I didn’t get far because, standing in my kitchen at six in the evening, wearing nothing but one of Harry’s shirts, pouring batter from a ready-made Bisquick container into a skillet, was a redheaded woman. She was a big girl, probably Harry’s size, and at least five years older than me, just standing therebarefoot with crooked toenails and thick ankles, looking at me likeIwas catchingheroff guard.
Harry came out of the bedroom, whistling, wearing his boxers with that pale, hairy belly jiggling all over the place. He stopped short, looking shocked, and said, “Baby, you’re home! I thought you’d left for good this time.”
I didn’t know what to say. He was standing there, red and puffing, a fish flopped on the shore. It took my breath away how hard it hurt my heart to see Harry with another woman. I guess when you’ve been with somebody such a long time you start to take them for granted. You forget how much you love those big hugs and hearing how beautiful you are and that somebody, anybody on the planet, loves you so much that they want to be better for you. It had taken me until right then, seeing Harry with thiscreature, flipping pancakes in what used to be my kitchen like she owned the damn place, to realize how much I needed him, how much he looked after me in ways that, yeah, weren’t quite like the ways I looked after him, but that still meant something. He soothed those inside parts of me, the parts that were made hard with not ever marrying or having any babies. He made them soft again, like pork fat in the crowder peas.
Big Red, well, you could tell right off she wasn’t too bright. She said, “You want some pancakes? I can make more.”
I wanted to be mad, but, hell, it wasn’t her fault. Not really Harry’s fault either, I guess. I mean, I walked out and that was that. And looking around my dingy kitchen, it still seemed like walking out was for the best.
I finally got my wits back about me and said, “I thought I forgot some stuff, but I can come back later. It’s no big deal.”
I turned, but Harry grabbed my arm. “Babe, wait. Please don’t go.”
I started to pull away.
“I know this looks real bad, but I love you. You’re the only woman for me. Please come back. We can get married. I’ll get a job and quit drinking and quit gambling. Hell, I’ll even try to get us a baby if you want. Just stay. Please.”
His eyes were all teary and glossy, which I guess should’ve been sweet. But instead it made me see him as the sniveling little boy he’d always been. I’d loved him for eight years, but in that moment I knew it was time to move on for good. I needed a man.
Big Red piped up, “Oh yeah, I wasn’t trying to come between nothin’. It was just kinda hot this afternoon, and I didn’t have nothin’ better to do. But I got to get home now anyhow on account of my husband’ll be out here with his shotgun looking for me if I don’t get back soon. He gets all suspicious when I say I’m going to the store and don’t come back for a while.”
Harry looked startled, and I could tell he was realizing that his afternoon fling wasn’t a good idea. “Di, look, babe. Come on. You got to forgive me. Please. There ain’t no man on the planet who’s been as faithful and true to a woman as I have to you. This here was just me thinking you was gone for good and just trying to feel better, is all. It wasn’t nothing to do with me and you. You and me are perfect.”
That made me laugh. “Honey,” I said, patting Harry on his freckly shoulder, “you and me, we’re a lot of things. But perfectis not one of them.” I shook my head, wondering why I had come back here at all. “I was making sure that you had some dinner. That was all. And it looks like Big Red’s got you all taken care of.” I raised my eyebrows.
She padded over from the kitchen, chewing on a pancake, offering me the plate. “Name’s Ronda,” she said, “and I’m real sorry if I caused problems here. But I think there ain’t nothin’ can’t be solved with pancakes between friends.”
With that, I turned before Harry could grab me again and was out the door before I lost my nerve. And where a minute ago, seeing the man I thought I loved with another woman had made me feel jealous, angry, and pained, now it made me see how pathetic Harry was all over again. Still parked in the yard, I opened my wallet to evaluate my options. I had sixty bucks, and I needed gas. I shut off the air and rolled down the three windows that still worked.
I could always pay Charles a visit. Could I make it the seven hours to Asheville on sixty bucks’ worth of gas? Probably not.
But Charles would help. I knew he would. So I called him, feeling grateful that I’d just paid my phone bill the day before. That meant they wouldn’t turn it off for at least a month and a half. I had become a master at juggling bills. Paying the electric enough to keep it on the day before it was turned off; learning that quite often they’d keep the cable on even if you canceled it; paying a dollar a month on medical bills. I wasn’t proud of it. But I was proud that I’d figured out how to survive.
“Hey, Di,” he answered the phone, real friendly. Charles said that after what he’d seen growing up in foster care, he felt realhappy to just be alive. And it showed. He always sounded like he didn’t have a care in the world, even though I knew he did.
I needed to tell him what was going on, that I needed help. But the words wouldn’t come out. “I had that dream again,” I said instead, groaning.
“Oh no,” he said. “The one where the social workers are there to pick us up?”
“Yeah, and Phillip’s rocking in the corner.”
“Oh no.”
He got quiet, and I felt bad for even bringing it up. I wished I hadn’t said anything, so I changed the subject. “How’s Lanna doing?”
“Oh, she’s real good,” he said. “She just got promoted from assistant manager to manager of Kohl’s, and she’s real excited about it. And the boys had good grades this quarter, and Rusty’s enrolling in community college in the fall.”
It made me happy how proud Charles was of his kids. When they were coming up, I got to play with them a lot because Charles and Lanna were still living down here at the beach. It took away some of that sting of not being able to have any kids of my own.
“I’m real proud of him,” I said. “And, hey, I wanted to tell you I’ll have a new address soon.”
111 My Car in Some Parking Lot.
“Oh no,” he said. “No Harry?”
“No Harry.”
“Well,” he said, “he’s a nice guy but, you know, kind of a train wreck.”
