Page 299 - What They Did to the Kid

What They Did to the Kid 287

privacy. “A millionaire who’ll give me two hundred a month and
be gone all the time. No sex allowed. That’s the perfect husband.”
“‘Can’t Buy Me Love’ ain’t your song. Put my pineapple on top
of my cottage cheese.”
“Don’t be funny. I’m miserable enough.”
“You know, if I’d met you another time another place, we could
have had a good laugh.”
“Not me, dolly. I’m nothing but a miserable b-i...do you want
me to spell it?”
“No.”
“Then quit trying to hear my Confession. You left the seminary.
God! There’s hot dogs for supper and Jewish rye I bought. Why don’t
you get a girl—the poor thing—but get a girl for godsake. Call Miss
Ticket Booth.” She stared at me. “Get yourself loved...”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. She loves me, yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“...and get loved in return.”
“Like you and Joe? That’s the secret?”
“That’s the ticket.”
“Is that theology?”
“Ain’t it the movies?”
She wiped her hands clean on her apron.
“Do you have any sauerkraut, Louisa?”
“In this house? This ain’t Germany.”
“You can get it at the A&P.” I wanted to say for Chrissakes. I
sounded like Joe. She had sucked me into her movie.
“I told you anything you want, pick it up. But you’re probably
not too hot at picking anything up.” She slung the salad into the
refrigerator. “You might as well never left the seminary. You live
exactly the same. Study and work. You never go anyplace. Not like
my boys.” She untied her apron. “I’m going to lie down. You can put
your own hot dog on. I understand boys,” she said. “I understood
mine and all their friends.” She took a can of beer from the refrigera-
tor. “But you!”
“Do you have another saucepan?” I said. “So what’s the matter
with me?”
“I don’t want to insult your mother again.”
“What’s that mean?”

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