"Never heard that before," says Blaine. "You look pretty good yourself. Single life must agree with you." Todd had gone through a divorce about four years ago. It had been rough on him, mainly because of the two kids. He has a boy, Donnie, and a girl Tara. Blaine had always thought his wife April was a bit of a bitch. Though he'd never said anything. You didn't rain on a guy's parade like that. Until it was over, of course. Then it was fair game. Then they asked you why you never had said anything before.
"Stackin' 'em up," Todd says. "Cutting a patch through the hayfield, if you know what I mean." He grins.
The thing with Todd is he probably really is cutting a path through the ladies. He's always been good with women. Stole one off Blaine one time, though he said that she and Blaine had already been broken up. Blaine has his timeline wrong, is confused, he says. Blaine is not exactly sure of that.
"How's business going?" Blaine asks.
"All good, my man, all good. Little of this, little of that. Surviving."
Todd had gotten a degree in marketing, taken a high-priced job with one of those public relations firms where you had to produce to stay on, had done real well long enough to put some money into real estate and now owned a number of properties, though Blaine was unsure how many or what they were worth. Todd told him what he wanted him to know, and he didn't push the rest. He had a real estate license, and always seemed like he had some species of deal working. Lucky for him his divorce had occurred during the '08 downturn, and he had been able to keep more than he would have in a good economy, though Blaine knows he shells out a bunch for his kids. He loves those kids.
Todd had never liked working for anybody, and Blaine understands that too; he never has either. That's what usually goes unsaid when he and Renee argue, mostly because it sounds weak in his own ears. Who does like working for somebody else? Sometimes you just need to man up and bite the bullet. But he's like that guy in the movie Gladiator, the black guy who says something about knowing his time is coming, but "not yet."
Todd grunts, looking at the businesses they are passing on 45, all the traffic and activity. "Man, this place is hopping," he says, buildings and sunlight reflecting off his glasses. "Opportunity knocking here, bro."
What Blaine admires about Todd is that he had gone out to the cold, hard state of California all by himself, with nothing but his degree and his brains, guts and drive, and had built something up out of that. And it shows in him; he has that air of confidence that would be considered cocky if he didn't back it up. But he usually does.
They pass Dandylions on the left, a well-known strip club on the highway, and Todd hoots.
"Let's go see some women," he says.
"Later, if you want," says Blaine. "Let's get into town first, get you settled, run get some grub. Then if you want to come up here, it's on."
"Yeah, you're right," Todd says. "The hot ones aren't out until later, anyway."
The club had been the center of some controversy, he remembers, about being too close to a school or serving minors. Something. The sign is large. You can't miss it from the highway. They had gone a few times before in their younger days. Back then they had some women in there that would knock your lights out. Always some hot babe willing to put out after her shift, or give you a full-contact lap dance in one of the private rooms for a small fee. Or, more likely, a large fee. Blaine knows that objectification of women is on the list of the politically incorrect these days, but it's one cause he just can't get behind. Hell, the objectification of women is what had driven the species forward, though it seemed like these days, they had turned things around and given men a taste of their own. Put the shoe on the other foot. If we didn't watch it, we'd all be wearing bags attached to our asses so we didn't pollute the air. It all has to end someplace, doesn't it? He remembers a friend who dropped thousands of dollars in that place in one night, ran through all his cash and then maxed out his cards. Woke up the next day not remembering what he'd done. The power of love.
Chapter 12
But by the time they hit Salsas for some nachos and enchiladas and make it to the house, all Todd really wants to do is hang around for a bit and shoot the bull. He's got a touch of jet lag, he says. Of course he asks about the light and the tunnel and all. Blaine is thinking of having little cards printed. Maybe "Death ain't all that" or "That light I saw was a train coming." Blaine shows him the spot where it happened and Mandy's house.
"Nothing good ever came from a girl named Mandy," Todd says.
"That your expert summation of the situation, huh bro?" Blaine says.
"I think Barry Manilow did all the necessary summing. That song came out and women named their squalling baby girls like it was mandytory." Blaine groans.
"So she's going to stiff you for the insurance, huh? You need a lawyer, man." He is propped up on one elbow, laid out on the couch. The flat screen is going without the sound on. Some tennis match. "She owns that house, right?"
"Yeah," Blaine says. "She bought it when her dad died just a while back."
"Hell," Todd says, "She probably owns it free and clear. You get a big judgment against her, she'll have to pay you or lose it."
"She seems like a nice girl, Todd. I hate to do that."
"You don't seem to realize what's happening here," his brother says. "She is taking you to the hoop. Your insurance company's not going to let that happen anyway. If they have to pay your deal, then they're going to sue her to try and recover their losses. And if you don't turn in a claim on it, then you're going to wind up eating all those hospital bills. You can't be a nice guy on this, bro."
"Can they do that?"
"Damn straight they can," Todd says. "What you want to do is get on top of the situation, keep it between you and her, before all that gets started. She got a job?"
"I don't really know," says Blaine.
"Well, you need to find out," his brother says. "Get her down here for a little powwow. If she's got a job, and she owns that house free and clear, she can get a loan and pay you."
Blaine turns all that around in his head for a few minutes. Todd is sinking down into the couch, watching the tennis ball move from side to side. He thinks over Todd's analysis of the situation. He is probably right, as he usually is, on money deals. The girl doesn't pay then his insurance does. Then they will try to recover their money from her. It makes sense. It's not like she's some homeless alien that just made it across the border with only the clothes on her back. She owns a home. If he doesn't get her to settle up with him, then she will just have to settle up with them later on. Damages. Interest. All of that.
Todd is sleeping now on the couch, and Blaine thinks: but why get in the middle of it at all? Why not just let the insurance company handle it. Then he's out of it, no hard feelings anywhere. They pay the hospital, and if they want to go after the girl then that's their business. It seems like the process will do just fine without him. The hospital gets paid, and his insurance company has the hassle, not him. He's thinking that Todd probably figures they can get some extra money from Mandy for their time and trouble. And maybe they can, but Blaine doesn't want to go that way. His brother makes his living making deals, and he's good at it. But after spending his life looking for the angles he tends to always be looking for them. Life is a series of negotiations for Todd, and he is always on the make for the deal. He is like the man with the hammer who sees nails everywhere. Once in a while they do a trip together, climbing in the mountains or skiing, and it always turns into a series of bargaining sessions. Where they should stay. The time of year. Who waits at the airport where they meet. What hotel and who drives. Todd bargains just for practice. Just to see where you draw your lines in the sand.
He is snoring on the couch, and Blaine smiles. He really wouldn't have it any other way. Keeps him sharp, for one thing. His brother doesn't miss much. He is one of the brightest people Blaine knows. He goes to the hall closet, takes a blanket out and drapes it over him. Not a fussy sleeper either. Falls out just about any plac
e he lands. Blaine is thankful for their closeness. They have done some things together, been in some hairy spots up in the mountains. They have built a bond that is more than the once a year meet and eat for some holiday and see ya next year. To work with people all the time you had to like them, and Todd did. He talked to people everywhere he went, from waiters to convenience store clerks to company presidents. Ever since their dad had died he had been the one who kept pulling the family together.
Blaine sits at the table idly thumbing through a brain book. He might be smart about that stuff, but there were certainly different types of smart. He mulls the Mandy thing over. Maybe they should go down and see her tomorrow. She might not know that the insurance company will come after her regardless what she and Blaine agree to. Do her a favor, give her a heads-up. That could save her and her credit rating a beating in the long run. She could get proactive. Contact them and make arrangements to pay without losing a bundle on her FICO score. He remembers when he was her age. He didn't even know what a FICO score was. In this day and age you needed to be in the know. Computers don't forget. It wasn't like when he came up: you screwed up, somehow, and it might get buried in the mists, lost in the paperwork. It is the computer age, now, baby: memory central. Nothing lost anymore. If you did it, odds were it would be on record somewhere forever. Or close enough so it doesn't make any difference.
He considers waking his brother to put him in the guest bedroom but that just seems stupid. He appears to be doing fine where he's at. Blaine yawns, stretches, flips out the dining room light and heads to bed also. Better get some rest. No telling what Todd would get them into tomorrow.
Chapter 13
The morning comes bright and clear. They have some coffee and then head down the street to see Mandy, but when the door on the copper Craftsman opens after they knock, it is Doug from Bilke's standing there, yawning at them as he opens the screen door.
"Yeah?" he says, looking from one to the other. It appears to Blaine like they may have woken him up. Shame. He doesn't seem very happy.
"Hey Doug, Mandy home?" he says.
"I think she's still asleep," Doug says, scratching the belly of the sleeveless undershirt he has on. What do they call those things? Beaters or something. "You know what time it is?"
"About 8 a.m.," says Todd. "Say, Doug, could you tell her we're out here. It's kind of important."
Doug doesn't look like he is going to move at all. He's hanging in the door looking at Todd now. "Do I know you?" he says to him.
"We go to school together, Doug? You look sort of familiar to me, too."
"What year did you graduate?"
The potential reunion is interrupted by Mandy in sweat pants poking around the side of the big guy. "What's up, fellas? Come on in. No need to stand outside."
So Doug reluctantly swings the door open wide, and Todd and Blaine file into what is actually an elegant living room, on one wall the biggest flat screen Blaine has ever seen, with the giant speakers, and facing it a huge, theatre-seating type couch. The room is a shade of light mustard color that complements the copper outside. A couple of nice Van Gogh prints hang on the walls, one of them that Starry Nights thing. Blaine loves that painting. Facing the light is an easel with an unfinished painting of Mandy on it. Paints and brushes are scattered around. The painting is quite stunning.
"Wow," Todd says. "That is really beautiful work. Who did that?" He has walked over and is standing directly in front of the easel now. "Excellent color choices."
Doug clears his throat, "Just something I'm messing around with." This is so obviously not true. They are all standing in front of the easel now, the four of them, looking at it. It is Mandy from the waist up, but dressed in a maroon dress with a ruffled collar. She is turned slightly in the portrait, not facing the artist, but almost. She is looking at the painter, though, and smiling slightly, a look of amusement on her face.
"Doug," says Todd, "You have some serious talent here, my man. Do you do this for a living?" Todd doesn't know about Doug and the impound place.
"Just noodling around with it," Doug says. He has the hair flowing free down his back this morning, probably sleeps with it that way. It is dark and long. He flips it behind his ear unconsciously and Blaine sees he has a diamond on it today. He is a big man, maybe 6 foot 3 or so.
"You ought to consider it," says Todd. "I know a guy down here handles some artists. You ought to talk to him. You got some other stuff or is this it?"
"I've got a few other things," Doug says. It figures that Todd knows somebody that could represent him.
"This guy could probably set you up for a show, if you've got enough work for one," Todd says. He is still standing in front of the easel, chin in one hand, looking down.
"You guys come in here and get some coffee," hollers Mandy from around the corner, and after a minute more of looking at the painting they all troop into the dining room, which is large also, clear glass table in the center with a chandelier hanging over it. Mandy has put out cups, and brings a large pot out and begins filling them as they settle in. The table is oblong with rounded corners. A couple of simple, fruit-basket paintings hang on the walls, which are white. Blaine is glad. He thinks that mustard color in the other room could get to be a bit much after a while. She brings out a small platter of Danish pastries, and Todd takes one though Blaine declines his, and they all sit, the other three chewing on the pastry, and Blaine sipping the coffee, which is excellent.
After a minute Mandy asks, "How are you feeling, Blaine?"
"Good," he says. "Little stiffness in the neck, but I've been running, exercising, and it's going away. Other than that: great."
"Great," she says. "So, what are you boys up to this morning?"
So Blaine launches into his analysis of the insurance situation, and she is listening intently, munching on the pastry, eyes on him as he talks, wipes her mouth a couple of times with a paper napkin. She had put out napkins and coasters for all and put the coffee urn in the center of the table on a large pad, in case they want more. She is leaning to the side a bit to look over it at Blaine.
"So you're saying the insurance company is going to come after me, no matter what you and I agree to," she says, looking at him, coffee cup in midair.
"That's what I figure," Blaine says. "I'm not a lawyer or anything, but that's what Todd and I were kicking around, and we don't see how it could be any other way. The insurance company may pay for me, but then they're going to come after you and try to recover their losses."
"Makes sense," she says. "What do you think, Doug?"
Doug leans forward on his elbows. They are resting on the glass table and Blaine feels it shift as the big man puts some weight on it.
"Yeah," he says, "That's probably the way it will come down. Those asshole big companies never lose a penny if they can help it. I could have told you that, Mandy, if you'd asked me."
"Just hadn't come up yet," she says, looking at him. "I haven't really known you long enough to give you my entire life story." She looks somewhat pissed because everybody else at the table seems to know how the world works so much better than she does. Blaine hadn't known much either at her age. It was a type of feel-it-out-as-you-go process learning how it all worked. You had these common sense ideas how things would go, and much of the time those didn't pan out. He is thinking that Doug is a bit old for her. He is mid-thirties or so, like Blaine, he bets. None of his business, though. He wouldn't have complained if he could cut a slice of that. He glances over at Todd and would bet that something similar is running through his mind. She really is a stunning woman. Probably has the waves part for her pretty much everywhere she goes, is used to it in the way that beautiful women grow accustomed to that style of treatment. It is the other side of the sexist pig coin, he thinks, the side you don't hear that much about. She's not stupid, not at all. She just hasn't had that much experience handling stuff.
Todd has been quiet, for Todd, but now he leans forward on the table, too, looking at Man
dy. "So how did you know your insurance went out?" he says. "Did they send you a notice?"
She nods.
"What about the card you carry?"
"Misplaced it somewhere," she says.
"Did you try to make a claim on the accident?"
"No," she says. "What would be the point?"
"Did you read your policy?" Todd asks. "Sometimes those notices don't have the correct date on them. The policies usually give you some type of grace period."
"No, I didn't," she says. She gets up and heads over to a small desk tucked into the corner, nice dark wood, and opens the drawer and shuffles around for a minute, comes out with an envelope.
"Here," Todd says, pulling out a pair of reading glasses from his shirt pocket. He is wearing a colorful Hawaiian shirt. "Let me look at it for a minute."
She hands it over, looking a touch relieved, and Todd shuffles through the pages, pausing here and there, Blaine and Doug watching and drinking coffee. "Right here," says Todd, tapping the sheet he has the policy folded to. It is one of those stapled documents with writing on both sides. "This policy should still be in force," he says. "You have a grace period."
"Oh my God," Mandy says, mouth slightly open.
"What you want to do is get on the phone right now," Todd says, "turn in your claim. Did they give you a ticket at the accident scene?"
"Yes," she says. "No insurance. Their computer was down."
"When you go down to take care of it," Todd says, "take a new insurance card and show it to them. They should dismiss it."
"Oh my God," she says again
Chapter 14
So the brothers are walking down the block after making the so longs, and Blaine says "Well, what do you think?" They are ambling right down the center of the street. Not any traffic. Birds are lined up on one set of wires, hundreds of them. Blaine doesn't remember them doing that when he was small. He had shown Todd the pole he hit.
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