You (You #1)(83)

“You look so much happier than you were the day you started in here, Danny.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I feel happier.”

“And things are good with Karen?”

“Things are great with Karen,” I say and they are, technically. Nicky laughed when I first told him about her. He said a girl is a much more effective cat than another YouTube video. He’s right.

“I know that look, Danny.” He grins. “After I met my wife, I don’t think I stopped smiling for two years.”

I blurt, “Oh, we’re not gonna get married, Nicky.”

He gets that know-it-all look and I go further. “I just mean, she’s not it for me.”

He pushes. “Now you don’t look so happy. Are you afraid to get married?”

“Not at all.” And it’s true. I’d marry you in a heartbeat.

“So what’s wrong with Karen, Danny?”

She’s not you. “She’s just . . . nothing.”

“She’s nothing,” he says and he raises his eyebrows. “Ouch.”

I groan. “I meant that nothing is wrong with her.”

“Regardless,” he says and that’s how I know our time is up. “I got some homework for you. I want a list of ten things you like about Karen. The cat helps the mouse stay away. And remember. Thinking about the cat is better than thinking about the mouse.”

“Okay, Doc,” I say and the “Doc” thing is our running joke, you know, because he’s not a doctor. I try to do my homework on the ride home, but I just keep thinking about you.

I’m still trying a few days later as I sit on the couch watching Karen Minty’s favorite show, The King of Queens. She laughs at a joke that wouldn’t make you smile and I love you because you don’t laugh easily. She picks her thong out of her ass and I love you for your healthy cotton panties.

She moans. “I fucking love Kevin James.”

“He’s good,” I lie. I love you because you don’t love Kevin James and if you laughed at one of his jokes, you still wouldn’t love him.

A Burger King commercial comes on—Karen Minty fucking loves commercials—and she flips the bird at the TV. “Bite me, BK. BK fries suck, right, Joe?”

I play along and laugh but I love you because we could be married a hundred years and you’d never ask me what I think about BK fries because you’d never say BK and if you were talking about French fries, there would be more to it than fries. They would have significance. There would be a story there. You’re an onion and Karen’s a Maraschino cherry and I love you because onions are more complicated than cherries. I’m doomed.

I almost forgot that Karen Minty’s head is on my lap and she peers up at me. “Babe, you all right?”

“Yeah.” And I run my hand through her hair the way she likes. “I’m just thinking about my homework.”

Karen doesn’t approve. “I swear, Joe, I think that shit’s a waste of money.”

“I know you do.”

“At the hospital, all the fuckups are shrinks. Every one of them, they’re fucking cheaters and liars and they’re crazier than their patients.”

“Nicky’s not like that,” I say.

She huffs. “Like fuck he’s not. They’re cheaters and liars, Joe, cheaters and liars.”

You never repeat yourself because you’re creative and Karen is not and she pinches my nipple. “Joe, look at me.”

I look at her. “Watch it, miss.”

“What do you talk about in there anyway? I mean you’re perfect, Joey.”

“Nobody’s perfect.” I sound like a teacher. “And I get a little OCD.”

“Yeah.” Karen Minty laughs. “You are OCD . . . on my pussy.”

You would never say anything so crass and I pet Karen Minty and watch Kevin James and I miss you so much I feel sick. Suddenly, I have to go. I stand up.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” She hugs my seat cushion, she’s too needy.

“I’m going to the store,” I say and I grab my keys.

“You want company?” She’s not mysterious.

“No,” I say and I grab my coat.

“You need cash?” She sits up. She’s pathetic.

“No,” I say. “Stay put. I’ll be back in a bit.”

I run down the stairs and I stop. I could do anything to Karen Minty and she’d stay. She has her claws in me, Beck. Her mother is knitting me a sweater and her father wants to take me out on his boat one of these Sundays. I sit down on the stoop. Maybe now that I’m away from Karen Minty I can make a list of things that I like about her.

#1 Karen Minty grew up with three brothers so she’s mellow.

And it’s true. She is mellow. FedEx fucks up the new Nora Roberts and I can put Karen on a subway and send her uptown and she’ll haul ass up there, and drag a box of books back on the subway, up the stairs, and to the shop. And if I ask her to, Karen will unload the books, price them, and stack them. She doesn’t complain, Beck. She wants to be asked, like a little brat trying to do good on Christmas Eve in case Santa is watching. I can even ask her to get out the Swiffer and clean up the dust she noticed while she was stacking.