Jennifer Crusie - GETTING RID OF BRADLEY

“You named him Heisenberg,” Zack finished for her. “What part were you wrong about?”

“Heisenberg wasn’t uncertain,” Lucy said grimly.

“What?”

“Heisenberg was gone every morning for three days in a row. Bradley would tell me that he’d let him out and he’d just disappear, which I thought was strange because the backyard is fenced, but then Heisenberg is a small dog, so I thought maybe he’d found a hole. So I looked, but I couldn’t find one. And then I got up early one morning and glanced out the front window and saw Bradley putting Heisenberg in the car. So I went out on the front porch and asked him what he was doing.”

Lucy clenched her jaw, and Zack saw the old anger seep back into her eyes.

“I hate Bradley,” he said.

Lucy swallowed and went on. “He didn’t say anything, but while he was standing there, Heisenberg jumped out of the car and came trotting back into the house. Bradley just stood there, sort of annoyed. I wanted to kill him. I should have known right then that everything was over, but…”

“But?” Zack prompted.

“Well, we were married. That’s serious. You don’t go to court and say, ‘I want a divorce because my husband tried to lose my dog.’ And after all, he could have taken him to the pound, and then Heisenberg would have died.”

Zack shook his head, disgusted. “No, he wouldn’t have. If Heisenberg hadn’t come back one night, what would you have done?”

“Called the pound.” Lucy stared into the fire. “Bradley wasn’t so dumb.”

Her voice was lost, and Zack wanted to hit somebody. Preferably Bradley. “Yes, he was,” he said. “He lost you. That was extremely dumb.”

“Oh.” Lucy blinked. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Their eyes met for a moment, and then he looked away, searching for a diversion. Any diversion. No matter how lame. “Hey. Stop hogging the pretzels.”

She passed him the pretzels, and he tried to remember the part about not getting involved.

“What I need to know,” he said finally, dragging his mind back to the investigation, “is the kind of guy Bradley is. You seem really sure he’s not a criminal.”

Lucy picked up her cue. “It’s hard to believe. He has no imagination. He’s essentially a good man, but he’s boring. If he was a criminal, at least he’d be interesting.”

How boring? Zack wondered. Was he boring in bed?

“Actually,” Lucy went on, “we were both boring. We were the most boring couple in Riverbend.”

Zack gave in. “In bed, too?”

“I beg your pardon,” Lucy said.

“It’s a legitimate question,” Zack said, trying to convince himself. “After all, he may have seduced and shot a blonde.”

“No, he didn’t. I told you, the blonde seduced him, which was more than I was ever able to do.” Lug blushed, but plunged on anyway. “Bradley approached sex the same way he approached everything else. He did it correctly, and then he forgot about it.”

“Correctly?” Zack almost spilled his beer. “There’s a correct way to have sex? Where am I when these rules get passed out?”

Lucy shrugged. “All right, efficiently then. I didn’t like it. I mean, he was doing all the right things, but…”

“He was all the wrong guy,” Zack finished for her, his voice thick with disgust. “You need a keeper. How could you have married this creep?”

Lucy glared at him. “Oh, let’s talk about some of your ex-girlfriends. I bet there’s a million stories in your Naked City.”

Zack glared back. “Didn’t you notice the sex was lousy before you got married?” He took a swig of beer to hide his annoyance.

“We didn’t have sex before we got married. Bradley respected me.”

Zack choked on his beer.

“No, he did.” Lucy frowned. “That’s what I can’t figure out. I mean, Bradley wasn’t exciting, but I was sure he respected me. I’d still swear that he loved me. Not passionately, of course, but…well…firmly. He sort of took me for granted, but he always wanted me around. He was very upset when I moved upstairs to the attic after he tried to kidnap Heisenberg.”

“I bet he was.” Zack stopped, putting himself in Bradley’s place, a Bradley used to having Lucy warm and loving in his bed and then suddenly losing her. “I bet he was upset. Why didn’t he move upstairs, too? I’d have been up those stairs like a shot.”

There was a short silence, and then Lucy said, “Bradley wasn’t you.”

“Guess not.” Zack shifted uncomfortably. “Want some more pretzels?”

A FEW MINUTES LATER, Zack took the dogs out for their last ran, made sure the doors were all locked, and then stopped by the fire to say good-night.

“I’m sorry we had to talk about Bradley,” he told Lucy, his face all shadows, backlit by the fire as he stared down at her on the love seat. “I know it upsets you.”

“It doesn’t upset me. Thinking somebody was trying to kill me upset me. Talking about Bradley hardly qualifies.”

“Good.” Zack hesitated.

Lucy waited, holding her breath, and then he said, “Good night,” and went upstairs.

“Good night,” she said and turned her eyes back to the fire.

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Zack stretched out in Lucy’s old bed in the attic and stared out the little diamond-paned windows.

He could just go down there and say, “So, Lucy…”

So Lucy what?

So Lucy, you want to take off your clothes and have incorrect sex with me?

Very smooth, he jeered at himself. Just forget it. There is nothing you can say to her that will interest her. Go to sleep.

But when he closed his eyes, he could see her. And just as he’d feared earlier, he wasn’t having any trouble at all thinking about her naked.

And she didn’t look anything like Queen Elizabeth.

“Oh, hell.” He sat up in bed. Think about something else. Something depressing.

Fast.

Okay. The Orioles. Game seven of the ‘79 World Series.

The game appeared before him in vivid, depressing detail.

And there on third base was Lucy. Naked.

“Oh, hell,” he said, and fell back against the pillows.

HER FACE IN THE bathroom mirror was pale under her mass of green curls. Wrapped in her terry-cloth robe, Lucy stared at her hair in despair, and then suddenly leaned to look closer.

Her hair wasn’t just plain green anymore. Part of it seemed lighter, so that her hair looked mottled in places. And part of it was a lot shorter, too. She ran her fingers through her hair and some of it broke off when she tugged.

She looked a lot like Einstein had after he’d rolled in chewing gum and she’d had to cut it out of his fur.

Except he hadn’t been several shades of green.

Lucy leaned her head against the bathroom mirror. This was the absolute nadir. She would never again look this bad as long as she lived.

So, of course, tonight Zack was upstairs inspiring in her the most toe-curling fantasies of her entire life. Not that it mattered. Because she wasn’t ever going to do anything about it anyway.

Was she?

Lucy stared at herself, lost for a moment.

Of course, she wasn’t. Why was she thinking about it?

Because she wanted him so much she’d die if she didn’t have him. She felt hot just thinking about him, the heat starting low and spreading as she thought about his hands, and his mouth, and his body rolling hard against hers, and the heat in his blue, blue eyes, and his mind-numbing, heart-stopping grin.

No.

She turned out the light and left the bathroom, depressed beyond reason. By the time she climbed into bed, she was almost in tears.

It was impossible. If she went up there to Zack right now, and crawled into bed with him like Tina had said, he’d look at her and say, “No.” He’d be sweet about it, but he’d still say, “No.”