He tickled Mae under the chin. She was wholly unimpressed and looked at him stonily.
He pushed the cart while I walked alongside, checking my shopping list and stealing glances at him whenever I thought he wouldn't see me. We'd picked up milk and baby food before he started talking.
«I had to find you, Cullen. Have you ever had that feeling about a person? They make you crazy? Who _are_ you?»
«Helen of Troy. Weber, what are you talking about?»
«I'm talking about being fucking _haunted_ by you. I don't usually get hit by women, and I never get hit and then want to see them again, that's for sure.»
«Weber, I'm married. I have the beautiful Mae, as you can see with your own eyes, and I just ain't interested. Besides, you're famous and have the reputation for being very mysterious. What woman wouldn't be fascinated by that? That's the most romantic combination there is.»
«_You_ don't want it. I can't be too romantic if you're giving me the brush-off in a supermarket.» He looked around. «In between the nacho chips and the onion dip. Hey, I forgot to ask, where did you learn karate? You know, when you bopped me like that? My chest hurt for an hour afterward.»
«Hey, man, you're Weber Gregston, right?» A punk with fingernail clippers for earrings grabbed Weber by the arm. I was intrigued to see how he would handle it. On second thought, I got scared when the thought crossed my mind that Weber might just punch the kid on the chin.
I was wrong. He stuck out his hand to shake. «Yes, I am. Hi! How are you?»
«Fuck you, man. I think your new movie's the shits. Ha! I bet none of those asshole critics ever told you _that_!»
Weber's face was impossible to read and I realized my body had tensed up.
«Well, okay, you hate them. I'm sorry about that. We'll be seeing you.»
«And this is your little wife? Shit, Bigshot Weber Gregston in a market! Where are the Cocoa-Pops, Mr. Director? You gonna do a close-up of her by the TV dinners?»
I assumed Weber was going to heave him into the frozen foods. Instead, he started making crazy faces at the boy. His mouth went up and down and his tongue came out. Then he rubbed his forehead back and forth and turned it bright red. It was something to see.
The punk didn't know what to do. He'd expected some kind of «Gunfight at the Market» but instead got Weber Gregston going crazy on him.
To make things worse (and funnier), Weber started bumping him with his chest and saving the names of cities, still making those faces the whole time.
«Detroit! Louisville!» Bump.
«What's your problem, Gregston?»
«Phoenix. Boise.» Bump. Bump.
The punk looked at me, angry and defenseless.
«What's with him?»
«Houston!» Bump. «Shreveport!» Bump.
«You fuckin' nut! You can't direct and now you're nuts!» He stepped back and hit a potato chip display; then he picked up a bag as if he was going to throw it but decided to disappear instead.
«Creep! Wacko!» He walked fast down the aisle, checking us over his shoulder all the while.
When he was gone, Weber shook his head and looked down at Mae. His performance had caught her fancy and he had her full attention. He smiled and wriggled his tongue at her and she cooed.
«Where was I?»
«Does that happen to you a lot?»
«Right after a film comes out sometimes. They put my picture in the paper. . . .» He shrugged. «Cullen, what am I going to do about you? Huh?»
I stopped and looked at him square-on. «If I'm so enticing, how come you were so mean to me the other day?»
«Because I'm a pig and sometimes people scare me. I wanted you and thought you were different from the way you are. It's part of the stupid game. Who knows? Cullen, look, I don't remember people's faces. But ever since we met, all I've done is walk around with yours in my head. How long were we together, half an hour? And you want to hear the weirdest part? As soon as you knocked me down, that's when I started wanting you. When you first came in the room I just thought, here's a good-looking woman; let's see if she's interested. But after you _hit_ me, I couldn't get you out of my mind. That's the absolute truth!»
We walked on in silence and I found the rest of my groceries. At the check-out counter, he tried to pay for them but I wouldn't let him.
When we were outside, we stood for too long looking carefully at each other. That's Weber Gregston, famous movie director, Cullen. And he wants you. What do you think of _that_!
«Did you really call up all the Jameses in the phone book?»
«Every one – you were the seventeenth. Check it out in the book. It took me three days to get the courage to even pick up the phone.»
Another silence and then I reached over and straightened his collar.
«I'm completely honored, Weber, but we can't. I like who I'm with and I like who I am. Finally. You know what I mean?» He smiled and nodded and looked at his shoe. «It took too long to get here and I don't want to chance throwing it a way. There's a big part of me that would _love_ to have an affair with you, but I'm just not going to do it.»
«There's not even a chance? We could go to the movies or something.»
He didn't even know what he was saying anymore, and that touched me more deeply than anything he had said so far. The irony of his last sentence almost went by unnoticed as a result. Then he grinned and touched my arm. «I hear the new Weber Gregston film is a real piece of shit. You heard what the guy in there said. You wanna go?»
The moment had passed and we were on comfortably safe ground again.
«Naah, I already saw it eleven times.» I looked at his chest. «That's a beautiful jacket, you know. Don't ruin it by sticking your hands in the pockets like that.» I looked at him and he smiled for a second, than let it fall away. «Weber, there's no chance. I am glad you came shopping with us. Mae too; she hasn't giggled like that in a week. You make funnier faces than I do.»
He kissed his fingertips and touched them to my forehead. «I'll see you. Jesus, I'd better stop thinking about you.»
I watched him walk away, then I took a deep breath and rolled my eyes. Queen for a Day.
«Package for James.»
I undid all of the locks and opened the door for the United Parcel Service man. The box was brown and large and for me. No return address and no sign of what store it came from. A surprise from Danny or my parents?
When I pulled the tissue paper aside and saw what it was, I groaned and sat back on my haunches. A Gianni Versace leather jacket exactly like Weber's. The stuff that dreams are made of. Brand-new and smelling – even there in the box – as heavenly as only a new piece of beautiful clothing can smell.
«Oh, Weber. Oh boy!»
The middle of the afternoon and it was snowing again. I wondered if he was somewhere in the city in this snow, or else under a Florida orange tree very far away.
The jacket was a size too large, but I liked that. It reminded me of wearing my boyfriend's letter sweater back in high school. I walked around the room for some time with my hands in my new pockets, feeling pretty damned special and glamorous. I showed Mae, but she was more interested in her mobile. All this was followed by a long posing session in front of the bathroom mirror.
I discovered the envelope in the inside front pocket. Knowing who it was from and wondering what it would say, I opened it but then only held it in my hand before daring to take out the letter and read what was written there.
«First there's Pepsi and Mr. Tracy and now Weber Gregston. My God!»
The handwriting was unexpectedly small and «straight-A student» careful. I smiled and touched my lips when I saw it was a poem.
_NIGHT MEDALLION_ by Daniel Mark Epstein