Dr. Cone caught my eye and he said, “Mary Jane, are you okay with everything that’s come out here tonight? Do you have any questions about any of this?”
“Um . . .” I did, but I wasn’t sure I should ask.
Dr. Cone nodded at me, and then he stared at Jimmy and Sheba until they stopped kissing and looked at me too.
“So. Uh. Does Beanie Jones have an open marriage too?” Was the world full of people whose lives were entirely different than what I had imagined?
“Nah.” Jimmy shook his head.
“It’s just ’cause it’s Jimmy.” Mrs. Cone appeared to be talking to the sand. “Women will do anything for the chance to make love to Jimmy.”
“Bonnie!” Sheba said. “What the fuck? Are you in love with my husband?!”
Mrs. Cone pulled up her head and stared at Sheba. “What did you say?” It seemed like she was stalling for time.
“Are you in love with my husband?” Sheba said each word precisely, like she had to put air around the syllables and give them space.
“Well, who isn’t, Sheba?” Mrs. Cone looked around vaguely, somehow not making eye contact with any of us, and then said, “I mean, I’m not saying I’d fool around with him. But I want your life. I want to spend a month at Cap-Eden-Roc in southern France! I want to go to Muscle Shoals and make a record and drink whiskey in the studio until six in the morning! I want to hang out with Lowell George and Linda Ronstadt and Graham Nash! I want to spend ten thousand dollars on clothes and carry an alligator handbag picked up at the Marché aux Puces in Paris and eat in all the best restaurants . . . and I want—I want—”
“What the fuck do you want, Bonnie?” Sheba’s voice had an sharp, impatient edge.
Mrs. Cone said, “I want to be in a marriage where we want to kiss each other like you two just did. I want to be with someone who’s so passionate he’s bordering on insane. I want to be with someone who will call me baby and cry for me and look at me the way Jimmy looks at you. I don’t want to be a doctor’s wife living in Baltimore. I . . . I just want more than this.” Mrs. Cone dropped her head and started crying.
None of us spoke. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Dr. Cone. Finally he said, “Are you saying you don’t want to be married to me?”
“I think I drank too much.” Mrs. Cone stood, turned, and then started vomiting in the sand. Dr. Cone rushed to her. He held her thick red hair back with one hand and put his other hand on her shoulder so she didn’t nose-dive as she barfed.
Sheba took my hand and pulled me to standing. Jimmy stood too and the three of us quietly walked away.
I followed Jimmy and Sheba into the kitchen. Jimmy turned on the tap, leaned over it, and took a few dog laps. Sheba sat at the table. She looked at me and patted the chair beside hers.
“Do we have any Zonkers?” Jimmy asked.
“Yeah, in the cupboard,” I said. “I’ll get them.”
“I got ’em.” Jimmy opened the cupboard, and I sat on the chair beside Sheba.
Jimmy brought the Zonkers to the table and sat across from me and Sheba. After he took a handful from the box, he passed it to me. I took a huge handful, the size of a throwing snowball. Sheba reached into the box and did the same.
“Shit.” Jimmy reached for the box. He took another handful.
“I know.” Sheba took the box back from him. She dumped a pile of Zonkers out on the table.
“I mean what the fuck?” Jimmy grabbed the box again.
“What the fuck is right. Poor Richard.”
“Do you think Mrs. Cone is going to leave Dr. Cone?” I took the box from Jimmy and poured out more Zonkers into Sheba’s pile.
“Who knows, man?” Jimmy reached across the table and pulled the box closer to him. “But even if they don’t break up, he’s gonna be hurtin’ over that little one-act show.”
“Can’t un-ring that bell.” Sheba picked up a nutty chunk from the pile and popped it in her mouth.
“Can’t put that toothpaste back in the tube.” Jimmy shook the box, letting the last crumbled bits gather in the corner so he could pull them all out in one handful.
“Where do you want to go to college?” Sheba asked me, as if we’d been talking about school and not the Cones’ imploding marriage.
“I’ve been trying to get my parents to take me to New York City, but they don’t like New York. So I kinda thought the only way I’d ever see it was if I went to college there.”