In Medias Res Read Online Free PDF Page B

Unless, of course, you tell me you’re staying on one of the other islands. Then we really would have to do some negotiating.”
    I eased her mind. “No, I’m staying close to where you saw me this afternoon.”
    “Then shall we?”
    I followed her to the pedi-cab and climbed in the backseat. She stood on the pedals to create enough force to get the wheels moving. She sat down once we were under way.
    I guess I should have passed on dessert. On second thought, the key lime pie I’d had was worth the extra pound or two.
    “Are you staying at Pearl’s?” Marcy asked, half-turning in her seat.
    “Not quite.”
    “Oh, that’s right. You’re married. Too many lesbians hang out there.” She took one hand off the handlebars and shook her left arm. The rubber rainbow bracelet on her wrist slid toward her elbow but quickly resumed its former position when she reached for the bottle of water clamped to the bar between her legs. She offered me a sip, but I shook my head.
    “You enjoy teasing me, don’t you?”
    She grinned, flashing those peach pit dimples again. “I would enjoy doing a lot of things to you if you’d let me.” She returned the water to its holder.
    I turned my attention to a bearded man wearing black motorcycle boots, tight jeans, black leather chaps, and white angel wings. “I think that’s my cue.”
    “To do what?” Marcy asked.
    I turned back to her so she wouldn’t think I was avoiding the issue at hand. “To end this conversation.”
    “Why? Am I getting too close? Am I making you uncomfortable?”
    “You’re coming on a bit strong.” I held on to the sides of the carriage as she braked for a red light.
    “That’s not an answer,” she shot back. “Neither is ‘I’m married.’”
    She was challenging me. I wasn’t sure if I liked it. “What do you consider an answer?”
    Her eyes bored into me. “That depends on the question, now, doesn’t it?”
    “What’s your question?” I asked, afraid of what her answer would be.
    “I have several, but I’ll start with an easy one.” The light turned green again. “What’s your name?” she asked once we were under way again.
    I told her.
    “And where’s your husband tonight, Sydney?”
    I told her that, too.
    So much for the easy ones. I hoped the degree of difficulty on the hard ones would be relatively low. I didn’t want to lie to her or be forced to make something up. Which, I suppose, were one and the same.
    “And what does he do in Chicago?”
    “He’s a doctor,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t ask me what kind. I didn’t know. He could have been anything. I felt increasingly uncomfortable. The ride wasn’t that far, but it seemed like it would never end. Sharing the narrow road with cars, scooters, and bicycles was nerve-wracking, too. I kept expecting one of them to turn us into road kill. I felt exposed—in more ways than one.
    “What about you?” Marcy pressed.
    “I’m a doctor’s wife.”
    “Besides that.”
    “I’m still working on that one.”
    She looked at me over her shoulder as she turned left on United Street. “Now that is an answer.”
    The traffic on United wasn’t as heavy as that on Duval. With fewer obstacles to dodge, Marcy covered the ten blocks in about ten seconds. She left the pedi-cab at the curb while she walked me to my door.
    “What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked.
    “Grocery shopping. My cupboards are bare.”
    “What about after that?”
    I unlocked the deadbolt and stepped inside to shut off the alarm. “I haven’t planned that far ahead yet.” Standing in the half-open doorway, I held one hand on the knob. I was hoping she’d get the hint without making me appear rude by asking her to leave.
    “Would you like to have dinner?” she asked. “Maybe go dancing? Or better yet, we could get up early, catch a cat, and go snorkeling. The water’s crystal clear and the coral’s beautiful.”
    Confused by her terminology, I assumed cat meant catamaran, not Morris or