you don’t say that to my husband.” Marcy swallowed hard.
“Do you know what I say to any woman’s husband? ‘If you don’t treat her right, some other man will. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean you can relax. A woman’s got to be won over each and every day.’” He smiled from ear to ear.
“Good Lord,” Marcy whispered.
“I think I’ll help Boom,” Bitsy brightly said as she skipped past her friend.
Bitsy wiped the shine from BoomBoom’s nose, adding a dab of lipstick to her mouth.
Denny clapped his hands, which disturbed Hercules, who let out a bellow. “Let’s go.”
Harry, arms crossed, watched Charlie stoop down, Hercules on one side and BoomBoom on the other.
“Harry, why don’t you take away this bucket?” BoomBoom pointed at the bucket.
“You crippled?” Harry turned on her heel, striding to her old Ford truck. “
Adios.
”
“You’re not going to kiss me good-bye?” Charlie called out. He puckered his lips.
“I wouldn’t kiss you if you were the last man on earth,” Harry said, as Susan’s jaw nearly dropped to her chest.
“Hey, I love you, too.”
“Charlie, is this a command performance?” Marcy asked, voice wavering.
He winked at her, then called after Harry, “I understand you called me a body part at the reunion meeting.”
“I should have called you an arrogant, empty-headed, vainglorious idiot. ‘Asshole’ showed a lack of imagination.” She smiled a big fake smile, her head throbbing.
“You’ve been divorced too-o-o long,” he said in a singsong voice.
She stopped in her tracks. Fair’s face froze. Susan covered her eyes, peeking out through her fingers. BoomBoom squared her shoulders, ready for the worst.
“You know what, Charlie? My claim to fame is that I’m one of seven women in Albemarle County who haven’t gone to bed with you.”
“There’s still time.” He laughed as Marcy Wiggins’ face registered dismay.
“You’ll die before I do.” Harry turned, heading back to the truck.
This icy pronouncement caught everyone off guard. Charlie laughed nervously. Dennis took over, rearranging the principals except for Hercules, who was firmly planted close to the grain.
Then Charlie yelled after her, “I knew you sent that letter about me not growing old.”
“Dream on.” Harry kept walking. “I wouldn’t waste the postage.”
“Susan, you aren’t going, too?” BoomBoom’s voice, drenched in irritation, cut through Hercules’ bellow as he cried for his grain bucket. Susan left with Harry.
Susan leaned over to Harry as they walked away. “You got a wild hair or what?” she said,
sotto voce.
“I don’t really know. Just know I can’t take any more.” Harry rubbed her temples. “Susan, I don’t know what’s happening to me. I have no patience anymore. None. And I’m sick and tired of beating around the bush. Hell with it.”
“M-m-m.”
“I don’t want to be rude but I’m fresh out of tolerance for the fools of this life.”
“Your poor mother will be spinning in her grave. All the years of cotillion, the Sunday teas.”
Harry put her hand on the chrome door handle of the 1978 truck. “Here’s what I don’t get: where is the line between good manners and supporting people in their bullshit? I’m not putting up with Charlie for one more minute.” She opened the door but didn’t climb inside. “I’ve turned a corner. I’m not wearing that social face anymore. Too much time. Too much suppressed anger. If people are going to like me they can like me as I am. Treat me right and I’ll treat you right.”
“Within reason.”
“Well . . . yes.” Harry reluctantly conceded.
Susan breathed in the moist air. The heat had finally returned and with it the flies. “I know exactly how you feel. I’m not brave enough to act on it yet.”
“Of course you are.”
“No. I have a husband with a good career and two teenagers. When the last one graduates from college—five more years—” She
“Do you know what I say to any woman’s husband? ‘If you don’t treat her right, some other man will. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean you can relax. A woman’s got to be won over each and every day.’” He smiled from ear to ear.
“Good Lord,” Marcy whispered.
“I think I’ll help Boom,” Bitsy brightly said as she skipped past her friend.
Bitsy wiped the shine from BoomBoom’s nose, adding a dab of lipstick to her mouth.
Denny clapped his hands, which disturbed Hercules, who let out a bellow. “Let’s go.”
Harry, arms crossed, watched Charlie stoop down, Hercules on one side and BoomBoom on the other.
“Harry, why don’t you take away this bucket?” BoomBoom pointed at the bucket.
“You crippled?” Harry turned on her heel, striding to her old Ford truck. “
Adios.
”
“You’re not going to kiss me good-bye?” Charlie called out. He puckered his lips.
“I wouldn’t kiss you if you were the last man on earth,” Harry said, as Susan’s jaw nearly dropped to her chest.
“Hey, I love you, too.”
“Charlie, is this a command performance?” Marcy asked, voice wavering.
He winked at her, then called after Harry, “I understand you called me a body part at the reunion meeting.”
“I should have called you an arrogant, empty-headed, vainglorious idiot. ‘Asshole’ showed a lack of imagination.” She smiled a big fake smile, her head throbbing.
“You’ve been divorced too-o-o long,” he said in a singsong voice.
She stopped in her tracks. Fair’s face froze. Susan covered her eyes, peeking out through her fingers. BoomBoom squared her shoulders, ready for the worst.
“You know what, Charlie? My claim to fame is that I’m one of seven women in Albemarle County who haven’t gone to bed with you.”
“There’s still time.” He laughed as Marcy Wiggins’ face registered dismay.
“You’ll die before I do.” Harry turned, heading back to the truck.
This icy pronouncement caught everyone off guard. Charlie laughed nervously. Dennis took over, rearranging the principals except for Hercules, who was firmly planted close to the grain.
Then Charlie yelled after her, “I knew you sent that letter about me not growing old.”
“Dream on.” Harry kept walking. “I wouldn’t waste the postage.”
“Susan, you aren’t going, too?” BoomBoom’s voice, drenched in irritation, cut through Hercules’ bellow as he cried for his grain bucket. Susan left with Harry.
Susan leaned over to Harry as they walked away. “You got a wild hair or what?” she said,
sotto voce.
“I don’t really know. Just know I can’t take any more.” Harry rubbed her temples. “Susan, I don’t know what’s happening to me. I have no patience anymore. None. And I’m sick and tired of beating around the bush. Hell with it.”
“M-m-m.”
“I don’t want to be rude but I’m fresh out of tolerance for the fools of this life.”
“Your poor mother will be spinning in her grave. All the years of cotillion, the Sunday teas.”
Harry put her hand on the chrome door handle of the 1978 truck. “Here’s what I don’t get: where is the line between good manners and supporting people in their bullshit? I’m not putting up with Charlie for one more minute.” She opened the door but didn’t climb inside. “I’ve turned a corner. I’m not wearing that social face anymore. Too much time. Too much suppressed anger. If people are going to like me they can like me as I am. Treat me right and I’ll treat you right.”
“Within reason.”
“Well . . . yes.” Harry reluctantly conceded.
Susan breathed in the moist air. The heat had finally returned and with it the flies. “I know exactly how you feel. I’m not brave enough to act on it yet.”
“Of course you are.”
“No. I have a husband with a good career and two teenagers. When the last one graduates from college—five more years—” She
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