He brought my hand to his erection. “I don’t doubt you, but I know men.”

My cell went off again.

“Let itring,” Koby snapped.

“It might be important.”

Koby plopped down onto his back, smoldering eyes on the ceiling, and said nothing. This time, it was Rina.

“I just wanted to know when you’re going to pick up the old Volvo.”

“Oh… hold on.” I turned to my bedmate. “When do you want to pick up the Volvo?”

He exhaled loudly. “What time is it?”

“Around nine.”

“I have to be in at three. Twelve, twelve-thirty?”

“How about twelve-thirty?” I asked Rina.

“That’s fine. I’ll see you then.”

I hung up.

“Turn it off,” Koby said. “If it goes again, I will break it.”

I turned it off.

He leaned over and kissed me.

Within moments, there was another annoying jingle-Für Eliseand it was his phone.

“Oh my God!” he snarled.

“You can answer it,” I told him. “Iwon’t get cranky.”

He glared at me and picked up his phone. “Yes?… Mikal!… Shit!” He sat up. “Sorry, mon, I forgot to call. I can’t come down; my car’s wrecked… No, no, I’m fine. Some dude ran a light… No, it’s totaled, utterly gone. My woman has another set of wheels… Her old man does. Look, just run without me today. I see you on Thursday, mon… When? Saturday?… Maybe. I’ll talk to the woman. Okay. Bye.”

I stared at him. “When did you become Jamaican?”

“What?”

“Never mind. Talk to me about what?”

“A party Saturday night. Do you want to go?”

“Do you?”

“If you want.” He eyed me hungrily. “I think I’d rather be alone with you.” He put his phone on his nightstand. No sooner did he lay it down than it rang again. He started to laugh and so did I.

“Go ahead,” I told him.

“Yes?” His voice was hard. “What time?… I can’t… I can’t… You’re not hearing me, Marnie, I can’t. I have no car. I have to pick one up… I’m picking it up at twelve-thirty, so one-thirty at the earliest. Why not call Lisa?… When?… How long?… So call up Pat and insist that she come in or you shall report her. You have to control the people on your shift, Marnie. I keep telling you this. She’s missed more days than all of us together… I know she’s a single mother, but I have a life, too. I am sick of covering for her… No, I am not yelling, I am frustrated!”

He rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I know it’s not your fault, but certainly it is not my fault. Look, I try to make it by two. That is the best I can do… It’s okay… I know… I know you do… No problem, Marnie… Yes, I will… I must go.” He clicked the phone off. “Marnie says hello.” He lobbed the cell across the room. It didn’t break, but the battery fell out.

He stared at me with appetite. “Shall we try once more?”

“Are you sure you want to attempt this?” I asked him.

“If we don’t, I shall truly be foul.”

“I don’t think I want to see that.”

“It would not be good.”

An hour later, he had done a one-eighty: a completely different man-relaxed and smiling and joking. After we showered, he insisted on preparing us breakfast. He turned on his stereo, zydeco music pumping out of the speakers. Nifty accordion playing. I heard him singing along with the vocals.

By the time I had dressed and walked into his kitchen, he was almost done cooking.

“Coffee’s ready.”

“You work fast.”

He kissed me as he poured eggs into a pan sizzling with chopped peppers, tomatoes, and onions. “I set up outside on the patio. It is a beautiful day.”

“That looks good.”

“Shakshuka.”

“Ethiopian?”

“Israeli. Moroccan, I think. You are depleted. You need protein. We both do.”

“I thought it was good to eat carbs when you’re depleted.”

“No, carbs are for immediate rise in blood sugar. Protein is digested slowly. It does not give you the rush, but you don’t crash, either. Take the paper and go outside.”

Five minutes later, he brought out food, drink, and my cell phone. He kissed my lips, then sat down. “Ah… this is nice.” He leaned back in the chair, hands behind his neck. “It is good to breathe.”

I poured a refill of coffee. “Very nice.” I started in on my plate of eggs. “Delicious. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

It wasn’t the first thing he had made for me. He was a good cook-simple dishes but with lots of spice. He favored red chili flakes. My mouth was burning after a few forkfuls. I washed it down with juice, then sipped coffee. I regarded his face. “Sex is really important to you.”

He eyed me behind a coffee cup. “Yes… I hope it’s important to you, too.”

“Of course. It just doesn’t seem to… alter my disposition as much.”

“I am very moody. I told you that.”

“Yes, you did.”

“We are reversed, Cynthia. I work with women; you work with men. It is early in the relationship, so I am not so secure. And with recent circumstances, we’ve been dealing with a lot.”

“I’ve dragged you into a lot of muck. Sorry.”

“If you come with muck, I will take the muck.” He took my hand and kissed it. “When it’s my turn to drag you into muck, then you will remember this.”

“Fair enough.” I bit into a piece of rye toast and stared at the rosebushes. “Well, since sex seems to be a very big factor here, for both of us, I guess I could go on the pill. Make it a little more spontaneous.”

His smile was wide. “That would be very nice.”

“You don’t like condoms.”

“No man does. But it’s your body.” He slathered butter onto the bread. “I do what you want.”

“I have no problem with the pill, but if we stop using condoms, you’ve got to be absolutely monogamous.”

“I know.”

“Like one hundred percent. I can’t be worrying about… things.”

“Disease, you mean. I understand, my love. I am thirty-two, not sixteen.”

“I couldn’t even imagine you at sixteen.”

“It never slept.”

I smiled. “So it’s not a problem for you?”

His laughter was musical. “I ammadfor you, Cynthia. I don’t eventhinkabout being with another woman. Is it a problem foryou?”

“Being with another woman?” I shook my head. “Not at all.”

He tossed me a disgusted look.

“No, it’s not a problem.” I smiled. “I’m fine with it.”

“Good. So go see your doctor and give me the prescription. I can probably pick up some free samples for you from one of the drug companies.”

“At achildren’shospital.”

“We treat teenagers.”

“Ah.” I finished my eggs. “So how easy is it to get drugs?”

He looked at me. “Pardon?”

“Like hard drugs. How easy would it be to filch them?”

“With the classified narcotics, everything is kept under lock and we all know who has the keys. It is not simple. I don’t do drugs, I’ve never done drugs, but those at the hospital who do usually suck nitrous oxide because it is very accessible and usually wears off immediately. It is stupid. Every year we have at least one of our own staff unconscious because of improper mix of oxygen and nitrogen. Why do you ask about drugs?”

“Cop’s curiosity. You can get the pill so easily. I just wondered.”

“I cannot easily get narcotics from lockup, but if I was desperate enough, I would know ways. Almost anything else-antibiotics; cold medicines; antihistamines; analgesics, both OTC and some low-dose prescription pain medications like Percocet; even Percodan or Vicodin, which have codeine in them. The hospital has closets filled with samples from the drug companies. It’s a perk of the job… like free coffee for you.”

“I don’t get free coffee.”

“Well, here you do.” He picked up part of the paper and handed it to me. “So let’s enjoy our time together before reality intrudes.”

I scanned the front page of the Arts and Entertainment section-vintage ’50s musicals on stage, movie remakes, TV reunion specials. Didn’t anyone have an original thought anymore? I looked at Koby’s face, his eyes focused on the morning news, his brow furrowed with tension as he read the articles about our troops overseas. He was much more familiar with that region than average Joe American. I wondered how much he identified with our soldiers.