  ‘Hurry up,’ Bina insisted, taking his other arm. ‘We have to do it before the stain sets. Trust me, I know.’

  ‘She does,’ Kate said, nodding at him.

  ‘Maybe it’s all right,’ Michael volunteered, but then looked down at himself. It was anything but.

  ‘Go with her,’ Kate said.

  ‘Yeah. Let’s get you cleaned up,’ Bina told him as she led Michael away from the lane.

  Kate watched him go and felt deeply
sorry for inviting him. He disappeared into the crowd, like a damaged ship being pulled by a little tug boat. Bina would take care of this. It was her forte. Kate sighed.

  ‘Not Mike’s day.’ Kate turned around to face Billy, who was leaning on the side of their banquette, his legs crossed and his eyebrows raised. ‘Not much of a player.’

  ‘Just because he’s in third place…’ Kate began.

  ‘Last,’ Billy interrupted.

  ‘Excuse me?’ Kate asked. Billy pointed at the electronic scoreboard. He took a step closer to her. She felt his arm against her shoulder. She also felt heat rise up from her chest to her neck and hoped it wouldn’t show as a blush on her face.

  ‘Last,’ he said again, and leaned forward to tap the score. ‘Since Bina’s strike he’s in last place.’ Kate felt a little lightheaded. Billy Nolan was so very close to her she could smell his soap and the heat of his healthy body. For an insane moment she had an impulse to simply close her eyes and fall into his arms. Instead she took a step away and picked up a bowling ball.

  ‘You’re just jealous,’ she said, almost panicked and not exactly sure of what she meant.

  He turned to face her instead of the score. ‘You’re right, I am,’ he said in a steady voice.

  ‘You are?’ Kate asked, but couldn’t match his steadiness. She was surprised at this admission.

  ‘Yeah,’ Billy said. And then continued, a lot less casually. He lowered his voice but it rose in intensity. ‘I thought I was going on this date with you. And you knew that. I can’t believe I fell for the old bait and switch, or that you played me that way.’

  Kate dropped the ball back into the ball return. Despite the truth of what he said, she felt indignant. She’d done it for the best of reasons, and who was he to claim a higher moral ground? ‘You’re on a date with my best friend,’ she said defensively.

  ‘Really?’ Billy asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm. ‘Is that what you thought?’

  ‘Yes,’ Kate lied. ‘And then you insult my boyfriend and come on to me. What is wrong with you?’

  ‘Well, for one thing I like to pick my own women,’ Billy said. And he looked her over from head to toe. He paused, took a couple of steps away from her and sat down on the banquette, crossing an ankle over his knee. ‘For another, I certainly wouldn’t pick Bina,’ he said bluntly.

  Kate felt a surge of anger on behalf of her friend. She had feared something like this would happen and now her main concern was that Billy wouldn’t humiliate Bina. She silently cursed Elliot, Barbie and the whole bunch of them. Playing with people’s lives was always dangerous and right now she was the one about to face retribution for their stupidity. ‘That is just plain rude,’ Kate told him.

  ‘Rude to be angry when I’m tricked? I’m just calling it as I see it,’ Billy said and he reclined back on the seat.

  ‘I guess that’s why everyone calls you like they see you,’ Kate accused, almost ready to launch into a sermon about his predatory reputation.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Billy said, sitting upright and putting both feet on the ground.

  Kate controlled herself, but with difficulty. She just didn’t want to see Bina hurt and she had to try to get out of this somehow. She turned away from him. ‘It means every woman in Brooklyn, perhaps with the exception of Brooklyn Heights, knows your reputation,’ Kate said and went to pick up her purse.

  ‘What reputation?’ Billy asked. He stood up and followed her. When she didn’t answer him or turn around, he put a hand on her shoulder and turned her to him. ‘What reputation?’ he asked again.

  ‘Oh, come on. Don’t you know everyone calls you “Dumping Billy”?’ Kate was exasperated.

  ‘“Dumping Billy”? Why?’ Kate looked up at him. He was tall, at least seven or eight inches taller than she was, but she could see his eyes cloud. He seemed to have been completely unaware of his nickname. ‘Why the hell would they call me that?’ he asked.

  ‘Because you dump every woman you date.’ Kate looked toward the bar and the restrooms beyond. When would Michael and Bina return? She was tired of this conversation, and only wanted to salvage the rest of the evening.

  ‘I don’t dump women,’ Billy said. For the first time he seemed defensive. ‘I mean I’ve broken up relationships, but I don’t dump people.’

  ‘Oh, come on,’ Kate said. ‘My friends know a dozen women you’ve dumped. I didn’t make up the nickname. Anyway, your behavior is pathological.’

  ‘What?’ Billy demanded. He’d clearly gone from defensive to angry.

  Kate knew she’d gone too far and spoiled what was left of the evening but couldn’t resist taking a deep, annoyed breath. ‘Path-o-log-i-cal,’ she said slowly, as if for a child. ‘It means…’

  ‘…Any abnormal variation from a sound condition,’ Billy finished for her. Kate blinked. She was taken aback that he could spit out the accurate definition so quickly. Billy pushed past her, grabbed his bag and turned back. ‘It also means I’m out of here. The bad news is, I did just dump Bina but I wish I could’ve dumped you. The good news is that now your friend Michael has a chance of coming in third.’

  He was gone in a minute and Kate stood beside their almost deserted lane wondering what she could possibly say when Bina and Michael returned.

  25

  The next morning, Kate sat in her office face to face with a young girl. Tina, a high spirited third-grader, was sitting in one of the tiny chairs with a big bandage on her arm. Tina had injured herself over and over, but Kate didn’t think it was caused by clumsiness or by a need for self-mutilation. She thought that Tina probably had a repetition compulsion: for some reason she had to keep acting out the trauma of being challenged and frightened and forced to respond. While many professionals in her field dismissed the idea, Kate had always found the concept of repetition compulsion very valid.

  Kate had been talking with the child for over an hour now and she felt that progress had been made. ‘So you won’t do that again?’ Kate asked Tina.

  Tina looked up at her and smiled. ‘No,’ she said, then added, ‘Not unless Jason dares me.’

  ‘If he dares you to jump off the roof…’ Kate stopped herself. Where had that come from? It was the kind of line her father might have used. Instead, Kate smiled, almost closed her eyes and leaned forward toward Tina, the girl who couldn’t refuse a dare. ‘I dare you not to,’ Kate said. ‘I bet that you have to do anything Jason dares you to.’

  ‘Do not,’ Tina said.

  ‘Dare you not to,’ Kate said.

  She wasn’t sure if the counter dare would work or if Tina really might jump off the roof. Just then the bell rang and interrupted her thoughts. ‘We’ll talk about your friendship with Jason next time, okay, Tina,’ Kate said.

  Tina nodded again, slid off the chair and bounded from the room.

  ‘I told you, it just won’t work.’ Kate said each word slowly and distinctly so Elliot might possibly get it through his mathematical head. ‘Zero, null set, no way. Impossible. Finished. Kaput.’

  ‘But are you sure?’ Elliot asked.

  She gave him a look. They were going to their gym, Crunch. A place that ran cool ads on television and that had as its motto: ‘No judgments’. But Kate was ready to make a few judgments now. Even for him, Elliot looked awful. They were walking up Eighth Avenue and he was wearing baggy shorts, a torn T-shirt and a madras fishing hat that must have come from some thrift shop, while his feet displayed two mismatched socks. ‘You know,’ Kate said, trying to change the subject, ‘you look like a recently released mental patient.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Elliot said. ‘It was the look I was going for. Brice helped me.’

  Against her will, Kate smiled. How a guy as fashion-impaired as Elliot could couple up with stylish Brice was unimaginable to her. But they were a solid and happy couple with enough things in common to make their lives congenial and enough respect for their differences to make life interesting. It was hard to imagine how Brice would have let Elliot o
ut of the house dressed so embarrassingly badly, but she knew that he, always immaculately clad, just shrugged, laughed, and hugged Elliot. Then the image of Michael and his sports jacket the night before came unbidden to her mind. Just because Michael dressed inappropriately was no reason for her to judge him, but somehow she was.

  ‘I want to find out exactly what happened, sentence by sentence, word by word, act by act.’ They turned west on Eighteenth Street and Kate looked at Elliot with hostile amazement.

  ‘How does it feel to want?’ Kate asked. ‘If you think I’m going to go through last night all over again, you can think again.’ They reached the door to the gym. ‘And you can warm up by yourself.’

  They had both gotten memberships at Crunch so that they could work out together and force one another to go. It usually worked pretty well but Kate was in no mood to dissect the previous evening. The fact was she was a little bit ashamed, both of her ruse and her behavior. But that didn’t mean she had to tell Elliot that. At the door to the women’s locker room she turned to him and said, ‘Spot yourself. I’m going to find a straight guy to work out with.’

  After she had changed into her workout pants and loose top, twisted her hair into a scrunchie and stuck it on top of her head with hair pins, then stowed her stuff in the locker, she came out, only to find Elliot standing there, just where she left him.

  ‘Oh, come on,’ Elliot pleaded, as if she hadn’t just been gone for ten minutes. ‘You never tell me anything anymore.’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ Kate laughed, exasperated. But she couldn’t refuse him. She went into detail about the whole awful night – how Barbie dressed Bina up like a Las Vegas showgirl, how Billy showed up thinking he was her date and not at all happy to find out he was Bina’s, and how they finally got into an argument at the end of the evening.

  ‘I give up,’ she laughed. They walked to the mats and Kate grabbed a big blue plastic ball to begin their warm-up. She leaned backward over it to stretch the front of her body. The stretch felt good and Kate took a deep soothing breath. Stretching was the only part of working out that she actually enjoyed and she needed it after last night and today. While Brian Conroy had improved and was able to cry over the loss of his mother, a new child, Lisa Allen, had been sent to her because she seemed ‘withdrawn’. From the girl’s body language and some indefinable intuition, Kate suspected abuse. That was the most troubling of all the problems she ran into. As if that wasn’t enough, Tina Foster had been sent to her for the second time because she had taken a ridiculous dare and jumped off the top of the playground wall simply because Jason Franklin had said she couldn’t do it. Kate sighed. Releasing some of her tension felt good. She would even relish a good session on the treadmill because after a mentally exhausting day at work, Kate thought the best way to ensure a sound night’s sleep was to physically exhaust her body.