Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [59]
She began to think of Annette. Nicole didn't have any doubt that Gary might have been having a few thoughts when he gave Annette that peck on the cheek. He did love young girls. But Nicole was also sure he would never have done anything, physically speaking. So from Nicole's point of view, Pete was still out of line. Anyway, Nicole didn't feel ready to stop things with Rosebeth.
In fact, she loved the way everything was new to the girl. Sex had never been new to Nicole. How beautiful if she'd been introduced to the subject like Rosebeth. It was exciting to watch Gary make her blossom. Of course, Gary also could get very demanding with the girl and order her to suck him good, stuff like that. It just turned him on the way the girl had this tremendous crush.
Then Nicole had to face another problem. During the week, when Gary was at work, and Rosebeth came over, Nicole still wanted to get it on with her. She wondered if she was moving into that side of sex a little deeper.
2
A couple of days later, Gary stopped off after work to pay Val for the Mustang. He had already missed the first installment and Val was upset. Of course, it was no big incident. Half the people Conlin sold cars to were sooner or later delinquent in payments. It just part of the ongoing hell-of-a-success-story that was Val's life.
In the last fifteen years, Conlin had gone from being manager of Orem Buick-Chevrolet to owning the dealership. Then he got into a big dispute with the Ford company and another with his partner, and before the litigation was over he had gone from being the largest new-car dealer in Utah County to being the smallest used-car dealer. One hell of a success story. Conlin Motors sold very old cars more often than not-so-old cars, just drive them off the lot for a little down. The rest when you could get it. People on welfare or picking up a little alimony, ex-cons, who couldn't get credit anyplace else. Those were his clients.
Val was a tall slim guy with eyeglasses and a keen and face. He had the build of a golfer-relaxed shoulders and a paunch. He was dressed this day in polyester red-checked pants and a pale yellow sports shirt. Gary was grubby with insulation whose powder coated his face, his nostrils, and his clothing. Kind of a yellow to match Val's shirt.
Conlin now gave Gary a lecture about missing the payment. Since V.J. Motors occupied what was once a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, its showroom wasn't large enough to show cars. It just had a couple of desks, a dozen chairs, and anybody who was there. You could hear everything Val Conlin had to say:
"Gary," he now stated, "I don't want to go out and start knocking on doors. I told you how it works. We try to set a rate you can handle. We agreed you could bring in fifty bucks every two weeks. Don't give me any manure that you're going to pay a hundred next week, or two hundred next month. You got to start bring money in on time."
"I don't like this car," Gary said.
"Well, it's not a real slick car," said Val.
"It gets left at the intersection by every other heap. It's a bad . . . "
"Partner," said Val, "let's get it straight. When you buy a car here, I'm doing you the favor. You can't buy from anybody but me."
"What I really want is a truck."
"Get the payments in on time. Once you pay this off, we can swap for a truck. But I want my fifty, Gary, every two weeks. Otherwise, you walk."
Gary cashed his paycheck and gave him fifty dollars.
That night Nicole and Gary had a bad one in bed. It went on too long and once again he was three-quarters erect, half erect, it finally went all bad. Gary got up, got dressed, stomped out of