THE TRILBY HAT

"I moved into a friend's apartment," said Bunny, "and about two weeks later I met Dudley at Chester 's—that East Side bar for young swells. Within five minutes of meeting him, I was annoyed. He was wearing spectator shoes, a trilby hat, and a Ralph Lauren suit. His lips were damp. He was tall and skinny, with no chin to speak of, eyes like boiled eggs, and a large, bobbing Adam's apple. He sits

down, uninvited, at our table, and he insists on ordering martinis for everyone. He tells bad jokes, makes fun of my pony-skin designer shoes. T'm a cow, moo, wear me, he said. 'Excuse me, but I believe you're the big beef, I said. I was embarrassed to be seen talking to him.

"The next day, sure enough, he called. Shelby gave me your number, he said. Shelby 's a friend of mine and somehow related to George Washington. I can be rude, but only up to a point. T didn't know you knew Shelby, I said. 'Su-u-re, he said. 'Since kindergarten. Even back then he was a goofy kid.

" 'He was? What about you? I said.

"My mistake. I should never have gotten started with him. Before I knew it, I was telling him all about my breakup with Dominique, and the next day, he sent flowers 'because a beautiful girl shouldn't be depressed about being dumped. Shelby called. Dudley 's a great guy, he said.

"'Yeah? I said. 'What's so great about him?

'"His family owns half of Nantucket.

" Dudley was persistent. He sent gifts—stuffed bears and, one time, a Vermont cheese basket. He called three or four times a day. At first, he set my teeth on edge. But after a while, I got used to his bad sense of humor and almost looked forward to his calls. He listened with fascination to any spoiled, mundane detail of my day: you know, like how I was pissed because Yvonne had bought a new Chanel suit and I couldn't afford one; how a taxi driver kicked me out of the cab for

smoking; how I cut my ankle again shaving. He was setting a trap for me and I knew it—but I still thought that I, of all people, could get out of it.

"And then came the weekend invitation, via Shelby, who called me and said, 'Dudley wants us to go to his house in Nantucket with him.

"'Not on your life, I said.

"'His house is beautiful. Antique. Main Street.

'"Which one? I asked.

"'I think it's one of the brick ones.

'"You think?

" 'I'm pretty sure. But every time I was there, I was fucked up. So I don't really remember.

"'If it's one of the brick houses, I'll think about it, I said.

"Ten minutes later, Dudley himself called. T already bought your plane tickets, he said. 'And yeah, it's one of the brick houses. "

Date: 2014-12-29; view: 873