Big Swiss(52)

“Without paying?”

“Greta,” Rob said patiently. “Will you stop treating me like a degenerate?”

“A sexy degenerate,” Greta said, correcting her.

They tongued at the table like a couple of losers. Rob smelled more complex than Greta remembered. The top note was the same: the undergrowth of a cedar forest. The middle note varied between almond croissant and armpit musk. When Greta correctly sensed the derision and contempt of the entire waitstaff, she managed to pull away. She decided she couldn’t wait to roll around with Rob in her hotel room.

“So, you had an affair,” Big Swiss interrupted at last.

“Yes,” Greta admitted.

Greta rattled on about how connected Rob had been to old ideas about herself, how strung-out Greta had felt, how her interactions with Rob reminded her of smoking crack—a two-minute high followed by the realization that she’d shit her pants—how ready she was to get off the pipe, to salvage her relationship with Stacy. Instead, she’d ended things with Rob and gone right back to sleep for another two or three years.

“Sometimes I wonder if that’s why I never married Stacy, because I knew I was capable of cheating—not just cheating, but developing feelings—and it didn’t seem fair.”

Big Swiss jiggled the keys in her pocket. Greta realized they were standing next to Big Swiss’s car in the parking area. Greta had been so caught up in her story, she had no memory of crossing the meadow.

“How long have we been standing here?” Greta asked.

“Twenty-three minutes,” Big Swiss said.

“Jesus,” Greta said. “I’m sorry. You must be dying to get home.”

“I’m fine,” Big Swiss said.

“How’s your marriage?”

Big Swiss smiled and said nothing.

“I talked your face off,” Greta said. “You feel stifled, right, like there’s a plastic bag over your head.”

“I feel the opposite of stifled,” Big Swiss said.

While Greta thought of antonyms—“loose,” “released,” “persuaded”—Big Swiss kissed Greta’s cheek. Then she kissed Greta’s other cheek. Then the first cheek again. A Swiss goodbye, Greta assumed, except it happened in slow motion. Greta leaned forward and kissed Big Swiss’s barely parted lips. Big Swiss smiled. Kissing Big Swiss’s teeth was jarring and humiliating, like kissing a bathroom sink. But maybe that was too unkind. It was like kissing a baptismal font full of holy water.





9



OM:?Well, hello. Long time no see. Listen, I had to charge you for last week’s session because you canceled last-minute, and I need a full day’s notice. Sorry about that.

FEW:?It was my fault. I got caught up at the dog park.



“Caught up,” Greta said. “Right.”


OM:?Can you state your initials for the transcriber, please.

FEW:?FEW.

OM:?I haven’t seen you since before Keith got out of prison, correct?

FEW:?Yes.

OM:?How are you feeling?

FEW:?[PAUSE] This may sound slightly paranoid, but I’m being followed.



“What?” Greta said.


OM:?Where?

FEW:?Here, there, wherever I go.

OM:?He’s here? Hold on [OVERLAPPING] I can’t see—wait, move the [OVERLAPPING] no, other way—him? In the ascot? That’s Timmy, honey, he’s harmless—

FEW:?Not him. Him. The guy in the big black [OVERLAPPING]

OM:?—understand how he can afford [OVERLAPPING] really kind of brazen—

FEW:?—[OVERLAPPING] over the bridge—



“Fuck,” Greta said. “One at a time, please.”


FEW:?I think he’s just monitoring my routine.

OM:?It’s called stalking. Have you called the police?

FEW:?No.

OM:?Does he ever follow you on foot?

FEW:?No, but sometimes a woman does. An older woman with a harsh face. She follows me at the dog park.



“I hope to hell you don’t mean me,” Greta said.


OM:?You’re positive about this?

FEW:?She waits for me in the parking area and then trails me, sometimes for thirty or forty minutes, glaring at me the whole time.

OM:?Does she have a dog?

FEW:?Yeah.

OM:?Do you feel unsafe? I mean, does she seem dangerous?

FEW:?Her presence is slightly menacing, yes, but I’m never alone. I meet a friend and we walk together.



“Phew,” Greta said.


OM:?Okay, good.

FEW:?It’s been quite a distraction, to be honest. She talks incessantly.

OM:?Does the woman look familiar?

FEW:?I’ve never seen her before.

OM:?Has your friend?

FEW:?I haven’t mentioned any of this to her.

OM:?Why?

FEW:? We just met, and it’s not a story I’m attached to. I don’t consider it part of my identity.

OM:?What are you going to do about the stalking?

FEW:?Be more vigilant, I guess. I should start keeping track of dates and times. I’m not very good at describing people’s faces, but I always remember clothing. The woman wears a felted Nordic wool sweater, gray sweats with a drawstring, tall green rain boots one size too big. The shade of green is called Jasper, and they’re made by a French company that sells gardening equipment.