Mike laughed. “A-fluttery?”
“A-fluttery. It’s a very technical term meaning horny.”
Mike laughed. “Well, don’t do that again. You scared the crap out of me.”
She held up her right hand as if she were taking an oath in court. “I swear on my mama’s brazier: I will never do that again.” She leaned forward again. “Listen. Just relax, man. I like you. I think you’re hot. I like being around you. It’s fun to watch other women look at me and think, what’s so damn special about you, bitch.” When she said that, she put her hands on her hips and moved her neck from side to side. That made him laugh again.
She leaned forward again. “And, you’ve got to admit, I’m pretty cute, too.” She put her arms on the table and leaned forward even farther. “Come on, admit it. I’m cute.”
He caught the game. “No. I don’t want to.”
She motioned with her hands like she was coaxing something out of him. “Come on. You can do it. Say I’m cute.”
He smiled. “OK. You’re cute.” He held up his thumb and forefinger to indicate a small measurement. “A little bit.”
“There. Was that so hard?”
“So we’re both cute. What now?
The waiter came and Donna said, “I’m Italian. Let me order.” She ordered some veal and salads. When the waiter left, she said, “So we hang out. We have fun. We go places and do things. I become your social worker and you become my only caseload.”
He made a face at her.
She leaned forward again. “Mike, look at yourself. You think I’m crazy. You’ve got all the money you will ever need, you’re thirty-one, you can have any woman you want, and all you do it beat up things. You could go anywhere in the world and do anything you wanted to do, and all you do is stay home and beat the holy shit out of everything around you. You tell me, baby. Who’s crazy here?”
He laughed again. He had to admit it, what she said made sense. “OK,” he said. “I’m crazy. And you want to save me from myself?”
She leaned back and slapped the table. “Exactly. And I’m just the girl who can do it. So, what do you say, cowboy? You want to have some fun?
He squinted his eyes like he couldn’t make up his mind. “What did you have in mind?”
“We’ll be buddies. We’ll hang out. I’ll help you drive the girls crazy and you help me drive the boys insane. We’ll be the emotional Bonnie and Clyde of the new millennium. We’ll drive everybody nuts.”
“There’s enough crazy people in this world.”
“I disagree. There’s not nearly enough craziness around here. If there’s one thing this messed-up world needs, it’s more craziness.”
“And you won’t get serious and you won’t try to have sex with me?”
“Oh, hell no. Far be it from me to force my shapely ass on you, although you have no idea what you’re missing. You just need to relax, man; all you do is hit things. You could do anything you want to do anytime you want to do it and all you do is get sweaty. You’ve got to know there’s something very wrong with that, something seriously wrong with that,” imitating Bill Murray in Stripes. He laughed; he loved that movie. “Wouldn’t you say?” she continued. “I mean, really, Mike, there’s something really shitty about that whole setup.”
He almost howled with laughter.
“There,” she said. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. When’s the last time you laughed like that? You dumb Irish Mick. You big hunk of man meat. When’s the last time?”
He shook his head, laughing. “A long time.”
She leaned back. “OK,” she said, like she was a physiatrist who had just made a breakthrough with her patient. “Now, let’s eat. I’m hungry.”
The food had come and they ate. It tasted good. He had to admit it; he hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time. She was actually very funny. She was a natural con. She was like a chameleon: she could adapt to anything and anywhere, and all of her considerable talents and energy were pointed straight at Mike Valentine.
After lunch, they walked back to her work. She put her arm through his and this time he didn’t mind. The last thing she said was, “Mikey, I’m going to lay this out to you, and no strings attached. If you ever want some unencumbered, uninvolved, meaningless sex, I’m your girl. Just say the word, and I’ll wrinkle your prune like you wouldn’t believe.” He looked at her. “Relax, big boy. I just like sex. Now, Friday night, you’re picking me up and we’re going to eat some pizza and then go to the movies. You’re going to buy me some popcorn and a coke and we’re going to see something really stupid. Am I right, you muscle-bound Mick, you fat-headed Irish bastard?”
He laughed again. He couldn’t help it. “Deal. Call me and tell me what time.”
She extended her hand and he shook it. “Deal,” she said, laughing inside. She went back to work thinking, Damn, I’m good.
Chapter 9
The next day Natalya’s letter came. As he opened the envelope, a picture fell out. He picked it up and saw Natalya leaning up against a short concrete wall. Her elbows were resting on top of the wall, and one foot was bent and resting directly against the wall. She had on high heels, black nylons, and a short skirt. “What great legs,” he said to himself. He had always been sort of a legman. Her pulled back arms stretched the material on her blouse to show a flat stomach and nice breasts. Looking at her, he felt a twinge in his groin. He found her devastatingly sexy. Her long hair was in back of her but in its thickness flared out on either side. Her oriental eyes sparkled at him from half a world away. Her heart shaped lips were parted in a beautiful smile revealing strong, even, white teeth. The hand written letter read:
Dear Mike,
I was very happy to receive your letter. I have read it many times and each time is better. Thank you. Also thank you for my pictures. But, Mike, you must do me favor. You must never again say you are not a handsome man. You are. You are very handsome. I think you are a beautiful man. I think that if there is a person who is not beautiful, it is me, not you. So, that is last time you will say that you are not handsome man, or think that I am too beautiful for you. I am not – I am only Natalya and I hope that nice American man named Michael Valentine likes me.
I am sorry about your family. We have both decided that your wife was very beautiful and nice and your daughter was perfect. It is sad thing and I am sorry. It hurt you very much. I understand death. It is very sad.
I also must tell you that I am glad you are interested in me and I am very interested in you. My cousin says that you are a very good man and I believe her. Rolf also says you are a very good man. It is his job to judge people and he makes very much money judging what people do and who they are. He is very impressed by you, and he is never wrong. So, if you are still interested in me, then I am here for you. I promise I will wait for you to decide. I know that we have never met and I know we do not know each other. But I have a thought about you. I think in America you say feeling. I believe this is very good thing. So, I wait for you, Mr. Valentine in Sacramento, America.
He put the letter down and tried to breathe. “Damn. Can this be happening?” He continued reading.
I now tell you about me. I have twenty-nine years. I have never been married and have no children. I want children very much. I want very much to be good mother and good wife. It is my