by Rob Pierce
I thought of Olive naked, didn’t know what she’d want, knew next to nothing about her. “Like I said, I’ll let you know.”
***
I worked, I bought beer at the corner market, I went home. Olive wasn’t getting me two nights in a row, not yet. Not unless the apartment scene went ballistic. No one else was home so I put on a Drive-By Truckers CD and drank beer on the couch. I wondered where Jeremy was. He was only ten, and he talked like he didn’t have a lot of friends, but he never got home before five. I hadn’t worried about it before, he had his geek buddies and he wasn’t getting beat up anymore, but now he said he called Davis sometimes. Who knew how much they hung out? Theresa sure didn’t, I’d seen that in her eyes last night, but I’d also seen she still cared about Davis. Davis was definitely in love with her, and Davis and Jeremy were “friends.” I wasn’t sure the six pack I’d bought would be enough. I turned up the music a little. I’d turn it down if the neighbors banged on the walls, but it was early, they’d probably think it wasn’t worth fucking with me.
I drank my beer, pissed off at Theresa. I never kept women, I never expected to. I wouldn’t put up with any bullshit. I finished my beer and started another.
The front door swung in, I’d left it unlocked. It was Jeremy. “That’s loud.” He dropped his backpack at the door. It thumped and he walked into the kitchen for his chug of milk from the carton. He came back out, stopped where I could see him.
“You always drink your milk like that?”
He might’ve been waiting for me to say something, but I guess that wasn’t it. “What?”
“From the carton. And your mom never said nothin?”
“I’m the only one here who drinks milk. You don’t. Mom doesn’t. Dave didn’t.”
I pressed my lips together tight and faked a smile. The kid was pushing me. He knew I liked him, but this took balls. “Dave? Is that what you want to talk about?”
“You made mom cry last night. You should talk to her.”
I turned down the music. “What did you guys talk about? After I left.”
Jeremy stepped into the living room, sat next to me on the couch. “Dave talks to me. About cards, and me. I told you. Last night I told mom. Mom just asks me what Dave says. You just ask me what Mom says.” Jeremy stood, backed away. He looked about to cry. He turned and walked down the hall to his room.
I let him go. I turned the music back up and I drank and I waited for Theresa. The music wasn’t helping anymore. I took another drink, crossed the room and flipped through the CD collection. I found something quiet and gloomy, put that on. I kept waiting, kept drinking.
***
I should have showered the second I got home. Theresa was due any minute; it was too late to leave the room. The music was depressing, I changed it again. I waited, I drank, I listened to early Black Sabbath. I wanted to be gone. Something about Theresa: I’d be here when she got home, I’d face her, but she’d betrayed me. I waited and I drank and her son hid in his room.
It was past seven and I was in pretty good shape when Theresa walked in.
“You’re a fucking mess.” She grabbed the remote and stopped the music.
I stood from the couch, beer bottle in hand. “You’re the one who stayed in love with the man who left you.”
“I’m not in love with him. And he didn’t leave me, I kicked him out. You walked out on me. While I was talking to Jeremy.”
I drank from my bottle, dropped it to my hip. “About Davis.”
She stepped closer to me. “Because he talks to Jeremy.”
I sat back down. “Because he doesn’t talk to you.”
Theresa stepped into the kitchen, grabbed a glass, poured herself a scotch. She stood at the bar. “I want him to leave Jeremy alone. I want him to be sane. And I want him to be gone.”
I finished my beer with a long swig, stood and stepped past her to the fridge, set the old beer on the counter and popped the new one open. I stood behind her and she turned her head.
She glared. “So where the fuck did you sleep last night?”
I took a step back and drank from my beer, leaned forward, set the bottle on the bar beside her. “I sleep where I have to when my woman can’t be trusted. You worried about Davis last night, he was yours last night. The nights you worry about me, we can talk about.”
“You fucked somebody.”
I stepped back fast as she slapped. She hit air.
I gave her a half smile, let it drop. “You want me, give up everyone else. But I never said it’s only you.”
Theresa showed tears. “It has to be.”
“Look at my world. It can’t always be that way.”
Theresa slugged back her scotch, stepped past me and poured another. “You don’t know what it’s like to raise a boy alone. When I met Davis—it was hard to let him go, Jeremy liked him so much. But he wasn’t right for me. Now I meet you, and Jeremy likes you too, and I’m not letting you go. Not so easy. Not yet.”
“Everything ain’t up to you. I see it in your eyes when you say his name.”
“You see what you want.”
I looked at her and drank. She looked and drank right back. My drink was taller than hers, but I set mine on the counter empty before she set her glass down half full. “You think I’m done with you.”
She turned her glass a half circle with thumb and middle finger. “You’re always halfway out the door or halfway in the bag. Some part of you’s never here.”
“You wanna keep me here? Let’s go.” I pointed to the bedroom.
Theresa shook her head. “I don’t want you when you’re drunk.”
“Then keep drinking too. You’ll want me when you’re drunk.”
“Don’t count on it.” Theresa drank her scotch.
I grabbed a beer from the fridge and the scotch bottle off the counter, took a swig from my bottle and poured her another glass. Her scotch tolerance against my beer tolerance, I figured we’d be even soon.
***
My arm was around Theresa when she got up, so I knew things were better. They weren’t fixed, things could go backwards, derail completely, but they were better than they’d been. I didn’t know if I wanted to fix them the rest of the way. There was still Olive.
I showered and shaved and put on clean clothes and went down to meet Rico.
I got there before him this time, got my coffee and waited at our usual table outside. He showed up in his winter wear, jeans and a t-shirt with a suit coat, except he wore sunglasses and it wasn’t that sunny.
“You been back home,” he said, and I smiled. He walked past me to go in and get his coffee.
He came back a minute later, sat with his coffee and sipped. “That’s good.” Smoke drifted up from his cup. “So, you good with Theresa?”
“Shit, hard to say. Why the shades?”
“Some dumbfuck hit me back.”
I grinned and shook my head. “Bet he’s regretting that.”
“When he wakes up he’ll regret it.” Rico laughed, and it was like nothing was funny. Life was business and mistakes and revenge.
“I don’t even want that kind of work. And I ain’t knockin what I’m doin, but I could go for a good bank job.”
“Maybe Tenny got somethin more your style.”
I shook my head. “I want a fucking bank. This is good, but it feels too much like work.”
“That’s what I’m sayin. Let me ask around, maybe there’s somethin out there, more of a rush.”
“Thanks, Rico. That’s what I need, a fuckin rush. What I really need’s a day off to scout some banks.”
“Tenny needs some word if you take a day off.”
“Yeah, no shit. I’ll do it on a Saturday or I’ll let you know.”
Rico looked up from his coffee. “With Tenny you ask.”
I laughed. “Told you it feels like a fuckin job.”
***
It wasn’t a nice bar but it served my purposes. It was near the apartment, the people were ugly and
the beer was cold. I drank and I didn’t give a shit about anyone else, talked a little at the bar but not enough to make anyone think I wanted to be their friend. I already had a friend I trusted and I didn’t need the other kind.
I didn’t stagger much on the way back to the apartment. Theresa was sure to want serious conversation, sure to be pissed I was late and drunk. I wasn’t in a mood to be lectured. I stopped at the corner store and bought a six pack.
The apartment door was locked. I set down my beers and got out my keys, found the right one and got the door open. The front room was dark. Good. I took my beers into the kitchen, put five in the fridge and sat on the couch. It was dark but I found the remote, turned the volume way down and hit play on the stereo. I sat there, rock playing a lot quieter than I liked it, but no one came out to bug me and I drank.
Still, it was too early to sleep. Even with all that beer in me, too much shit stuck in my head. I’d muddled it, but I hadn’t killed it. I finished my beer, got up for another. Apparently, Theresa wasn’t coming out. I turned up the music a little and sat back down on the couch.
***
The hall was dark, but there was light beneath the bedroom door. I opened it. Theresa sat looking at a book, her bedside lamp casting just enough light for reading.
I stepped into the room, shut the door behind me, took off my shirt and dropped it halfway across the room.
“Don’t leave that there.”
It was a greeting, but she didn’t look up. I sat on the edge of the bed, my back to her. My keys and change clanked as my pants hit the floor. I picked them up and my shirt too, tossed both into the hamper in the closet.
She sat with her book and I got under the blankets. She wasn’t about to fuck me or let me sleep. I folded my pillow behind me and sat uncomfortably beside her. If I knew I’d be sitting up I’d have brought a cushion from the couch. “How’s the book?”
“Fuck the book.”
Okay. Now we were on my turf. “You’re pissed about last night. Good. Cuz I’m pissed about last night. You want Dave back, go get him. You don’t want him, get that look outa your eyes when you say his name, let me take care of him. I can keep that motherfucker away.”
“I don’t want him back. I tried to tell you that. I worry about Jeremy. And you—what the fuck did you do last night?”
“I met Rico at a bar. Next time, you wanna meet Rico, stop talkin about Davis and you come too. Of course, Rico’s gonna wonder why I brought you, gonna ask about a threesome, except that’d be gross, so he’d try to get two more women in it… Believe me, you don’t wanna meet Rico.”
“But he’s your friend.”
I nodded. “I trust him and I work with him.”
“And you like him.”
I nodded again.
“But he’s a creep and an asshole, you said so.”
I laughed. “I described what he’s like, you’re the one said that shit. Rico’s a good guy.”
“Such a good guy you spent the night with him.”
Theresa sat on my right. I reached across my body with my left hand and clamped it down on her thigh. “Rico ain’t exactly pretty. You don’t gotta worry about me and him.”
I turned and kissed her. She sat there like rigor mortis had set in. I sat back where I’d been, looked at her. I didn’t want to walk out on everything here yet, but there was only so much shit I’d put up with. I looked at her a long time. She didn’t look back. I got out of bed.
“Where you going?”
I walked out the door, left it open, ambled half-pissed and half-confused to the kitchen. There were three beers left in the fridge. I grabbed all three, opened one as I walked, flicked the bottle cap down the hall and returned to bed.
“You gonna drink all those?”
I set the unopened bottles on the floor beside me. “And if they ain’t enough, I’ll switch to something else.”
“Jesus. This is gonna be a great conversation.”
I took a drink. “Has been so far.”
Theresa got out of bed. “I can’t—you can’t storm out every time you don’t like the way I say someone’s name. I’m getting a drink.”
She wore something too flimsy to be called a dress. It was loose but it showed a lot of leg; she looked great in it. I wanted her when she got back, but I knew it wouldn’t go like that. Still, she’d said something on her way out, which was better than the silent stares into space.
She returned with a bottle of wine and a full glass. She set both on the table next to her lamp, picked up her book from the bed and set it on the floor.
I let her get settled under the blanket before I spoke. “You don’t want me storming out. You think I like getting pissed off? Don’t piss me off.”
“I never took you for the sensitive type.”
I almost laughed. I shook my head instead. “I need to know what’s going on at my house. If this ain’t my house, I need to know that.”
“This is your house. I need you to not be crazy.”
“I’m not crazy. I can go there, but I don’t start that way.”
Theresa shook her head, like she didn’t know about that.
“Look,” I said, “I know you got a lot of business stress. But I gotta worry about Davis. I gotta worry is this situation too crazy to get into?”
“And you’re already in it.” Theresa brought a hand down flat between us. “But you gotta believe me. About Davis. About everything.”
I took a drink. “You believe me about everything?”
“I know you lied about last night.”
“It’s business. There’ll always be shit about me you can’t know.”
“Then say it’s business. And don’t storm out of here when you do it.”
I brought a hand down on hers, squeezed harder than she liked. I watched her face. When she grimaced, I let go. “Don’t fucking think about Davis.”
She nodded fast.
“You hear anything about him, tell me and I’ll take care of it.”
She nodded again, a little slower this time but her eyes stayed wide.
“You have this family, or you have that family.” I squeezed her hand again, not too tight this time. “Davis comes back, I might fucking kill him. You care about that, I should leave now.”
Theresa shook her head and again her eyes said nothing, I didn’t know what to believe. I turned and grabbed her by both shoulders and I kissed her and she kissed back and I leaned on her and believed what I wanted, which was not a thought in the world. I fell into her body.
***
It was Saturday, and I needed a bank. I knew Rico could get me work, but it wouldn’t be as safe and easy as collecting, and it wouldn’t give me the rush I wanted. There was nothing like a good solo heist, the teller’s fear mixing with mine, the rush of escape—freedom.
Then the wind-down, isolation somewhere, knowing I was as safe as I could get, and I might be dead if I felt safe at all. Every sense alert, not trusting anyone, ready for whatever came along. Whoever. Maybe that was another reason I needed this. I’d been with Theresa too long, it was time to hide away a while. She wanted some of what I had, but she wanted a safer version, a version with the edge off. She wanted me cool. I needed to burn.
I walked out the door, “Work stuff,” I told her, and it was okay if she didn’t believe that, maybe better. If she thought I was running around when I was working, I could hold it over her, whether she believed me or not. Anyway, banks were what I did. This other shit—I had to talk to Rico. I’d collect until after the Super Bowl, there was too much work until then and I wasn’t dumb enough to be the guy who left Tenny a man short
I didn’t have a lot of time, banks close early on Saturdays, but I’d done my mapping the night before on the computer, finding banks not too far away and near the freeway. I didn’t like freeways for escapes, I’d rather take a back road when the cops assumed I’d take a freeway, but they were a good option to have if you had to move fast. After a job I liked to disappear, show up
somewhere empty like a man just passing through, somewhere off the beaten path where no one would look. I was everything to the teller I robbed. Once I left the bank I wanted to be nothing.
There were five banks on my map. I’d be in and out of all of them between ten and one o’clock. If I found one that looked ripe, I’d study the area. The rest of today, tomorrow, however long it took. Driving felt good, knowing where I was going and why. Soon I’d be everything again, not this middle thing I’d become with Theresa. With women it was always that way. There was only so much I could get from them. With banks I took all I could and ran.
***
I drove south to get the layout of the banks. On my way back, I’d drive north and check the escape routes of the ones I liked. Valerie’s place was a little south of the last bank I checked. I called her when I was an hour out, let her know I’d be stopping in. She sounded glad to hear me, but she sounded like that no matter how fucked up she was.
The faded blue Volvo wagon sat in her driveway, leftover from when she thought her marriage would last and her children would live. I found a space on the street and parked. Other houses’ yards were green and mown; Valerie’s was brown and sprawling. At least she lived indoors.
I walked up her front steps, pressed the bell, heard nothing, knocked.
“Val!” I hollered. “It’s me!”
There was no such thing as paranoid after what she’d been through. But she knew my voice.
It took a minute, then the door opened a crack. “Dust?”
“Yeah.”
She opened the door enough to let me in. I stepped forward, slammed it shut, and she locked it behind me. We hugged. She held tight. I had to let her go, push her back a little. She used to be round in all the right places; now she just had bulk.
I kissed her gently on the cheek, glanced around. The house was tidy inside, not what you’d expect after seeing the yard. “Val, good to see ya. You okay?”
She nodded too fiercely.
“Got anything to drink?”
“I have mineral water, Dustin. It’s extra good mineral water.”
“Good,” I said. “That’s for you. I brought some scotch for myself.” I pulled a bottle from my back pocket, found the same old recliner in the same old spot, took a seat while Val settled as much as she could, perched on the edge of a couch cushion like she might fly off any second. She wore the biggest t-shirt I’d ever seen on a woman, but it wasn’t loose, and the sweat pants she wore fit the same—vast but snug.