Mary Jane by Jessica Blau (debian ebook reader TXT) 📗

I wanted to know what it was like to pose for Playboy. If I could summon the nerve, I’d ask Sheba later. And maybe I’d also asked her why Jimmy would look at his back or smellhis fingers to see if he’d made love to someone.

On the fifth day at the beach, Jimmy turned his pockets inside out and presented his behind to Dr. Cone, who looked up from his book and waved him away. Jimmy then presented his behind to Mrs. Cone, who giggled and gave a little slap on each of his back pockets. He went to Sheba next. Sheba was wearing a bikini that looked small enough to fit Izzy. Her skin was smooth and creamy, like she’d been sanded down.

“I need to do a thorough exam.” Sheba kneeled at Jimmy’s back and felt his pockets. Then she leaned in and bit him. Jimmyyowled and Izzy laughed so hard, her curls shook.

“Your turn.” Jimmy presented his bottom to Izzy. Izzy slapped his pockets over and over again like she was playing the bongos.

“Mary Jane has to check too!” Izzy stood and pushed Jimmy toward me.

I slapped his pockets once each. He had swum in his jean shorts and they were damp and sandy. “All clear!”

“Then I’m off!” Jimmy lifted his leg, cartoon-style, like he was winding up to run. And then he did. Run. Away from us anddown the beach wearing only those damp, gritty shorts and the leather rope with feathers around his neck.

“What’s for dinner tonight?” Mrs. Cone reached out and squeezed Izzy’s fleshy leg. Izzy was wearing a red polka-dot one-pieceand looked like a cute little ladybug.

“Pizza!” Izzy said.

Mrs. Cone looked over at me. “You’re making pizza?”

“No, Dr. Cone said this morning that he wanted to order pizza from some place in Rehoboth, so we shouldn’t cook tonight.”I hadn’t grown tired of cooking, but it did seem nice to have the night off.

“Ah, exciting. I haven’t had pizza in ages.” Mrs. Cone patted her stomach. Her bikini was as small as Sheba’s and remindedme of a disassembled net bag. My mother wouldn’t have even considered it a bathing suit.

“What?” Dr. Cone looked up from his book. He’d been completely tuned out.

“Do they deliver or do we pick it up?” Sheba asked. “Maybe we can pick it up and then stop at a boutique and buy a new suitfor Mary Jane.”

I was wearing the one-piece I’d been wearing all summer. It had started out orange but had faded to a pale almost-pink color.“I don’t think my mother will let me wear a bikini,” I said.

“Your mother’s not here.” Sheba winked.

“Oh, let’s get a new suit for Mary Jane!” Mrs. Cone said.

“Do I need a new suit?” Izzy asked.

“No, you’re a perfect little ladybug.” I leaned in and kissed Izzy.

“But Mary Jane needs a new suit?”

“I don’t,” I said. “And it’s a waste of money. We only have two more days.”

“It is not a waste of money,” Sheba said. “When you run away from home and move to New York to live with me and Jimmy, youcan wear it there.”

“Mary Jane can’t leave me.” Izzy climbed into my lap and I kissed her again. I didn’t want to leave her. And I’d never oncethought of leaving my parents before college. But after Sheba had tossed out the idea of running away and living with herand Jimmy, I was momentarily infected with it. Like a fever that lets you see the usual world through the intensity of theunusual.

Dr. Cone called in the pizza and Mrs. Cone, Sheba, Izzy, and I went to pick it up. Jimmy was home by then, so he and Dr. Conedecided to do some work in the Office while we were gone.

Mrs. Cone drove and Sheba sat in the front seat. They were both wearing black pixie wigs and giant sunglasses. Sheba was wearing a terry-cloth shorts jumpsuit that zipped up the front and had a hood. Mrs. Cone was in her jean shorts that showed the white untanned edge of her bottom, and a tank top that revealed the outline of her nipples. Izzy and I wore jean shorts that did not reveal our bottoms and tank tops that did not reveal our nipples.

Mrs. Cone and Izzy went off to pick up the pizzas while Sheba and I went into the Red Crab Boutique. Sheba circled the store,pulling clothes off the racks without even checking the prices. I walked behind her. I didn’t realize she was choosing itemsfor me until she said, “Okay, Mary Jane, in the dressing room.”

I looked at the pile of clothes in Sheba’s arms. On top of the pile was a black crochet bikini that I immediately loved. ButI knew I could never wear it in front of my mother, or even at the Elkridge Club when my mother wasn’t there (my mother wasalways there). Crochet was subversive—it was the domain of hippies and pot smokers, and the Age of Aquarius. I really wouldhave to move in with Jimmy and Sheba if I wanted to wear this suit outside of my bedroom.

I opened a dressing room door, Sheba standing behind me.

“Mary Jane!” I jumped. It was Beanie Jones, coming out of the fitting room next to mine. She was holding a silver jumpsuitthat looked like liquid mercury. “I was wondering when I’d run into y’all! And the out-of-town guests!” She winked at Sheba as if she were a Cone family insider, and not a stranger to be lied to.

“Good to see you again.” Sheba put on her socialite voice. I wondered if she could remember the name she had come up with when we’d seen Beanie and her husband at Morgan Millard. I couldn’t.

“How did you know we were here?” I asked. Dr. Cone had told us that the Flemings, from whom we had borrowed the house, hadsworn not to tell anyone we were staying there.

“I saw your mother at Elkridge and she told me you were staying somewhere on Indian Dunes.” Beanie