Part 20 (1/2)
”Are you all right?”
”Yeah.”
Tom takes off his wet jacket and hangs it up on a hook by the door.
”Where were you really?”
”I can't believe I have to explain this all over again.”
”What?”
”I've told you at least three times, and here I am having to tell you again.”
”What are you talking about?”
”I was in an alternate universe.”
”What did you do, go to Mexico? You should have told me, I would have gone with you.”
I laugh. ”I was in an alternate universe. A different plane of reality. Another world.” I roll my eyes. ”Whatever you want to call it, I was there.”
Tom is silent for a moment, waiting for the punch line. ”Felix sold you some LSD or something?”
”No.”
”What are you talking about, then?”
”It's not important.” I pull my emergency money out of my pocket and hand it to him. ”Here. This should take care of my share of the rent for a couple months.”
”What? You going someplace?”
”Yeah. I'm leaving again. I might not be back.”
”Where are you going?”
”I've got a ranch house somewhere, and uh . . . a girl.”
”Oh! Aha!” He grins. ”Now the truth comes out. You're shaking up with someone. She isn't married, is she?”
”Ah . . . no. She's not.”
His grin falters. ”This means I'll have to get another roommate.”
”Yeah, if I'm not back by the time that money runs out.”
He looks down at the money in his hands. Now his expression is somewhat sad. Tom puts it in his pocket and slaps me on the shoulder.
”Join me for a drink.”
”Sounds good.”
As we head to the kitchen, he says, ”Tell me about this girl.”
”She could be Heather's sister,” I tell him. ”She looks almost exactly like her.”
”No!” Tom looks intrigued. ”Where did you meet her?”
”San Francisco.”
”Really?” He pulls out margarita mix and salt, sets them down, then pulls ice out of the freezer. I grab a bottle of tequila and two gla.s.ses. For a moment the whole apartment is filled with the sound of ice being ground up in a blender.
I salt the rims of the gla.s.ses; Tom pours the drinks. ”I went over and saw Pris today,” I tell him.
”How's she doing?”
”She's still hurting. She misses you.”
”I know.” Tom shrugs. ”I'm not in love with her. What can I do?”
”I understand.”
”Tell me more about your girl. What's her name?”
”Judy,” I tell him, saying the first name that comes to mind. ”Judy Jones.”
”Judy Jones?” He smiles --- he likes the name. ”What does she do?”