Elizabeth McCracken - Niagara Falls All Over Again

Rocky threw a party for us the next week. I couldn’t refuse, and I couldn’t, of course, suggest that he not invite his wife and her best friend. Clearly Penny hadn’t told Rocky about Our Secret (as I, a newly married man, decorously thought of it); he was being entirely too sentimental about me. Would I be able to get Penny alone and explain things? With a few insinuations, maybe I could get her to jump to a flattering conclusion: I married Jessie because I could not marry her.

At the party Jessica was whisked away immediately by Tansy. Penny spotted me outside the house and started to bound up. (Well, she didn’t spot me; Rocky pointed.) Did the sight of me always make her so frolicsome? Probably she was thinking the same thing, because she slowed down and walked the rest of the way.

“Mike!” she said. “Congratulations! I could hardly believe it when Rocky told me! I said, Mike? Mike Sharp ? Married? Good grief, then there’s hope for anyone! I said, Rocky, if Mike can get married, then there’s hope for us too! Where is she? That’s her? She’s beautiful . And from Des Moines? Beautiful and from Des Moines? Not that it surprises me, it’s just that I’ve never been to Des Moines. We’ll go sometime. Dancer? She’s a dancer, right? Well, you’ll put her in your movies. Of course you will, but don’t you dare put her in before you put me in. I’ve been twisting Rock’s arm for four years now, I won’t give up that easy. Maybe we can do a scene together, me and your wife. Your wife . You’re married! Do I have a surprise for you .” And then she slapped me on the seat of my pants, hard, kissed me on the nose, and left.

So I stood for a moment, feeling both the slap and the kiss and hoping that one of them was the surprise. She thought Jessie was beautiful, huh? Penny couldn’t fool me: she couldn’t possibly have seen my beauteous wife from that distance. Red Shaw’s band was there, and they struck up some dance music.

When I recall nearly any story from those first weeks with Jessica, I decide of every single one, That’s when I knew I was in love with her, even though I don’t remember any surrounding doubt. Here’s another one: that night, we danced. We’d only ever danced during my lessons, but now we jitterbugged. Then double time. Then quadruple. I couldn’t tell whose idea it was to speed up, mine or hers or the band’s, but I realized that everyone else had stopped dancing and had cleared space for us. I’ve always wanted to be that guy, I thought. Maybe they were just doing it because it was our party, but I didn’t care. I spun her from me and then back. I missed her when a step took her farther away, and I tried to prevent sweat from dripping off my nose and onto her face when she was near. We were both laughing, even though laughing was an effort. I could feel my back suddenly soppy wet. Surely the song was nearly over. It wasn’t. I’d never danced this hard in my life, and I couldn’t tell whether I was giddy because I danced or vice versa. People around us clapped, which would have given us permission to stop, but I couldn’t imagine doing that until the end of the song, which in my mind had become our wedding itself, and would I walk out on that? My lungs hurt. My heart felt slightly bruised.

Finally. End of song (were those sons of bitches putting on all those extra flourishes to kill me?). Applause. Lovely. I collapsed onto a nearby chair. For a second Jessica stood, fanning the backs of her legs with her skirt. Then she sat down primly on my knees. Despite myself, I took her by the waist and slid her closer to me, both of us still panting. When she leaned I could feel that her shirt was soaked through, too.

She arched her back away from me for a minute, and then settled the backs of her shoulders onto the front of mine. She said, “I’m afraid I’m sticking to you.”

I said, “Please.”

Later that night Rocky danced with both Penny and Jessica, twirled one from each wrist. How could a guy who danced that well have any trouble with woman at all? I didn’t like having Penny and Jessica that close together, but at least they weren’t talking.

Penny’s secret turned out to be completely endearing, if odd. I’d shown Rocky the words to “My Darling Lives in Des Moines,” asking for advice, and his photographic memory had snapped a picture, and his friend Red Shaw had set the lyrics to music — he must have had a spare tune lying around, he managed it so fast. Penny was going to sing with the band. I didn’t recognize it till she began the verse. There was betrayal in her voice, but there was always betrayal in Penny’s voice:

Indianola, Osceola,

Cedar Rapids, Cedar Falls,

But the city I love most

Is the city that she calls

Home—

(Don’t need a map at all)

Home—

(To the State Capitol)

Home—

My darling lives in Des Moines.

When it was done, and Jessica kissed me, and we went to thank Penny, she simply shook our hands. “I’m taking this so well,” she said to me, and then, to Jessica, “I might as well admit it, I’ve always had a crush on your husband.”

“He’s pretty adorable,” Jessie said. Then she turned to me, and yawned in an informational way. “It’s midnight,” she said. “I think I’ll go home.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll get the car.”

“No,” she answered. She touched my cheek. “You’re having a good time. I want to go, you want to stay, nothing wrong with that. Somebody will drive you. Wake me when you get back.”

I couldn’t decide if I was delighted by our independence from each other, or crushed. But I’d hardly seen Rocky at the party, so I kissed her and stayed. I ended up in the basement bar, Sukey between me and Rock.

“So I hear,” Sukey said, “that you got yourself a housewife.”

“Ain’t it great?” Rocky asked.

I didn’t know the etiquette. I tried, “She’s not—”

“A nice Jewish girl, like he always wanted,” said Rocky, though I’d never said that. But he was right, I reflected: that was what I always wanted. “From his hometown,” said Rocky.

“A city girl,” I corrected. “Next town over.”

“Forgive me,” said Rocky. “She’s from Des Moines. He’s from West Des Moines.”

“And who could blame him?” said Sukey. “Lights of Des Moines are liable to dazzle a boy.”

“Indeed,” said Rocky.

“It’s what they all want.” Sukey stared into her drink. I worried that I was about to hear the answer to And who could blame him? “They all pretend that they’re big sophisticated men, but then they see a simple little girl and they turn into simple little boys.”

“Now, wait a minute,” I said.

“It’s true.” The bartender had gone home, and Sukey knelt on her barstool and grabbed a bottle and poured herself another drink. Whatever she’d snagged colored what was left in her glass green. “They act like big men, but in the end they just want to play house.”

“Who’s them?” asked Rocky.

“All of y’all,” said Sukey, suddenly southern with drink. “All of you boys. You want housewives. You’re not real men.”

“I’m married to Penny,” he said. “You don’t think she’s—”

“Well, Jesus Christ,” said Sukey. “ I’ve been to bed with Penny. How much of a man am I?”

There was a silence you could have wrapped in a bedsheet then. Finally, Rocky scratched the back of his head and said, hopefully, “By go to bed, you mean—”

“You know what I mean, funnyman,” Sukey said.

Rocky shook his head.