Will calls me last at midnight. He's drunk and lonely and horny, and he's got a favor to ask of me.

"Let her come, Jami. Let her come out here, please."

"What are you talking about?" I was playing games. I knew exactly what he was talking about. He missed my imaginary assistant Amanda.

"You know she wants to come out here for a week, but you keep coming up with stupid jobs for her, stupid, stupid things that you know she doesn't need to do." Will was slurring his words.

I was sitting on my couch in a black lacy slip, sipping an Amstel Light that I found wedged in the back of my refrigerator. It must have been left over from some party. I would never buy Amstel Light. My cigarette lazily burned in an ashtray on the floor. I had my knees up to my chest, pressing against my breasts. I was cold but I didn't feel like putting on a sweater. I just felt like sitting and drinking and smoking and listening to the groans of a lonely man. I'm sick like that sometimes.

"Will, that's just not true. I think we both understand the importance of increasing vocabulary. I need her to read words and their definitions to me from the dictionary. And you know, I think it's been good for her, too. She's picking up some new big words. Just the other day she used the word 'dichotomy' appropriately in a sentence. You would have been so proud."

"There's nothing to do here in Illinois. It's so quiet. I look out my front door and there's nothing. Silence. Quiet streets, quiet cars, no honking, no nothing, no no no..."

"She's my imaginary assistant Will. I found her first."

"When she wakes up in the morning, curled up next to me, it's the most beautiful thing. Her skin is soft and she looks perfect. She feels good. She's so sweet to me."

I wasn't listening. I was thinking about the pedicure Amanda would be giving me the next morning. I thought about my sweet little toes, and the attention they so rightly deserved.

"She's my girl, Jami. You, of all people, shouldn't want to keep two lovers apart."

"Did I mention she also learned the meaning and correct pronunciation of 'hierarchy'? She had a little trouble with it for a while, kept saying, 'heerky, heerky, heerky,' over and over again. I'm wondering if she might be a little retarded, actually."

"Fuck hierarchy! Fuck dichotomy! I need her!"

I took a drag from my cigarette. I guess I was done playing. I heard the pain in his voice, and it was real. He made his bed by leaving town, yes, but I guess he didn't need to lie in it alone.

"She can take all of next week off, Will. That's fine. She has Thanksgiving off anyway."

"Really?" He sounded happy, and a little bit clearer.

"Really."

"You're the best."

"Yes, well, I know. What are friends for?"

A week without help. What would I do? I wonder if there's a temp agency for imaginary assistants. I'll have Amanda do some research on that this week.

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