Page 66 of Alonzo

“Which, by the way, is inappropriately luxurious for such a small house with absolutely no personality. Your question about white or black marble the other day when we were phone-fucking makes a little more sense now.”

“Why does everyone say my house is boring? Jesse said that too. Don’t you guys get it? I’m the personality in this house. Me.”

She looks at my body for a moment. Not my dick, either. My arms, and chest, and shoulders.

My tattoos.

My mermaids and monsters.

My sailors and sirens.

The oceans of ink that cover me.

Then her eyes find mine again. “You are that. No doubt.”

“You don’t like them? The tattoos?”

“What’s not to like about them? Your body is a work of art. I love them. They’re beautiful. But Lonnie the accountant doesn’t have tattoos. I mean, maybe he got drunk one night in college and his buddies talked him into a tramp stamp—”

I guffaw.

“—of a butterfly. I could possibly see that. But this?” She stares at my chest, which depicts a scene of a Viking-type sailor and a woman who is maybe a mermaid or maybe a Valkyrie. “Never in a million years would Lonnie have a tattoo like that.”

“Well, to be fair… you aren’t really a librarian, are you, Tara?”

“I am a librarian. You have so much proof of who I am.”

“OK. But before you were this person you were someone else too, weren’t you?”

“Isn’t everybody someone else at one point? So what? I didn’t lie about my job, or my life, or the fact that I had a whole family down here in Key West. I feel like a fool, Alonzo.”

Hearing Tara say my real name shocks me in a small, but not insignificant way.

“I feel like… an idiot. Because Belinda kept telling me it was a lie.”

“Belinda?” I say it too loud and the word echoes in the bathroom. “Her fucking name is Rosalie. And she’s from here. She used to date my brother Tony before she disappeared. And I don’t know what she told you about us, but it’s all her fault.”

“She didn’t tell me much. Except that it was all your fault. Whatever ‘it’ is.”

“Our fault? Fuck her. She’s the one who stuck her nose into things and… she got people arrested, Tara. Things went sideways because of that girl. And the only reason my mother still likes her is because—”

But I stop myself. Just in time.

“Is because why?”

“Never mind. I don’t really care what Rosalie is up to. But whatever she told you about me, it’s only half the story.”

“She didn’t even know who you were until three days ago. And I literally just found out an hour before we showed up here on your street that she knew you. But she didn’t need to know who you were to understand what you were up to all this time, Lonnie. Lies. Because that’s what people do when they only date on the internet.” She pauses, like she’s considering something. Then she lets out a huff. “Are you even single?” Her hand comes up to her temple and she sighs. Like this new consideration is the last straw and that headache she’s been trying to stave off is now a full-on throb.

“Yes. I’m single. Well, no. I’m not.”

“Oh, fuck this. I can’t.”

She turns to leave but I grab her arm. “Tara. I’m with you. I’m not single because I’m with you.” When she looks at me, I get very sad. Because she looks very sad. And I’m the reason. “I told you on the phone the last time we talked. I invited you down here. I showed you the real me. I told you, Tara. I wanted more. So I get that you don’t trust me, but I came clean first. Before you discovered the lies. And that has to count for something.”

She says nothing.

“Doesn’t it?”