“What is wrong with you?” He smiled, shaking his head, and headed back to the couch.
“The damn door wouldn’t open.”
“Uh, try using the key. Big dummy.”
“Oh, okay, I’ll try that next time.” I walked over to the kitchen counter and started emptying my pockets. Loose change, cigarettes, matches, my wallet, two stray dollar bills.
“Where were you?” he asked. He’d been watching me go through this nightly ritual. I knew he was watching.
“I was at class. It was the last one. I told you. Hell-ooo?”
“Come sit down,” he said.
“Okay, wait. I gotta pee.”
I stood in front of the toilet, full stream ahead. Billy was talking about something, something that I couldn’t hear, the pee being louder than his words.
“Wait! Lemme finish.” I yelled out, shook it off, and came back into the living room. He was watching me, again. “What’d you say?”
“I said you’re missing Wife Swap and it’s a good one.”
I took my place on the couch, kicked off my shoes, and sighed. “Wait. Pause it. I wanna get out of these clothes.” He followed me into the bedroom and sat on the bed, watching me. I pulled off my sweater. After I took off my shirt and pants, I slid on some sweats and an old t-shirt, one I’d end up sleeping in last night.
We went back into the living room and I unpaused Wife Swap.
“Wait!” I interrupted myself. “Who are these women?” I wanted to catch up on the missed half hour.
“One’s a mom who works all day and night and is married to a construction worker –“
“Is he cute?” I cut in.
“You’ll think so. The other one is a black woman who’s a real bitch to her husband.”
“Like me?” I asked, all sweet and innocent.
“Exactly!” He gave a broad smile. I spread my arm out, my cue, and he fell softly onto my chest, where he belonged.