Chapter 9 Water Sports
Carmen woke when she heard somebody moving around in the house, probably Shane or Mark in the kitchen, she thought. It was a week later, a week after she'd first made love to Jenny, and the third night that week she'd slept over in Jenny's bed. She opened her eyes and saw Jenny's face a few inches from her own. They were both lying on their sides facing each other, both naked, both only half covered by the bed's top sheet. She studied Jenny's face for a moment, until Jenny opened her eyes.
"Hey," Jenny said.
"Hey," Carmen said. "Were you asleep?"
"No. Just resting. What were you doing?"
"Looking at you."
"Oh? Why?"
"'Cause you're cute, sleeping."
Jenny blushed, leaned forward, gave Carmen a quick peck on the lips.
"It's Sunday morning," Jenny said.
"I know."
"We don't have to go anywhere."
"Nope."
"We can sleep late."
"Yep."
"We can have morning sex."
"Yep."
"Noon sex, lunchtime sex."
"Yep."
"Afternoon sex."
"Uh-huh. Afternoon delight. Skyrockets in flight."
"Evening sex."
"60 Minutes sex with Morley Safer and Andy Rooney."
"Speaking of old people, I forgot to ask you how your gig went last night."
"That's because the minute I got here you assaulted me sexually, and forced me to perform lewd and lascivious acts of a perverted, Sapphic nature."
"I was horny," Jenny said.
"No kidding? But thank you for asking about my gig. It went very well."
"You like doing those Oldies Night gigs, don't you."
"I do," Carmen said. "I like old people and senior citizens. And I like the music, very romantic. And the money's good, and the gigs are always over by ten o'clock, 'cause none of them can stay awake after that and I get to come home much earlier than usual, and spend the rest of the night tongue-fucking hot, sexy, horny Jewish girls from the Midwest. Also, I get to wear my hot booty shorts and turn on all the men, who flirt with me shamelessly, which I enjoy because they know and I know that absolutely nothing is gonna happen for real, unlike regular gigs where every guy who hits on me actually entertains the hope in his tiny little pea brain that perhaps he might succeed and get into my shorts and I'll suck his cock under the turntable console. Which of course ain't gonna happen. So, yeah, I kinda like playing with the old guys. They have fun and I have fun, nobody's feelings are hurt, and everybody goes home happy."
"Do any of the women ever hit on you?"
"No, not really. Once in a while I get a stare or an appraising look, and we make eye contact, and she knows that I know what she's thinking."
"So what do you do?"
"I just give her a nod or an enigmatic smile, like, yeah, once upon a time, maybe we'd have done it. You know, validating her gaydar. But usually if any woman hits on me, it's going to be one of the staff people, the nurses and so on. They're more my age. Some younger, even."
"And did you ever ...?"
Carmen tapped Jenny lightly on the nose. "Now, you don't want me to kiss and tell, do you?"
"God, yes!" Jenny said, and Carmen laughed.
"Well, what happens at Happy Valley Nursing Home stays at Happy Valley Nursing Home," Carmen said.
Jenny stuck out her lower lip for a moment, pretending to sulk, then asked, "What did you tell your mom about where you were spending the night last night?"
"I told her the truth, I always do," Carmen said. "I'm spending the night at a friend's house. Sometimes I say at a girlfriend's house. And she believes me, because I'm actually telling the God's honest truth. And that's as far as the conversation ever goes. She could grill me for twenty minutes, and every answer I'd give would be true. Who's the friend? Oh, Jenny, Jenny Schecter. She's this really cool writer I met, she's working on becoming a novelist. She's the friend of a friend. Remember I told you about my friend Shane, the hairdresser, like cousin Evi? Well, Jenny is Shane's housemate. Um. she's from Illinois or someplace like that. Brunette, short, five-foot nothing, smaller than me, even. Cute. Funny. A little moody, a little dark and mysterious. See? I could talk for an hour about you, and my mother would never once ask the key question, and I would never volunteer it."
"Doesn't she ever ask you about guys?"
"Oh, sure, she has, but not so much the last few years. First, I'm the baby of the family, and in her eyes there is no man who is good enough for me anyway. Second, the legend has grown up that I'm just really picky and discriminating, and looking for Mr. Right, and he just hasn't come along yet. And once in a while we'll be watching a movie or something, and I'll say something like, 'Wow, that Josh Hartnett is reallllly hot!' Which is actually what I really think and once I really did say it. Because he is. But it doesn't mean I want to sleep with him, I just think he's a hunk. But I can think somebody is hot, whether it's a man or a woman, and it doesn't mean I wanna fuck 'em. So, the result is, my mom thinks I have this crush on Josh Hartnett. You ever see him in that movie, the one about the girl who got murdered back right after World War Two?"
"No, I missed that one," Jenny said. "Who else was in it?"
"Aaron Eckhart, and Scarlett Johansson was the love interest," Carmen said.
"God, I'd