an incident number. They
made a report.”
“Do you think that’s a big deal? You act like
that makes me some kind of criminal. Wait a minute. What exactly did you tell them?”
“I don’t know that they wrote down
everything.” A classic Cutchins response.
Once sassy, now shrewish. “What might they have written that would come back and bite me on the ass?”
Charlie asked.
She plopped down on the coffee table, took a
deep breath, and put her hands on her knees as if to say, Where
do I begin ?
“Do I have to guess?” he asked. “I heard you
say I knocked you down.”
“Then you already know.”
“I was trying to get by you and you shoved
me. I didn’t knock you down. I brushed past you. I was just trying
to get away from your yelling.”
“I hit the wall hard. You could have hurt
me.” She gave a little pout. “You didn’t care.” The briefest of
pauses, then: “I told them you were mentally ill and violent, all
right? Holding that hammer that way.”
“What way? Come on, cut the shit. You were
the one acting crazy. So why are you out here now, other than to
continue hostilities?”
“I just can’t accept the way things are with
you anymore.”
“Amen to that. As far as I’m concerned, our
marriage is over. Actually, it was over on the Fourth of July.”
“ Right ,” she snarled. “The Confederate
flag ruined our marriage.”
Actually, he thought it had. “Well, I—”
“There was a lot of patching up to do, in
case you didn’t know. Oh, that’s right, you were too busy calling
everybody names to notice.”
“They almost had to patch me up.”
“Pappy did not shoot at you. Quit
claiming he did.”
Pappy, also known as Isaac “Ike” Cutchins,
was Susan’s maternal grandfather and patriarch of her clan.
Although well into his nineties, Pappy kept a loaded shotgun in his
house, and he was still at least semi-adept at using it, as Charlie
had seen firsthand.
Charlie took a deep breath. “You humiliated
me in front of your family, and you were on the wrong side of a
moral issue. You did everything you could to make me feel like shit
about it, even freezing me out in the bedroom. That’s worse than
porn. It’s as bad as an affair, in my book.”
“What book?”
“Cheap shot.”
“You’ve been writing for six years with
nothing to show for it. And it’s not my fault we haven’t slept
together.”
“You want me to leave.”
“Like that’s going to happen,” she said with
a sneer. “Where would you go? You don’t have any family. You tried
to leave last night, and guess what? You’re back .” She sang
the last word.
“You win,” he declared and stood up, holding
up his hands in surrender.
She paced back to the master bedroom. He
staggered into the kitchen to make coffee. Sunshine flooded the
window above the sink, bathing his face in light. He rubbed the
stubble on his chin, feeling weary, but also clever and lucky.
Rarely does a guy get a chance to snap off his life so cleanly,
with a twist.
Contradicting him, Beck appeared in her white
bathrobe, yawning, stumbling, and stretching her arms, her hair
tousled and tangled. “You shouldn’t fight,” she said.
Ben followed in his red pajamas. “’Bout
what?” he asked as he sat down.
“They fought last night and Daddy left and
then he came back but they’re still fighting.”
“Over what?”
“I don’t know. Daddy did something bad.”
Ben was mainly curious. “What bad?”
“It wasn’t anything,” Charlie said.
“They were being stupid and hateful,” Beck
explained.
The kids wolfed down Corn Pops and dashed off
to play with those Christmas toys not yet damaged or destroyed.
Susan returned, still in her robe, and plopped down across from
Charlie as he sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee.
“How many orgasms a day you up to? Sheila
said men only use that stuff to masturbate.”
Charlie didn’t want to be reminded of Susan’s
older sister, whose second husband, Phil, had barely
made a report.”
“Do you think that’s a big deal? You act like
that makes me some kind of criminal. Wait a minute. What exactly did you tell them?”
“I don’t know that they wrote down
everything.” A classic Cutchins response.
Once sassy, now shrewish. “What might they have written that would come back and bite me on the ass?”
Charlie asked.
She plopped down on the coffee table, took a
deep breath, and put her hands on her knees as if to say, Where
do I begin ?
“Do I have to guess?” he asked. “I heard you
say I knocked you down.”
“Then you already know.”
“I was trying to get by you and you shoved
me. I didn’t knock you down. I brushed past you. I was just trying
to get away from your yelling.”
“I hit the wall hard. You could have hurt
me.” She gave a little pout. “You didn’t care.” The briefest of
pauses, then: “I told them you were mentally ill and violent, all
right? Holding that hammer that way.”
“What way? Come on, cut the shit. You were
the one acting crazy. So why are you out here now, other than to
continue hostilities?”
“I just can’t accept the way things are with
you anymore.”
“Amen to that. As far as I’m concerned, our
marriage is over. Actually, it was over on the Fourth of July.”
“ Right ,” she snarled. “The Confederate
flag ruined our marriage.”
Actually, he thought it had. “Well, I—”
“There was a lot of patching up to do, in
case you didn’t know. Oh, that’s right, you were too busy calling
everybody names to notice.”
“They almost had to patch me up.”
“Pappy did not shoot at you. Quit
claiming he did.”
Pappy, also known as Isaac “Ike” Cutchins,
was Susan’s maternal grandfather and patriarch of her clan.
Although well into his nineties, Pappy kept a loaded shotgun in his
house, and he was still at least semi-adept at using it, as Charlie
had seen firsthand.
Charlie took a deep breath. “You humiliated
me in front of your family, and you were on the wrong side of a
moral issue. You did everything you could to make me feel like shit
about it, even freezing me out in the bedroom. That’s worse than
porn. It’s as bad as an affair, in my book.”
“What book?”
“Cheap shot.”
“You’ve been writing for six years with
nothing to show for it. And it’s not my fault we haven’t slept
together.”
“You want me to leave.”
“Like that’s going to happen,” she said with
a sneer. “Where would you go? You don’t have any family. You tried
to leave last night, and guess what? You’re back .” She sang
the last word.
“You win,” he declared and stood up, holding
up his hands in surrender.
She paced back to the master bedroom. He
staggered into the kitchen to make coffee. Sunshine flooded the
window above the sink, bathing his face in light. He rubbed the
stubble on his chin, feeling weary, but also clever and lucky.
Rarely does a guy get a chance to snap off his life so cleanly,
with a twist.
Contradicting him, Beck appeared in her white
bathrobe, yawning, stumbling, and stretching her arms, her hair
tousled and tangled. “You shouldn’t fight,” she said.
Ben followed in his red pajamas. “’Bout
what?” he asked as he sat down.
“They fought last night and Daddy left and
then he came back but they’re still fighting.”
“Over what?”
“I don’t know. Daddy did something bad.”
Ben was mainly curious. “What bad?”
“It wasn’t anything,” Charlie said.
“They were being stupid and hateful,” Beck
explained.
The kids wolfed down Corn Pops and dashed off
to play with those Christmas toys not yet damaged or destroyed.
Susan returned, still in her robe, and plopped down across from
Charlie as he sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee.
“How many orgasms a day you up to? Sheila
said men only use that stuff to masturbate.”
Charlie didn’t want to be reminded of Susan’s
older sister, whose second husband, Phil, had barely
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