The Kerr Construction Company by Larry Farmer Page A

other things, too. But he’s good to me. I’m sorry, amigo .”
    This put a damper on our ride to the work site. But mostly I thought of Carmen and wore a thousand-mile stare as we rode.
    “Hey, gringo ,” Jose said jokingly as he waved his hand in front of my face. “Come back to earth, man. Hey, we have a baptismal for my son at church on Sunday. I want you to come. Can you bring your camera?”
    “Sure, Jose. I’d love to. It’s only a Polaroid. My camera, I mean.”
    “Polaroid’s great. Do you have any Sunday clothes? It’s okay if you don’t.”
    “I don’t. I do have a shirt with a collar. A blue-jean shirt, though.”
    “I wanted you to be part of it,” Jose said, “but you would need Sunday clothes. Just come. I would be honored.”
    I stared at Jose for a moment to see if he was finished about the baptism. He studied me. He could tell something was up.
    “I met a girl, Jose,” I blurted out finally.
    “I knew it. To see your head in a cloud like this, I knew something happened.”
    “But she’s Mexican.”
    “So’s my wife, gringo .”
    I laughed. “I know. But I’ve got a problem.”
    “She’s already pregnant?”
    “I can’t quit thinking about her.”
    Jose laughed and spoke Spanish to the others. “My thunderstruck amigo here,” he said turning back to me. “Don’t worry about it. You may be white, but you’re a man. Men are disgusting. We’ll go after anything.”
    “That’s not it. She knocked my socks off. What am I going to do? If my mother found out, she would kill me. If my sister found out, she’d slit my throat. And the judge back home would consider it justifiable homicide.”
    More laughter throughout the pickup. “Oh, these gringos are son-of-a-bitches,” Jose howled. “See, my mother is so much more open minded. She welcomed my wife even though she’s Mexican. She even gave her blessing.”
    “I never liked a Mexican girl before,” I said, hoping I sounded like a philosopher. “Anyone that wasn’t white. And she’s not even light-skinned like you. She’s dark. I mean, let’s go all the way. She was married to a white, though. At least that. I don’t know how that matters, actually. I’m just clutching for straws.”
    I paid no mind to the laughter.
    “My sister married a Yankee Catholic,” I continued in my self-pity, “and my father almost disowned her. He apologized later, but…”
    “What, you want to marry her or something, man?” Jose gasped. “I have to meet this girl.”
    “I don’t want to marry her. But I can’t get her off my mind. I wish we could go off to Alaska or something.”
    “Don’t take this personal, Dalhart,” Jose teased. “But you’re such a pendejo .”
    ****
    Carmen watched me walk into the restaurant wearing a serious demeanor. I managed a smile, but it came out forced.
    “Something happen at work?” she asked walking with me as I sought a table. “Dynamite? A fist fight? Did you just get fired?”
    “Naw,” I said before kissing her on the cheek.
    “On the cheek? A kiss on the cheek? Hello, how are you, how’s life? I get a kiss on the cheek? Dalhart, what’s up with you today?”
    “I finally told Jose about you,” I explained.
    “And?”
    “You’re more of me now.”
    “I repeat. And?”
    “What are we going to do, Carmen?”
    “About what?”
    “About us.”
    “Let me think about that,” she bit out. “Fall in love?”
    I scoped her out. She stared darts into me.
    Maybe it was because she was Hispanic, but she reminded me of a female Ricky Ricardo with her comical mannerisms.
    “Let’s see…” The heat of her anger was scorching. “I say in answer to your obnoxious question, the one about what are we going to do now that all your friends finally know about us after we’ve seen each other for a month, is, well, let’s fall in love. And he just stands there. Listen, cabron , you better do some reassuring here real quick, or I’ll kick you out of my mother’s house before you ever