Four Blondes

“No,” he says. If he gives in now, he’s finished.

“What do you mean, ‘No’?”

“No,” he says. “What do you think it means?”

“You must still be high,” she says.

“Probably,” he says. He looks up at the TV. He doesn’t feel unpleasant. The world has an interesting intensity that is, for once in his life, nonanxiety producing.

“Where are you going?”

“To a press conference.” (He has something important to do, too.)

“A press conference!”

“Monkeys,” he says. “Chimpanzees.”

“Which, James?” Winnie says (cleverly, he thinks. If she is back to her old tricks of trying to trick him, maybe she’s not that angry).

“I need a pen, too,” he says. “I can’t find my watch. I can’t leave without my watch.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” she says. She marches (and she’s the only person he knows who does march) the few feet to the head of the bed and presses the buzzer with her thumb. “I am praying that none of our friends get wind of this incident. This could ruin your career.”

“Could,” he says.

“Do you even care?”

“No,” he says.

A nurse comes into the room. “Yes?” she says.

“My husband can’t find his watch,” Winnie says. “Can you find it for him, please?”

“It’s on his wrist.”

“Well, how about that,” James says. He leans back on the pillows and looks at his silver Rolex with fresh appreciation. “It’s ten-thirty.”

“I know what time it is. I had to leave my office. Now get up and put your clothes on.”

The doctor walks in. “How are we doing this morning, Mr. Dieke?” he says.

“Richard?” Winnie says.

“Winnie?”

“How are you?” Winnie says, smiling pleasantly, as if James weren’t lying in a hospital bed, high, smelly, and partly naked. “I didn’t know you worked at Lenox Hill.”

“Why should you?” Richard says. “We haven’t seen each other since college.”

“We went to college together,” Winnie says. “What a coincidence. Richard Feble, my husband, James Dieke.”

“Well, I’m happy to say that your husband is doing just fine,” Richard says. “His EKG and his chest X rays came back normal, so all I can say is since you never know what’s in this stuff, stay away. If you have to indulge in illegal substances, smoke a joint. Okay? I don’t want to see you guys in here again.”

“Believe me, Richard, this was a complete fluke,” Winnie says. “James and I never—”

“I’m not your mother,” Richard says. “By the way, we found this in Mr. Dieke’s pocket. You might want to keep this.” He hands Winnie a small brown vial. It’s half full of white powder. He winks.

“Oh,” Winnie says. “Thank you.” She puts it in her purse. Glares at James. Now she’s a drug addict too. What if she gets caught with this stuff?