JASON STARR - Panic Attack

Johnny followed Marissa into the kitchen, then into the dining room. She made some joke about how he should “try to ignore” her parents’ decorating. Meanwhile, the house looked like a palace compared to the shitholes where Johnny had lived. The kitchen had all stainless steel appliances, with one of those refrigerators with an ice dispenser on the door. Johnny had always dreamed of having one of those, being able to have a Coke with ice whenever he wanted. Like it could be the middle of the night, whenever, and he wanted ice, and it would be there. He wouldn’t have to deal with pouring water in trays, having to bend the tray to get the cubes out, and all that bullshit. The ice would just be there all the time, waiting for him. Yeah, he would’ve killed to grow up in a place like this and have half of what Marissa had. Didn’t she know how lucky she was?

Well, it didn’t matter because she was going to be dead soon anyway. After dinner Johnny planned to go up to her room with her and fuck her and then kill her. Then he was going to kill her parents- maybe torture them with the switchblade a little first just for the hell of it- and then rob the house and go on with his life.

As she went on, saying in that bored tone, “And this is the living room…,” Johnny was looking around for things to steal. Those vases looked like they had to be worth something, and he had to remember to find that silverware Carlos had mentioned, and of course the diamond ring. It was too bad Johnny could only take things he could carry. Jesus, check out the leather couch and matching love seat and armchair. Johnny felt like he was in one of those showrooms at Macy’s or Bloomingdale’s. Sometimes he’d go in there to hang out for a while, just to imagine how rich people lived. He’d sit in one of those twothousand- dollar massage chairs, wondering what it would be like to come back every day and get a nice massage, then go into his Jacuzzi. He bet the Blooms had an amazing bathroom upstairs, all marble, with a Jacuzzi or at least a big, roomy bathtub.

When they got back to the foyer, Adam Bloom was coming down the stairs. He looked even more stuck- up and into himself than the last time Johnny had seen him. Check him out in those jeans and a sport jacket, the black button shirt underneath, loose, not tucked in, to try to hide his gut. Johnny had a flashback to the night of the robbery on that same staircase, Bloom screaming, Get the fuck out of here!

“Hello,” Adam said, smiling widely when he reached the bottom of the stairs. “You must be Xan.”

He sounded all uppity, like he thought he was so much better than the rest of the world just because he lived in this big house in Forest Hills and had Dr. in front of his name. Did he think those letters made him better than everybody else? Did he think they protected him?

Yeah, probably.

Johnny saw Marissa roll her eyes a little; then she said, “Xan, this is my dad.”

“Adam Bloom.” He held out his hand for Johnny to shake.

Johnny squeezed Adam’s hand firmly- feeling sick, but not showing it- then said, “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

Sir. Man, Johnny was ontonight.

“You too,” Adam said. “You too.” Was he going to let go of his hand already? Finally he did and added, “I’ve heard a lot of great things about you.”

Johnny knew this was total BS. Marissa definitely didn’t seem like she had the type of relationship with her father where she went and told him everything that was happening in her life. She’d probably barely mentioned him to her father.

Remembering how Marissa had bad- mouthed Adam yesterday, basically calling him a cold- blooded killer, Johnny said, “Yeah, and I’ve heard a lot of great things about you too.”

Then Johnny looked up and saw this extremely hot older woman coming down the stairs. He knew this had to be Marissa’s mother- she kind of looked like Marissa, same skinny body type- but he was surprised because he didn’t expect her mom to be so goddamn sexy. She was in a black top with tight jeans, showing off her shape, and there was a lot to show off. She must’ve been in her late forties, but she had nice toned arms, great legs, high tits. Well, at least they looked high with all the pushing up that was going on. Johnny had always had a thing for older women, and he thought Mrs. Bloom was much hotter than Marissa.

She continued downstairs, and Johnny watched her the whole way. Then Marissa said, “Xan, this is my mom. Mom, Xan.”

He could tell that Mrs. Bloom was into him in a big way. If he was in a bar, looking for a pickup, she would’ve been the first woman he’d zero in on. The attraction was there, yeah, but there was more to it than that. A lot of women were attracted to Johnny- hell, just about every woman on the planet had the hots for him- but when they really wanted him, he picked up on a vibe of desperation, of longing. He could always spot an unhappy woman, a woman who had something missing in her life and was waiting for some guy to come along to give it to her. Mrs. Bloom definitely had that look.

“Wow, Marissa,” Johnny said, “you didn’t tell me your mother was gorgeous.”

This was the perfect opening because it made Mrs. Bloom blush bright pink, and Johnny could tell that Adam took this as a compliment, too.

“I like him already,” Mrs. Bloom said, totally flattered.

“It’s a real plea sure to meet you, Mrs. Bloom.” Johnny held her hand gently. He noticed she was wearing a wedding band but no engagement ring. The ring was probably upstairs in her bedroom, like Carlos had said.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, smiling, looking into his eyes. “You can call me Dana.”

Oh, yeah, she was definitely into him, there was no doubt about it. Maybe he’d bang her later just for the hell of it- tie Adam up, make him watch.

“Come on,” Adam said to Johnny. “I’ll get you a drink.”

Johnny let Adam walk ahead of him toward the living room. Marissa looked annoyed, but Johnny smiled at her and her mother- his two women- then followed Adam.

Adam asked, “So what I can get you? A vodka and orange juice? A glass of wine?”

“Oh, I’m not a big drinker,” Johnny said.

“Really?” He sounded impressed.

“Yeah,” Johnny said, “but I guess, since this is a special occasion, a glass of wine would be okay.”

Adam poured two glasses of wine- some cheap merlot, still had the $12.99 sticker on the bottle- then raised his glass and said, “Za vas.”

They drank, and then Adam said, “So I understand you’re from Rus sia.”

“Well, not from Rus sia. My father’s father was Rus sian.”

“Our family’s originally from Rus sia,” Adam said. “Well, Belarus actually- Minsk.”

“Moscow,” Johnny said, smiling.

“Terrific, that’s terrific,” Adam said. “And the rest of your family?”

“French and German on my mother’s side, Italian and Irish on my father’s side. I even have a little American Indian on my dad’s side.” Johnny hadn’t prepared any of this; he was just winging it.

“Wow, so you have a real multicultural family,” Adam said. “You must’ve had an interesting childhood.” Suddenly he sounded like a shrink.

“I did,” Johnny said, “and I was a very happy kid, too.” Hey, he might as well go all the way with the bullshit.

“That’s good,” Adam said. “Unusual nowadays.”

He laughed in an uppity way, reminding Johnny of somebody, but who?

“Where’s your family live now?” Adam asked.

“California.”

“Whereabouts?”

“San Diego.”

“And I understand you’re an… artist.”

Artist, like it disgusted him to say it. Might as well have been saying “bum” or “faggot.”

“That’s right,” Johnny said proudly.