The Weight Part 22

"You know, like weightlifters or bodybuilders or whatever you are."

"I'm not any of those."

"That body built itself?" She kind of sneered, as she cupped one of her b.o.o.bs and jiggled it.

I closed my eyes. Kept chewing and swallowing, chewing and swallowing.

"I hurt your feelings?"

"No," I told her. "But you're a bad listener."

"How do you know?"

"Because you answer your own questions."

"That's what happens when n.o.body else will."

"You actually want to know? You really give a rat's a.s.s about me not being a weightlifter or a bodybuilder?"

"I always always want to know things. New things, I mean." want to know things. New things, I mean."

More f.u.c.king word games, I thought. But I figured, if I want to ever get a look at Albie's books, see if the one Solly wants is in there, I have to go along. So I told her: "A weightlifter, he's trying for the most he can lift. He don't care how he looks. Could have a belly on him like a wrecking ball, it wouldn't matter. Power-lifters, they're pretty much the same, only they do different kinds of lifts. It's all about how much weight you can rack up, not how many times you can do it. But bodybuilders, all all they care about is how they look. Weightlifters, they talk about leverage, position, they care about is how they look. Weightlifters, they talk about leverage, position, driving driving the bar. Bodybuilders, it's all about definition. The look. How you're cut. Vascularity." the bar. Bodybuilders, it's all about definition. The look. How you're cut. Vascularity."

"What?"

"The more the veins pop out, the better. That's why they shave."

"Everywhere? Like...girls do?"

"Everyplace that shows. They put tan on, too. Not in the booths-that's bad for you-like a lotion."

"Are they all f.a.gs?"

"I don't know. I guess it's the same everywhere. Some are, some aren't."

"But you're not either?"

"What are you-? Wait, you mean, how come I'm not a weightlifter or a bodybuilder, right?"

"Sure," she said, flashing a big smile. She had perfect teeth.

"They're both all about...compet.i.tion, I guess. It's not about lifting weight; it's about who can lift the most most weight. The bodybuilders, they have contests, too. Those are about how they look. Like beauty contests." weight. The bodybuilders, they have contests, too. Those are about how they look. Like beauty contests."

"And you don't like to compete?"

"What for?"

"I don't know. I mean, people compete all the time, don't they? Women do, anyway. When I walk through the mall, I'll bet there's more women checking out my a.s.s than men. Why do you think that is?"

"Men don't spend that much time in malls?"

She walked over to where I was sitting, stood over me, hands on her hips. "That was very sweet."

"I wasn't trying to-"

"That's what made it sweet, stupid."

I only had a little of the last power bar left. I chewed it, making it last.

"You need special food?"

"Not special. Just not certain kinds of stuff."

She walked over to the counter, grabbed a pad and a pen, and sat down next to me.

"Give me a list."

"Do they have, like, a GNC store around here?"

"They've got Florida State University, Wilson."

"I don't get it."

"Don't follow football, huh?"

"No."

"What I'm saying, this town is lousy with athletes. Every kind you can think of. Besides, I'm used to tracking down food. Albie, it had to be glatt kosher. You know what that is?"

"Jewish food?"

"Extra-Jewish food, yes. Now, come on, give me that list. I have to go out shopping anyway."

"I'll go with-"

"Let me show you something first."

"This must have cost a fortune," I told her. The place looked like a Nautilus showroom, a different machine for everything. Plus all kinds of free weights. Jump ropes, pull-up bars. A shower next to a wood-and-stone sauna. Even a lap pool.

"You're not so far off. After Albie had his first heart attack, I had this built. Not that I could ever get him to really use use it or anything-he'd just sit there and watch it or anything-he'd just sit there and watch me me work." work."

"You-"

"Six days a week, honey. It's different for women. For us, the compet.i.tion never stops. You might not always get a medal, but, you come in last too many times, you end up out of the next race."

"That doesn't sound fair."

"Aw, poor baby," she said, in a sad little voice, making sure I knew it was fake.

"Not fair to Albie, I was saying."

"What!"

"You're a gorgeous girl. But there's no way you look the same as you did twenty years ago, right?"

"Don't be so sure," she said, sticking out her chest again, like she was selling implants.

"The man stayed with you twenty years. He didn't leave you, he died, right?"

"Right."

"And he had a ton of money." he had a ton of money."

"He did."

"So how are you being fair to him, talking about all this compet.i.tion stuff?"

She made some sound I couldn't understand, then just turned around and kind of stomped out.

The machines were incredible. Better than I'd ever used. Took me only a few minutes, and I had it down. Thirty minutes on, ten off. Three times.

I wanted to try that sauna, but I didn't know how it worked.

Didn't see a sign of her on my way back to that little suite.

"Wake up, tough guy. No way I'm carrying that load in here myself."

I'd heard her coming this time; so I'd kept my eyes closed, breathing regular, the way you sleep.

The trunk of the Lincoln was packed. Boxes and boxes. Like she bought out the store. A lot of stores. Took me four trips to get it all into the kitchen.

What's she think, I'm f.u.c.king moving in here? I thought. But I kept it to myself. I thought. But I kept it to myself.

I figured she'd go off somewhere, but when I got back to my own s.p.a.ce, I saw a bunch of clothes laid out everywhere, like a store window.

"I'm taking myself a nice long bath," I heard her say from behind me somewhere. "Try on this stuff."

When I turned around, she was gone.

Everything fit. Fit real good. n.o.body's got that good an eye, specially for stuff like underwear and socks. She even had the right-size shoes.

Maybe she'd come in while I was sleeping?

That didn't feel right. Unless there was something in that water...but I'd picked it out myself.

And it was too big a risk for her, pull a stunt like that just to get clothing sizes.

More games?

I put on some workout sweats and went back to the gym. Three more sets. That's when I can think. When I'm pushing weight, my brain goes somewhere else.

Then I went back to the little suite. Took another shower. The one in the gym was better, but I didn't want to take a chance on her walking in.

Seven twenty-one, the clock said. With a little moon.

I didn't see her anywhere. And I wasn't going to test those new clothes until I knew she was out of the house.

So I went back to the kitchen and made myself a protein shake.

I wasn't even surprised to see the mixer, all laid out on the counter.

"I'm good at that, huh?"

"Good at what?"

"Shopping. Got you everything you needed, didn't I?"

"I...guess you did."

"That's my role. And I've got it down pat."

"What's 'role'? Like 'job'? Or like a role in a movie?"

"The last one. I'm the gold-digger the rich old guy married. I drive my fancy little car around and buy things, see?"

"Yeah. That's what you meant before."

"What are you-?"

"You work. But people who see you working, maybe even people who think they know you, they don't. Playing that role, it's just part of the job."

She reached behind her, laid her palms flat, did a hand-press to lift her b.u.t.t off the counter, held it a good fifteen, twenty seconds, then let herself down slow. She hadn't been lying about using that fancy gym.

"So what was that before, more acting?"

She c.o.c.ked her head to the side, like she was listening.

"When you acted like I thought you were stupid, remember?"