To Die For (24 page)

“I guess you’re going to take that workshop out in California this summer,” I said.

“Yeah,” she says. “They’re going to have this woman there that hosts a morning talk show out of Portland, Oregon. Also some talent scouts who handle placing people like her in some of your midrange television market cities.” Which is the place a person has to start.

“That sounds exciting,” I say. “You know,” I say, “I don’t have to stick around this town.” I mean, anytime she wanted me to come be her secretary, it wouldn’t matter where, I’d drop everything and do it. She wouldn’t even have to pay me, until she was up in the big time.

“I’ve been reading about Kathy Lee Gifford,” she says. “The one that’s on mornings with Regis Philbin? And how she married this old guy that was a sportscaster, and even though he was twenty years older than her, they decided to have a baby. She stayed on the air right through her pregnancy and everything. Looked great. She even demonstrated these exercises so women at home who were expecting—which is a big part of your target audience after all—could do them right along with her. The day she came back to work after having the baby—which was like, two weeks after he was born—Regis Philbin got the highest ratings in the entire history of his show. She’s doing baby food commercials and stuff. Everything’s worked out great for her. Deborah Norville now, she was a different story. Talk about water weight gain. No wonder they fired her.”

Cody. That was Kathy Lee’s baby’s name. Cute.

“How’s Jimmy doing?” I asked her. “He hasn’t been around.”

“James?” she says. “Gee, how would I know?”

I said I thought they were in love and stuff. I figured he’d be with her every second he could now.

“Oh, boys,” she said. “They get some pretty crazy ideas. I mean, they really lose their perspective. Someday you’ll understand.”

“What about—you know,” I said. “What happened.”

“Let me give you some advice, Lydia,” she says to me. “Get back on your diet. Throw away all the M-and-M’s you’ve probably got hidden away in your locker. Throw those dorky glasses out. And if you think Jimmy’s so great, go after him yourself. Be my guest.”

“He’d never look at me,” I said. “He’ll never look at anyone else as long as he lives. He told me.”

“Well then I guess he’s going to have a lonely life,” she said. “Because frankly, he’s just not my type.”

I
CAN’T EAT.
Don’t sleep. Lie there in bed, alls I see is her face, her body. My hands shake, my dick’s burning. Every time I see a Datsun I start to sweat.

I’m no dope. Like they say, I see the writing on the wall. And still I can’t help myself, acting like a fucking creep that’s crawling on his belly, begging for it.

Laying there, I get to thinking what I did wrong. Maybe I came too quick. Maybe I didn’t kiss her enough. Maybe I had bad breath. You read in
Penthouse
all about making chicks come, and how important that is. Shit, I don’t even know if I made her come or not. I don’t know what it looks like. I seen it at the movies. But it’s not like with guys, where you can tell real easy. You get the idea you’re supposed to know, and you’d seem like an asshole if you asked. Nobody ever explained it to me. It’s not exactly the kind of thing you sit your old man down and ask him. Not my old man anyways.

One time I was with her, the last time, when I was over at her house, I got this scarf off her. She used to wear it around her neck. Fastened with this little pin. She didn’t give it to me or nothing. I took it. I took it because it smelled like her.

So there I am laying on my bed, holding on to this fucking scarf for chrissake, and jerking off for maybe the tenth time that day. My mom yells up the stairs, someone’s here to talk to you, Jimmy. Better get down too, it’s a cop.

You want to see a dick shrivel in record time? That’ll do it.

I
T’S—WHAT?
B
EGINNING OF
April? Eleven o’clock at night, eleven-thirty maybe. Chick I know is over, we’re making out, watching some show on the tube, nothing special. My old man and my old lady off at the track. Jimmy comes in, doesn’t knock or nothing. I remember because I had my hand down Charlene’s shirt right around then and I was working on the ground floor. He interrupted the mood, you might say.

“We’re in deep shit, man,” he says to me. “Cops came round asking all about Larry Maretto. Guy said they aren’t buying the burglary angle. Said people at school are saying we hung out with her. Asked what I knew.”

“So what did you tell him?” I want to know.

“Nothing,” he says. “You think I’m crazy?” But he’s worried. Once they start sniffing around there’s no telling what could happen.

“Look,” I say. “They’ve been looking into this thing for weeks now and if they don’t have a thing by now, what are they going to come up with? We got rid of the gloves, right? Nobody seen us, nobody seen Lydia take the gun. We’re cool.”

Jimmy says the cop wanted to know how he liked Mrs. Maretto. “She’s real pretty isn’t she, Jim?” he says. “I never noticed,” says Jimmy. Yeah, right. “Anyways, she’s old.”

“I hear you’re quite the TV star,” says the cop. “You really bared your soul to Mrs. Maretto on that tape of hers. Anything else you bared while you were at it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” says Jimmy.

“All’s I’m saying,” says the cop, “is I suppose you had to spend quite a bit of time with Mrs. Maretto, working on an in-depth piece of journalism like that.”

“A little,” Jimmy tells the cop. “Not that much. It was more Lydia.”

“Well then I guess we better go talk to Lydia,” says the cop. And that’s when we get worried.

W
HEN
I
GOT HOME
from school that day there was a police car out in front of our mobile home. First thing I wanted to do was run away. Run over to Suzanne’s, ask her what to do. But of course I couldn’t do that. They’d probably already seen me. They were just waiting for me.

I walk in and there’s three policemen sitting there with my mom. She’s got the sound turned off the TV. I mean, why watch the soaps when you can have this in your own house, right?

She’s got the photo albums out, a plate of Fig Newtons on the TV table, her macrame. Looked like they’d been there a while. Great, I think. They probably know our whole life story by now. Right up to Chester running away with the manicurist from Pawtucket and the doctor that says she might lose the leg. I wish I could die.

“Hello there, Lydia,” says the little cop, the skinny one. “Your mother’s been telling us a lot about you. Why don’t you sit down and join us?” The way he says it sounds friendly but you know it’s not really a question.

“We understand you had quite a friendship with Suzanne Maretto,” says the big one. This one isn’t such a friendly type. He looks like the kind that everybody thinks is so great because they don’t see what he’s like with his wife and kids at home. Kind that says, “You listen to me, young lady” and takes a fly swatter to your butt for fun. I know about them.

“Well I guess you could say I knew her,” I say. Just keep your mouth shut, I’m telling myself. I’m digging my fingernails in my arm, just to keep reminding myself. Knowing I’m not that smart and I might forget.

“In fact,” the other one says. This one’s the hardest to figure. He’s got a nice face. But he asks the toughest questions. “We understand she used to take you shopping. Bought you clothes, even.”

“Not really,” I say. “I mean, they didn’t even fit.”

“You must’ve got to be pretty good friends,” says the big one. “You and she and Jimmy Emmet and Russell Hines.”

Shit, I think. Now they’re in on this too. I’m wondering what they said. What if they told, and now I’ll be in worse trouble for lying. Or they didn’t tell, and I’ll get in trouble for telling something on them. I start to feel dizzy. It’s like where the reception goes all fuzzy all of a sudden, or you start picking up somebody’s shortwave on your cable. I’m getting all these different voices coming in at once. The little cop telling me there’s nothing to worry about, they know I’m a good girl and not trouble like the boys there. The big cop that’s saying do I know it’s a federal offense to withhold information pertinent to a capital crime. The nice-looking one, saying where was I the night of February 21. My mom telling them I come from a broken home, and this has been a bad year for me. And I’m on this liquid diet, it makes me light-headed. She knew the minute she heard about Mrs. Maretto it was trouble. Her living at Number 6 and all. Rice cakes. Whoever heard of rice cakes for breakfast?

“Russell’s a liar,” I say. “Everybody knows his reputation. He’s just trying to get Mrs. Maretto in trouble. Jimmy—I don’t know what he’s doing. Russell’s just got him all messed up, most likely.” Then I told them how much Mrs. Maretto loved Larry, had his picture on her desk and everything. I told them how broken up she was after he got killed. “You don’t know her like I do,” I said.

This cop said he wasn’t arresting me or anything, he just wanted to talk. “I’m not going to take you down to the station,” he says to me. “Let’s just go for a drive. I’ll buy you an ice cream.” “No,” I said. “I’m on a diet.”

I didn’t want to go, but if I didn’t I figured they might get the wrong idea. So the whole time we’re driving, I’m telling him about Suzanne and me, and the type person she is. How she bought me the ankle bracelet and stuff. And that we tell each other everything, and it’s like we’re sisters. “She’s such a soft-hearted person she couldn’t kill a bug,” I tell him. “You should see the way she is with her dog, Walter. It’s like he’s a person. She’d do anything for him.”

“She sure is pretty,” the policeman says to me. “I guess Jimmy Emmet probably had a crush on her.”

“Everybody thought she was nice,” I say. I’m starting to wish I was smarter. I know from TV the way they trick you in these police investigations. I wish my brain worked better, so I could outsmart them if they try anything like that. Alls I can do, I figure, is talk slow and think a long time before I say anything.

“And he’s pretty cute too,” cop says. “Kind of looks like one of those New Kids on the Block.” Even me, I can tell what he’s doing saying that. Just trying to look like he’s cool about stuff kids like. But you know he isn’t.

“She was more of an Aerosmith fan,” I say. Just so he doesn’t think Suzanne liked Jimmy or anything.

“And probably Larry, he didn’t understand her,” the cop says. “One of those marriages where the two people just aren’t communicating anymore. Happens all the time.”

I don’t know what I should be saying here. Maybe it would be a good idea to let him know Larry wasn’t perfect. Just so they’d understand how hard it was for her, and where she was coming from and stuff. Him not supporting her career and all. How she’d end up homeless if they got a divorce. Lose Walter and everything.

“Maybe,” I say. “Everybody has their problems, I guess.”

“She probably didn’t even mean to get involved with Jimmy,” he says. “It was just one of those things that happens when two people spend a lot of time together, and one of them is in an unhappy marriage, and the other person shows them some attention and respect. It could happen to anyone.”

“I don’t know if you’d call it involved,” I say. “We just worked on a video.”

“Yeah,” he said. “But then Jimmy fell in love with her. And she probably didn’t want to hurt his feelings or anything. Her being so sensitive and all.”

“She really wanted to help him,” I say. “He was the type that never got into school stuff before. She said he had the kind of looks, he could even have a future in broadcasting. Like she could picture him being a sportscaster or a weatherman or something. Or the guy that picks the daily number in the lottery.”

“And she was so lonely,” the policeman says. “Larry working long hours probably. And not even understanding her when he was around.”

“There was this workshop she wanted to take to improve her employability in the media, but he didn’t want her to,” I say. “And another thing is, Larry used to hit her. But she was always protecting him, so she never let on to anyone. Except me of course. And Jimmy.”

“That must have been very upsetting,” he says.

“I never thought I’d see a person like her cry,” I say. “But it wasn’t like she was a TV reporter after a while. It was just like we were a couple of girlfriends. We’d just stay up late telling each other everything, like we were at a slumber party. We never had any secrets from each other.”

“And Jimmy probably just helped her forget all her troubles and be young again,” he said. “The kids at school say you three used to drive around together to the mall and the beach and so on. There’s some wild story going around, about Mrs. Maretto getting a tattoo over at Little Paradise. Easy enough for us to check that out, I guess, when the time comes. Kids are always making up stories, of course.”

I didn’t know what to say then. So I just sat there a long time. By now we’re at the beach, so I just stare at the ocean, wishing I could jump in and swim away. I mean, I loved Suzanne. She was the best friend I ever had. I cared about Jimmy too. I started to cry.

He puts his arm around me, like he’s my stepfather or somebody. Well not like that luckily. “You weren’t thinking you were doing anything wrong. When two people are in love and their circumstances get in the way, it can be a very tragic situation.”

“Like Romeo and Juliet,” I said. “We saw the movie in English class. You knew they were meant to be together but their families ruined it. They couldn’t live without each other.”

“Jimmy said that’s how he felt about her. And you can tell she’s a very passionate person too. Very sensitive, like you said.”

“She told me it was bigger than both of them,” I told him. “And it didn’t matter that they came from different walks of life, and different worlds and everything. It was like Billy Joel and Christie Brinkley, where he’s a rock star and she’s a model. Or Van Halen and Valerie Bertinelli. That’s another one.”

“She was just a very emotional kind of person,” he said. “She just couldn’t hold back her feelings.”

“He said once they’d been together he didn’t even notice any other girls,” I told him. I mean, I knew it was all over now. Best I could do was just get him to understand. How they were good people and all. They just got confused. They got carried away. It was like a wave that just knocks you off your feet or something. Love will do that to a person.