The Good Neighbor by William Kowalski Read Free Book Online Page A

“Yeah, but.”
    “But what?”
    “Maybe they like it,” Francie said, looking out at the boats. “Well, they’re idiots.”
    “Don’t you ever want to get a boat?”
    Frustrated, Colt put his hand back on the wheel. “If I was
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    gonna have a boat, I’d want it to be down in the Keys. Somewhere warm. And I’d want a real fishing boat, not one of these dinky lit tle tubs. A charter-type thing, with two decks and a wheelhouse and . . . all the other stuff you can get.”
    “You can get to the ocean through the Water Gap,” she said. “It’s a long ways, but you can do it.”
    “You can? How?”
    “Down the river,” said Francie. “The Delaware River.” “Why can’t I touch you?”
    “You have to earn it.”
    Colt smirked. “How do I do that?”
    Francie giggled at his impatience. “Through acts of grace,” she said. “Are we going to buy this house?”
    “I don’t know yet.”
    “Then you don’t get to have sex with me,” Francie said, return ing her gaze to the highway.
    They had just entered New Jersey. Colt veered swiftly off the road, making her gasp, and they pulled into the parking lot of the first motel that appeared on the roadside. He turned and leered at her like a high-schooler.
    “Coltrane! What am I, a cheap date?” “I was not aware that we were dating.”
    She stayed where she was. Colt got out and opened her door. The manager of the motel came to the office door and stared at them— a short, squat man in a T-shirt and long shorts, with kneecaps like softballs. Colt crossed the parking lot on winged feet and handed him a couple of twenties. The man reached inside the office for a key and handed it over.
    They went down a cracked concrete sidewalk with weeds growing up through it to a room that smelled of stale cigarettes and chilled air. Colt slammed the door shut and tossed her onto the bed, shedding his clothes, then slowly divesting her of her own. When he discovered the comic book in her shorts, he said, “What the hell’s this?”
    42 W ILLIAM K OWALSKI

    “Oh, that. I forgot. I stole it.” “Bad girl. You need a spanking.”
    “Don’t hurt me,” she said, closing her eyes.

    ❚ ❚ ❚

    They were in there for half an hour. When Coltrane finally col lapsed on the mattress, spent, Francie opened her eyes again and stared thoughtfully up at the ceiling. She was preoccupied by the notion that Colt hadn’t used a condom. That was rather odd, ac tually, she thought. Colt always used condoms, because she was afraid of the Pill (not another pill, she told him), and the other im plements of birth control, jellies and sponges and diaphragms, were all too cold and squishy and intimidating. Had something else changed too, then? Now that they might own this house, were they finally to talk about having a baby? It wouldn’t do to ask him directly; when you wanted something from Colt and thought he might say no, the last thing you did was ask him di rectly. Maybe he had just forgotten. He wasn’t in the habit of car rying condoms around with him, after all.
    At least, she hoped he wasn’t.
    She felt between her legs and touched the wetness that had dripped onto her thighs, rubbing it between her fingers. His se men. She hadn’t felt it in some time. When she was younger, she’d imagined that the marrow in her bones would look just like this, not red like blood but white and shimmery, iridescent.
    Oh, shut up, she told herself. You think too much. And don’t ask him about it, or he’ll get mad, and the day will be ruined.
    “How come we only ever do it after you spend a lot of money?” she asked instead, running her finger through the swirls of hair on his back. Last time, it had been the purchase of his very expensive cell phone that sparked things. The time before that... she didn’t remember.
    “Mmf,” he said.
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    “Coltrane.” “Hm.”
    “Do I still excite you? On a day-to-day basis?” “Hum,” he said. “I’m