She laughed. “I really don’t know how I’m going to make him fall for this,” she said.
“I’ve got faith in you. I’m sure you’ll find a way, Abby-girl.”
Chapter 25
Abby peeled off her alien suit and got back in bed beside Randall. “Hey Babe?”
“Huh?”
“Do you think we could get a cabin?”
“What do you mean by cabin?”
“Just that. A cabin. A little getaway place in the woods or by a lake.”
“Why would you want something like that when we have this beautiful home?”
“That’s like comparing apples to oranges, Randall.”
“First I get you a new vehicle, and then the very next day you turn around and want a cabin?”
“I needed a new vehicle. My car was getting old.”
“I guess so. But a cabin?”
“Yeah. Something cute. The total opposite of this place. Not that I don’t love our house, because I do.”
“So is our house the apple or the orange?” he asked.
“It’s the apple. Of course.”
“Is this so you can try out your outdoors skills?”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“If you want to go to the mountains or something, we can take a trip like that. I used to go camping every summer when I was a boy. Did I ever tell you that?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Didn’t you ever see the pictures of me catching fish?”
“Oh, I guess so.”
“Those were at my grandparents’ place up in Wisconsin. My ma’s parents. I called them Granny and Pa.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Until I was about seven we used to go up there every summer. Happiest time of my life. I can still remember it.”
“Cute.”
“Then they both died of lung cancer and that was the end of that.” Randall sighed and shook his head.
“Awe. Sad,” Abby said.
“It was on little river. It didn’t have much else going for it, but it didn’t matter.”
She nodded.
“But it was a different time,” he said.
“Sure,” said Abby.
“None of us knew what the hell was going on. We were totally oblivious. Fishing and singing Kum Ba Yah around the fire at night. It makes me so fucking mad to think back on it. He had us fooled! We were in la la land.”
Abby was pretty sure he meant his father, but she decided it was better not to ask. She nodded.
“We thought we were one happy family. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t perfect. What I remember is how much space there was in the woods. It was a different world from that apartment we lived in. And it brought out a better side of both my parents.”
She didn’t know what to say so she patted his shoulder a couple of times.
“No, it wasn’t perfect. But those summers were damn close.”
“It sounds really nice,” she said.
He focused on her again. “Sugartitties, if we go out to the woods, we’re going to stay someplace nice. I’m not opposed to doing something like that. I think it’s cute that you’re learning all these things.”
She felt a heavy, sick thud in her gut when he said that. “Oh, Randall,” she said. She’d rather if he were never kind.
“What about that Chateau Marquez Lodge that won all those hospitality awards? They’re always sending us vouchers. I’ll take you there, Sugartitties. They’ve got mooseheads on the wall, or whatever it is you’re looking for.”
“I want our own little place, Randall. Somewhere around here, so we can go there all the time. A little getaway place.”
“Where would you want it to be?”
“Not far away. Maybe within an hour or so? Someplace we could go to on the weekends. I don’t know. Is there any place like that around here?”
“We live in Florida, not the Poconos,” he said.
“I know, I know. I guess I want a cute little place to decorate. Maybe what I mean isn’t cabin. Maybe it’s cottage.” She then laid her trump card: “Like Hal and Marla Bergman’s little place we visited a couple of summers ago.”
“Ohhh. A place like that. A little place.”
“Yeah. Just a little place.”
Randall scratched his armpit. “Yeah. A little place like Hal’s got.”
“We could have a garden and flowers, and a Smeg refrigerator.”
“A what?”
“Never mind.” She realized she was actually getting caught up in this and forgetting the true point of it.
“A what refrigerator?”
“And antiques! Would you let me decorate it with antiques?”
“I don’t know about any of this.”
“Danna-Dee mentioned that she and Clark have been thinking of getting a little place, too,” Abby lied. “Or, wait. On second thought, please don’t repeat that to Clark; I think I wasn’t supposed to know about it until they decide if they can afford it.” Trump card two.
“Huh,” Randall said.
“It needs to be kind of close though, because I really want to decorate it, and we want our friends to be able to come to it on the weekends and stuff when we’re hosting barbeques and hammock parties.”
“Hammock parties? Are you shittin’ me right now?”
“No I’m not shitting you.” She playfully hit him on the arm. He was still dressed in his suit. Alien sex was one of the few times he was willing to make an effort. “I mean, we don’t want to be the last couple to get a cabin, right?”
“So you’re telling me Clark wants a cabin?” asked Randall.
“I’m not talking about a place without electricity and running water. I’m talking about a little getaway.”
“I can’t see Clark being into that kind of thing.”
“I think maybe he thinks it’s a good investment.”
“Really?”
“Probably it’s more Danna-Dee’s idea than his, but I got the impression they thought it was, you know, kind of the thing to do. Now remember, Randall: You can’t say anything about this to either of them. Danna-Dee was afraid it might be a smidge outside their budget, and Clark would probably feel really embarrassed if he knew that you knew about it, and then it didn’t end up happening.”
“I can’t believe he’d have any concern about buying a little place. I get the impression they have plenty of money.”
“I guess you never know.”
“I guess not. How much money are you thinking?”
“You’re the money expert, Honey. Not me!” She’d already picked up some real estate booklets from the local grocery store; Searching online was never safe. There were tons of inexpensive options. She felt certain if Randall looked into it with any seriousness he’d see they could easily afford it.
“That’s true,” he said, absentmindedly playing with Abby’s hair. “Yeah, I’ll take a look into it tomorrow. We can probably afford a little place without it changing our lifestyle.”
“Can I pick it out?”
“Tell you what, Sugartitties: I’ll pick out the right general location and a budget, and you’re in charge of the rest.”
“Wow,” she said. “Do you really mean it?”
“Yeah. Sure. What the hell. If everyone else is going to buy a cabin, I guess we’d better get one too.”
“And I can pick it out?”
“That’s what I said.”
“And I can even choose the furniture?”
“Even the furniture.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a kiss and almost meant it.
“You’re welcome. Jesus Christ. Why does my cock feel tingly?”
“Weird.” It was, of course, the Derma Numb.
“That’s been happening a lot lately. Every time we have sex.”
“Uh oh. I think it’s a side effect of Viagra,” said Abby.
“Where’d you hear that?”
“I read it in one of Danna-Dee’s Good Housekeeping magazines. After prolo
nged usage, it can be permanent.”
“You don’t say. Shit. I knew those pills were too good to be true.”
Chapter 26
Abby had been concerned that Randall would want to come to the flea market with her. That fear was quickly snuffed out; both the vendors and customers at the flea market were nothing but idiots and criminals, he informed her. Especially the vendors. He said if anyone would have hired them, they wouldn’t be selling old shit to make a living. She could go there while he was at work, but he wasn’t going to be involved in her little cottage project.
Then she feared he would wonder how she was getting furniture loaded up into her SUV. Actually, though, he never asked. Once or twice she mentioned how friendly and helpful the sellers there were, but he wasn’t paying attention anyway, so she quit mentioning it.
Then she became worried that he would wonder how the furniture was getting inside the cottage, but Charlie solved that problem by purchasing some white coveralls and borrowing his cousin’s white utility van on the rare occasion when Abby couldn’t get her purchases inside the house on her own. This way, if anyone was watching, it looked like she had called a mover to help her. If she got inside the van and gave the furniture a little push, Charlie was shockingly strong at getting whatever bulky thing was in there down to the ground.
There weren’t any neighbors nearby, since the cottage was on a dead-end road by a small lake, but in case a nosy neighbor was out for a walk, Abby wanted to be extra careful. She would tell Randall she’d paid the ‘moving guy’ in cash if he asked, but he never did.
He had inexplicably become so content with his tracking systems and frequent sex, and distracted by some kind of work project that promised an eighty thousand dollar bonus, that he had little concern over any this.
The plan was working perfectly. The cute little yellow cottage with the white picket fence had been outfitted with flea market finds, most of them in the $20-80 range. By the time they’d owned it for a month, it was furnished and Abby had stowed away almost $40,000. Randall had no idea how cheaply old furniture could actually be purchased, and didn’t blink at the piles of forged receipts, created from a variety of different store-bought receipt tablets, or written on random scraps of paper, all for sales of ridiculously huge amounts.
Vintage table and chairs $250 Charlie had scrawled in slanting handwriting. Stop back at my booth next time! More vintage items arriving soon, he’d then added, topping off his handiwork with a smiley face.
When Abby got home she found a black Sharpie like Charlie had used in creating this receipt and she carefully added another zero, turning it onto $2500. In reality, the table and chairs had come from a garage sale right down the street from Charlie’s apartment for $80.
Unique curio cabinet, $850; porcelain dog figurines 6 x $25 each. Total=$1000 Enjoy your treasures! said a differently forged receipt for a pile of stuff Charlie had found in the dumpster corral a few blocks from where he lived.
“Is this too outlandish?” he’d asked. “A thousand bucks for some chipped up dogs and a cabinet to hold them?”
“No. I think he’ll fall for it. He’s been in a really good mood lately.”
“That’s good for you. Right?”
“I guess. Nice job on this one,” Abby’d said, turning the subject back to the curio cabinet receipt. “It looks like genuine girl handwriting.”
“Yeah it does. What can I say? I have skills. Hey, how are you doing saving money? You got a lot stockpiled?”
“I’m getting there,” said Abby.
“How much have you got?”
“I’m not sure. Quite a bit.”
“Like, a thousand dollars? Two thousand?”
“Somewhere in there.”
“Where are you hiding it? No place he could find it, right?”
“No, I’m being careful.”
“Maybe I should hold on to it for you.”
“Um. Maybe. I’ll bring it next time we get together.”
“Good idea,” said Charlie.
Her secret money stash was hiding in empty shampoo bottles beneath her bathroom vanity. The morning of her next encounter with Charlie she carefully removed twelve one hundred dollar bills from one of the bottles. She drove herself to the flea market and wandered about, looking for him. She was dressed in her oldest clothes and had no concerns about running into anyone important there, but she still didn’t want to be seen with him. When she caught sight of him, she passed by him and whispered, “Charlie, come over this way.”
“Did you find something good?” he asked.
“No, I need you to do me a favor.”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Could you hold onto this for me?” She pressed the wad of bills into his hand.
“Sure. Of course,” he said. He shoved it into his pocket without looking at it.
“Thanks. Do you see that guy over there who keeps staring at us?” she asked.
“That’s my cousin. He’s staring at us because he recognizes me.”
“I’m glad he’s someone you know. For a second I thought maybe Randall was having me followed. God. I’m so paranoid.”
“No, you’re safe,” he said.
“Is your cousin a criminal? Randall said everyone who sells stuff here is a criminal.”
“No. He’s a regular guy. Why are we talking about Randall?”
“I don’t know. We’re not.”
“Good. What are you doing after you’re done here?”
“I think I’m going to buy some knickknacks and get going,” Abby said. She and Charlie were starting to get entirely too casual about being seen in public together. She didn’t like that his cousin was watching them, considering them a couple, learning to identify her.
“Want to come back to my place?”
“Umm…”
“Or I could stop by the cabin? That’s what it’s for, right?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to get caught.”
“You have sunglasses on and old clothes.”
“But people might still recognize me.”
“I don’t think so. No offense, Babe, but you look pretty rough,” he said.
“You don’t have to go that far.”
“I’m just saying, no one here would ever recognize you, or be connected to your hoity-toity world. Right?”
“I don’t know. I guess not.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
“We can’t go to the cabin, though. Randall is going to be installing cameras in there as soon as he gets caught up at work. I mean, he won’t install them, but he’ll get someone to do it. So seriously, Charlie, please don’t even think of stopping by there. It could be really bad.”
“They’re not there yet, though. Right?”
“Probably not. But still.”
“It was just a suggestion.”
“I know, but it’s not a habit we can get into.”
“Okay. Forget I said it. Come over to my place for a little while. I could leave your cell phone with my cousin, so it looks like you’re still here.”
“I don’t know about that.” Abby glanced back at the cousin. His hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks. He was simultaneously swatting at a fly and scratching his butt. Sensing that Abby was watching him, he looked up and his eyes met hers. He winked. She repressed a gag and looked down.
“You cold?” Charlie asked.
“It’s eighty-five degrees out.”
“You were shivering.”
“No I wasn’t. Are you literally related to him, or is cousin a figure of speech?”
“He’s literally my cousin. Are you going to come over to my apartment? Don’t you want to be with me?” he whispered, leaning in and putting an arm around her back.
“Please, not in public,” Abby said under her breath.
“What’s wrong?” Charlie asked, pulling away from her.
“Nothing. Sure. We
can go to your place for a little bit.” It seemed like the only way to make this stop.
“Cool. Give me your phone.”
Abby looked back over at Charlie’s cousin, just as he was looking down, pretending he hadn’t been watching them. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked.
“Sure I’m sure. What are you afraid he’s going to do?”
“Call someone, and then I’ll be in trouble for it.”
“I’ll tell him not to.”
“Fine,” she said. She handed the phone to him. “You might as well give him these too.” She handed over her keys. “Randall told me they also have a tracker on them. I guess in case you lose them you can log in and find where they are. I don’t even know if he’s telling me the truth, he just mentioned it the other day, and I felt like he was making it up, but just to be safe…”
“You sure?”
“I guess. I’ll meet you at your truck.”
She walked past the booths, retracing the long way back to the parking area. Halfway back she bought a few old perfume bottles and some cast iron trivets, for the purpose of creating receipts. Everyone who looked her way seemed like a spy. The back of her neck prickled despite the heat.
She found Charlie’s truck and wandered around near it. She considered opening the tail gate so she’d have a place to sit, but she thought it was better to not be associated with it. On the unlikely chance that Randall or Krissa suddenly showed up looking for her, at least she could say she was lost and looking for her vehicle if she was wandering around. She wasn’t sure how she would explain having no keys for it.
The minutes ticked by. Without her phone she wasn’t sure how many, but it felt like an awfully long time. Just as she decided to walk back to the flea market, she saw Charlie making his way toward her.
“Sorry that took so long,” he said.
They got in to his truck and started on their way back to the city. Both windows were down, the wind cooling Abby’s sweaty face and neck.
“So, what took so long? Was everything okay?” she asked when Charlie offered no explanation for the delay.
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