the car, I get the rest of her stuff, takes me a couple of trips, but I’m in shape, right? I can handle it.” He smacked his stomach.
He loves his stomach, thought Maggie.
“I was sweating at the end, though, I’ll admit it. She sees this, so she gets me a glass of water. And while I’m standing in the kitchen, she finally says to me, ‘My grandson, he’s not a bad person. That was just as far as he could take me.’ Can you believe that bullshit?”
“No,” said Maggie. “I cannot believe that bullshit.” Her self-righteousness felt briefly like sobriety. She picked up his glass of water and drank most of it, and when she looked up she realized that everything was suddenly slowing down for her. All the noise around her was so loud that it became quiet. She could now separate everything in her head. Him and her and the rest of them.
“It’s not nice, I know that,” said Robert. “And I said to her, ‘Ann, if you were my grandmother, I wouldn’t leave you sitting in front of a 7-Eleven, no matter how busy I was. It’s not right, it’s not respectful, and you deserve better.’ And then I handed her all the money in my wallet and told her to buy some furniture. At least a table so she has something to eat off of. Jesus.”
All of the noise and useless thoughts that had crowded her mind in her drunken haze of the past few hours, she had pushed through them all, they were all behind her now. She would have left that old woman sitting there; she probably wouldn’t even have seen her in the first place as she walked by, her head in the clouds.
Here she was, staring at someone who had done something she would never do. Robert is the kind of man who takes care of business, a gentleman, a man who not only doesn’t abandon people, but also takes them to a better place. He can teach you the right way.
Oh, my god, thought Maggie. He’s
good
.
“And then what happened?” Maggie’s cheeks were flushed.
“And then I left and went to work. I was almost two hours late. And my boss asked me where I was and I said, ‘I had to drive my grandmother to the doctor,’ and he said, ‘I thought your grandmother was dead,’ and I said, ‘No, the other grandmother,’ and that was that.”
“I want you to take me home,” said Maggie. “Tonight. I mean, do you want to take me home tonight?”
THERE WERE BOXES everywhere, one stacked on another, filling the living room and spilling into the kitchen. Diane sat on the couch and stared at them. It was her favorite time of day because it was quiet. Her husband was still asleep, he wouldn’t get up until just before the movers came; the kids were still nestled in bed, probably having conversations with themselves. It was just Diane and the sum of her material life right now, surrounding her in a sea of cardboard.
There was a shuffle on the steps, heavy, so she knew it was her husband.
“Is there coffee?”
She shot her hand up in the air and wagged her fingers at him. “Five minutes. I just need five more minutes to sit.”
“I’ll join you,” he said, and he sat on the opposite end of the couch. After a moment he said softly, “I liked this house.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she said. “We didn’t have a choice.”
“I just wanted to say it out loud.”
“Fine. You said it. Now drop it.” Diane dug her fingers into her hair and pulled until she could feel her hair tugging at the roots.
“All of this used to be a lot more fun,” he said. “I’m exhausted, Di. I mean it.”
“Oh,
you’re
exhausted.” If she weren’t so tired, she would have slapped him right then. And she would have made it hurt, too.
He stood. She remained seated.
“I’ll make the coffee,” he said.
“Great,” she said.
As he turned to walk toward the kitchen, one of the boxes began to rock, ever so slightly, but they both saw it. And then they heard a muffled cry. Then, a call for help from their youngest child.
“Oh, my god, she’s in the
He loves his stomach, thought Maggie.
“I was sweating at the end, though, I’ll admit it. She sees this, so she gets me a glass of water. And while I’m standing in the kitchen, she finally says to me, ‘My grandson, he’s not a bad person. That was just as far as he could take me.’ Can you believe that bullshit?”
“No,” said Maggie. “I cannot believe that bullshit.” Her self-righteousness felt briefly like sobriety. She picked up his glass of water and drank most of it, and when she looked up she realized that everything was suddenly slowing down for her. All the noise around her was so loud that it became quiet. She could now separate everything in her head. Him and her and the rest of them.
“It’s not nice, I know that,” said Robert. “And I said to her, ‘Ann, if you were my grandmother, I wouldn’t leave you sitting in front of a 7-Eleven, no matter how busy I was. It’s not right, it’s not respectful, and you deserve better.’ And then I handed her all the money in my wallet and told her to buy some furniture. At least a table so she has something to eat off of. Jesus.”
All of the noise and useless thoughts that had crowded her mind in her drunken haze of the past few hours, she had pushed through them all, they were all behind her now. She would have left that old woman sitting there; she probably wouldn’t even have seen her in the first place as she walked by, her head in the clouds.
Here she was, staring at someone who had done something she would never do. Robert is the kind of man who takes care of business, a gentleman, a man who not only doesn’t abandon people, but also takes them to a better place. He can teach you the right way.
Oh, my god, thought Maggie. He’s
good
.
“And then what happened?” Maggie’s cheeks were flushed.
“And then I left and went to work. I was almost two hours late. And my boss asked me where I was and I said, ‘I had to drive my grandmother to the doctor,’ and he said, ‘I thought your grandmother was dead,’ and I said, ‘No, the other grandmother,’ and that was that.”
“I want you to take me home,” said Maggie. “Tonight. I mean, do you want to take me home tonight?”
THERE WERE BOXES everywhere, one stacked on another, filling the living room and spilling into the kitchen. Diane sat on the couch and stared at them. It was her favorite time of day because it was quiet. Her husband was still asleep, he wouldn’t get up until just before the movers came; the kids were still nestled in bed, probably having conversations with themselves. It was just Diane and the sum of her material life right now, surrounding her in a sea of cardboard.
There was a shuffle on the steps, heavy, so she knew it was her husband.
“Is there coffee?”
She shot her hand up in the air and wagged her fingers at him. “Five minutes. I just need five more minutes to sit.”
“I’ll join you,” he said, and he sat on the opposite end of the couch. After a moment he said softly, “I liked this house.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she said. “We didn’t have a choice.”
“I just wanted to say it out loud.”
“Fine. You said it. Now drop it.” Diane dug her fingers into her hair and pulled until she could feel her hair tugging at the roots.
“All of this used to be a lot more fun,” he said. “I’m exhausted, Di. I mean it.”
“Oh,
you’re
exhausted.” If she weren’t so tired, she would have slapped him right then. And she would have made it hurt, too.
He stood. She remained seated.
“I’ll make the coffee,” he said.
“Great,” she said.
As he turned to walk toward the kitchen, one of the boxes began to rock, ever so slightly, but they both saw it. And then they heard a muffled cry. Then, a call for help from their youngest child.
“Oh, my god, she’s in the
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