The Drowning Child

55

Janine was smiling at her as soon as she walked in. Ren ordered coffee and sat down opposite her.

‘Seriously, though,’ said Ren, ‘is there a decent wait time? Is there some kind of etiquette? I wait – oh, six months – and sleep with two men in one week—’

‘Whoa, whoa – two?’

‘Sorry, yes, I slept with Paul Louderback on Friday night.’

‘I thought you had a threesome!’

‘Well, when you put it like that, I guess it could have been worse. Or better. Is this normal? Are mine the actions of someone grief-stricken? Or a whore?’

‘Isn’t Paul married – not that I’m judging.’

‘No, he left her again,’ said Ren. ‘And he’ll go back to her again. He’s a boy in a man’s body. He needs a wife to mother him. But he doesn’t find the mothering part sexy, so he roams free every now and then and gets the sex part. But – and here’s the crux of it – he needs the mothering part more than the sex part, which is why he goes back. He will never admit that to himself because it’s not cool. So I think this will be the loop for the remainder of his life. I will sidestep him next time, though. It’s kind of depressing.’ She let out a breath.

‘You know you’re not at the mercy of these men’s choices,’ said Janine. ‘You get to make your own choices too.’

‘True,’ said Ren. She paused. ‘But I do need Joe Lucchesi to seriously decide to get the fuck out of my life. I can’t handle it.’

Janine shook her head, groaned. ‘I don’t know if you want to hear this, but it’s pretty clear that you have – already – really fallen for that man.’

‘Oh my God. No, I haven’t.’

‘You are useless.’

‘I know that, but, separate to that, I have not fallen for Joe Lucchesi.’

‘Useless.’

‘Ugh,’ said Ren. ‘I don’t know what’s going on. I guess I’m finding it hard to process who I should be after all this.’ She laughed. ‘“I don’t know who I am any more...”’

‘“It’s not you, it’s me,”’ said Janine. ‘Just be what makes you happy.’

‘Happy at the time, or happy afterward?’ said Ren. ‘I think that’s my issue. Happy at the time gets me in a lot of trouble—’

‘Largely with yourself, though,’ said Janine. ‘What standards are you holding yourself up to?’

‘“Ladies”,’ said Ren. ‘Like you.’

‘You know that you don’t actually know my sexual history,’ said Janine.

‘Oh, thank God: you’re a closet whore.’

Janine smiled.

‘Oh my God – you are!’ said Ren.

‘Are you waiting for more information?’ said Janine.

‘Now I feel like a weirdo.’

‘Does any of it matter in the end?’ said Janine. ‘Is sex something to feel guilty about?’

Ren paused. ‘I’m Catholic, remember. But good point. I guess I’ve spent so long thinking...’

‘Overthinking,’ said Janine. ‘You overthink everything. It must be exhausting. You’re not hurting anyone. And if you’re hurting yourself, well, then don’t do it.’

‘It’s not that simple, though, is it?’ said Ren.

‘Stop. Be kind to yourself.’

I don’t deserve kindness.

Joe is kind.

Fuck him.

‘OK, so here’s my issue,’ said Ren. ‘Can you have a guy who makes you want to be slammed up against a wall every time you see him, and still he could be faithful to you?’

‘So, you’re thinking about a relationship,’ said Janine. She smiled.

‘Jesus. Paging Dr Lone, paging Dr Lone. No, I’m not thinking about a relationship... I don’t know what I’m thinking.’ She paused. ‘I guess I like... different types, and I’m afraid of the Joe Lucchesi types. Why would he want to be with me?’

‘Good point, because you’re a loser.’

‘But, also, can anyone really, truly commit to one type?’

‘Basically, this is about the fact you slept with two entirely different types of men in one week?’

‘Four days if we are to fully nail down the sluttiness. But yes. I guess so.’

‘But, you don’t have a type,’ said Janine. ‘You’re personality driven. Yes, you happened to have been with some gorgeous guys, but that was incidental.’

‘Yes!’ said Ren. ‘You’re right. I really don’t care what guys look like... within reason. Make me fucking laugh... and you’re fucked.’

‘Hey, I make you laugh,’ said Janine.

‘Be afraid.’

‘OK – here’s my advice,’ said Janine. ‘Stop worrying. Enjoy! Stop torturing yourself. And I don’t see no ring on that finger.’

Ren looked down at her hand. ‘It’s very bare.’ She looked up at Janine. ‘It suits me bare.’

‘Well, lucky you haven’t put the panties on yet,’ said Janine. ‘Because they would be totally on fire right now. And they cost me thirty dollars.’

‘Thirty dollars – did you get me a multi-pack? Thanks for your optimism. Or your belief in my continued whoredom.’

‘No, I did not get you a multi-pack,’ said Janine. ‘I got you one pair. Of very nice ones. I know who I’m dealing with.’

Ren’s phone beeped with a text from Joe Lucchesi.

Oh, God: the kiss.

Her heart sank. But she was smiling. She looked up. Janine was smiling back.

‘Love...’ said Janine, ‘is a wonderful thing.’

‘Is a fucking nightmare,’ said Ren at the same time.

Half an hour later, Ren arrived at Safe Streets. She went to the ladies’ room and put on the very pretty pink underwear.

She texted Janine.

Janine replied.

Ren wondered if Janine had the same, sudden realization, and whether it turned her stomach too. Because they both knew that, within minutes, Ren would be sitting down in front of two senior FBI investigators and telling lies, lies, lies.