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"Which one ran into the pigpen to help you?" Pete asked her.
"See the small guy in the boxers? The little boy's daddy--that's the one," Amy said. "My rescuer."
"Thanks," Pete said to Danny.
"We appreciate it," Georgie told the writer.
Lady Sky was only slightly less formidable-looking when she was dressed, in part because she dressed like a man--except for her underwear, which was black and skimpy. Amy wore a blue denim workshirt, tucked in, and jeans with a belt with a big buckle; her cowboy boots had a rattlesnake pattern. She walked over to where Danny was holding little Joe. "If you're ever in trouble, I'll be back," Lady Sky told the boy; she bent over him, kissing his forehead. "Meanwhile, you take care of your daddy," she said to Joe.
Katie was dancing by herself again, but she was watching how the skydiver made a fuss over her husband and little boy; Katie never took her eyes off the big woman. There was a song from The Rolling Stones' album Between the Buttons on the radio, but Danny could never remember which song it was. By then, he'd had a third beer and was working on his fourth--this was on top of the red wine, and he still hadn't eaten. Someone had once again changed the station on the car radio, the writer had noticed. He'd watched Lady Sky kiss his son, sensing that the kiss was meant for him; Amy must have known there was no better way to make an impression on a parent than to be nice to the beloved child. But who was she? Danny wanted to know. The scar from her cesarean section must have made her someone's mother, but Danny wondered if one of the stooges with her was her husband or boyfriend.
"Can we get anything to eat here?" Georgie was asking.
"Believe me, Georgie, we don't want to eat here," Amy told him. "Not even Pete," she added, without looking at him--as if Pete couldn't be trusted to make his own food decisions. Danny didn't think she was sleeping with either of them.
The pilot and copilot tried to be careful how they stuffed the parachute and the skydiver's harness into the trunk of the car, but it was impossible not to get some pig shit on themselves in the process. Amy got into the driver's seat of the car.
"You driving, Amy?" Georgie asked her.
"It looks like it," she told him.
"I'll get in the back," Pete said.
"You'll both get in the back," Amy told them. "I've smelled enough pig shit today." But before the men could get into the car, the skydiver said: "You see that pretty little woman, the dancer, over there? You can see her tits through her shirt--that one."
Danny knew that both Georgie and Pete had already noticed Katie; most men did.
"Yeah, I see her," Georgie said.
"What about her, Amy?" Pete asked.
"If you ever lose me--if my chute doesn't open, or something--you can ask her to do anything. I'll bet you she'd do it," the skydiver said.
The pilot and copilot looked uneasily at each other. "What do you mean, Amy?" Pete asked.
"You mean she'd jump out of an airplane without any clothes on--you mean that kind of thing?" Georgie asked the skydiver.
"I mean she'd jump out of an airplane without a parachute," Amy told them. "Wouldn't you, honey?" she asked Katie.
Danny would remember this--how Katie liked it when the attention came to her, for whatever reason. He saw that his wife had found her sandals, though she wasn't wearing them. She held the sandals in one hand, her wineglass in the other, and she just kept moving her feet--she was still dancing. "Well, that would depend on the circumstances," Katie said, lolling her head and neck to the music, "but I wouldn't rule it out--not categorically."
"See what I mean?" Amy asked Georgie and Pete, as the two men got into the backseat. Then the skydiver drove away, giving the artists the finger out the window of the car. Patsy Cline was singing on the radio, and Katie had stopped dancing; someone must have changed the station again.
"I don't want to eat the pig," Joe told his dad.
"Okay," Danny said. "We'll try to eat something else."
He carried the boy over to where his mother had stopped dancing; Katie was just swaying in place, as if waiting for the music to change. She was drunk, Danny could tell, but she didn't smell like marijuana anymore--he'd shampooed every trace of the pot out of her hair. "Under what circumstances would you ever jump out of an airplane without a parachute?" the writer asked his wife.
"To get out of a boring marriage, maybe," Katie answered him.
"Since I'm the driver, I'd like to leave before dark," he told her.
"Lady Sky is an angel, Mommy," Joe said.
"I doubt it," Katie said to the boy.
"She told us she was an angel sometimes," Danny said.
