Page 21 of The Plus Ones
I do not expect any kind of response, but the moving dots appear immediately.
ROXY CARTER: You are not, and none of your business.
ME: We’ll be there in ten minutes.
ROXY CARTER: Who’s we?
ME: You’ll see.
ROXY CARTER: Do not come over.
ME: So you are at home.
ROXY CARTER: None of your business, and I am not going to Antigua with you.
I put the phone in my pocket and tug on Jackpot’s leash. “Let’s go, boy,” I say in my deepest, most authoritative voice. It works. He immediately follows, and I try not to show how surprised and grateful I am. I make a mental note to use the same tone with Roxy.
About ten minutes later, we’re in front of her building on Clinton. The last time I was standing here, I got shot down by her former roommate, but I am in no mood to take “no” for an answer today. I buzz “R. Carter” and fully expect to have to call her, but I’m greeted with static and a husky voice.
“What?”
“That how you always answer your intercom?”
“Yes.”
“Figures. Come down and talk to me for a minute.”
“No thanks.”
“Come on. I’ve got my dog with me. I don’t want him getting your apartment dirty.”
“Neither do I.” There’s a short pause. “You have a dog?”
“You know that.”
“I had no idea you had a dog. Why would I know that?”
“Will you please just come down? Unless you want to let us up. These are your options.”
“Or I could just not come down or let you up.”
“I will wait here until someone lets me in.”
“This building has ano dogpolicy.”
“Well, I have aquit fucking around and get down here nowpolicy.”
“I’m not going to Antigua with you.”
“Come down and let me calmly explain to you why you are.”
I get no response. No static. No buzz, no door clicking open.
She’s coming down. I know she is. She knows I’ll just keep bugging her if she doesn’t.
“She’s coming down,” I say to Jackpot. “Look cute.” He’s facing away from me, staring up the street. “Good boy.”
A minute later, a blonde in a long puffy black coat and winter boots comes to the door, and somehow, I forget to breathe.
