Slowly, as I wait, I watch ego start to fight with reality, all over Mike’s face. I don’t let myself think about anything but football. That keeps the fear away. I release my tight hold on Grimshaw’s bathrobe, and it falls open, and I let him search for what’s underneath. Never taking my eyes off him, I slowly reach out and pick up Grimshaw’s menthols, which she left on the table. I brush past him and walk to the sink. When I get there, I pivot, just like a stripper. I put the cigarette in my mouth.

“Have a light?”

“Ah …” He starts patting all his pockets and then he sees Grimshaw’s lighter on the table. “Here we go.” He picks it up and holds it out for me. I inhale and hold the smoke in my lungs for a minute. My mother said Mike Lyle wasn’t very bright. Let’s hope she’s right.

“Melody’s pregnant.” I don’t know where that one comes from. But it works.

Mike swallows. “She is? She is not. Are you sure?” He looks like a bone is stuck sideways in his throat.

“Are you?” I blow a smoke ring at him. “Yeah.” I laugh. “Pretty soon that vanity plate will be on a used minivan just like Mrs. Grimshaw’s. ‘Viper.’ And that’s the closest you’ll get to it, Mike. Grimshaws come by the dozen, you know. Lots of little vipers.” I tap the ashes onto the floor and take another drag.

Mike turns around and looks through the window at his car. And I see the way forward. I’m going to take his upward mobility away from him, and then I’m going to sell it back to him at a very high price. When he turns to me again, he’s frowning. I answer his next question before he can ask it.

“She sent me a postcard about it. How do you think I knew where to find you? She wants to go home.” I blow smoke in his face. “But I don’t.” He studies me, and then a slow, crooked grin softens his face, as if now he understands what the problem was all along.

“Why?” he says. “You want to go in the bedroom and fool around?” In the bathroom, the dryer buzzes. I brush by him. I turn around in the bathroom doorway, put my arms over my head, for my final pose. His mouth is open.

“I don’t fool around with other women’s guys,” I announce. In his breast pocket, his cell phone rings. It startles him, and he fumbles for it. It’s Grimshaw. I can hear her demanding to know where he is. He doesn’t answer her.