Getting to Happy (25 page)

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a gambling problem now, too?”

“Of course not.”

“Have you moved to Vegas or what?”

“Not yet. I decided to wait awhile.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Well, business has been extremely slow. Materials are going up. Gas prices affect everything, Savannah. I’ve had to lay off a few workers, and there’s only so much Enrique and Jose and I can do between us.”

“You mind telling me what you need it for?”

“I’m behind on a few bills.”

“And this is my problem?”

“Of course it isn’t. If it wasn’t serious, Savannah, you know I wouldn’t be asking you—under the circumstances.”

“Why can’t you borrow it from your girlfriend?”

“She doesn’t have it like that.”

“What makes you so sure I have an extra three grand to lend you, or anybody for that matter?”

“Savannah, do you know who you’re talking to?”

“I know you were the man I was married to for ten years, you mean him?”

“That’s me. I thought we agreed to be friendly.”

“Lending money to your ex-husband on the day he becomes your ex—is that how you measure friendliness?”

“No.”

“I never said I wanted to be your BFF. Be glad I don’t hate your guts.”

“I am glad.”

“To be quite honest, I think you have a lot of fucking nerve putting me on the spot like this, considering today is the day we’re no longer husband and wife and I did you a favor by even waiting to make it official. I haven’t heard a peep out of you for months and you still want something from me.”

“My attorney suggested I lie low to give you a chance to get used to your new life.”

“What new life?”

“The one without me in it.”

If only he knew. “Speaking of which, how’s yours?”

“I’m adjusting.”

“So if I agreed to do this, Isaac, how would I get it to you?”

“Could you leave a check in the mailbox?”

“You mean at my house?”

“How many mailboxes do you have these days?”

“The same old one.”

“If it’s a problem . . . wait, have you got somebody living with you already?”

“Please, Isaac. It’s been six months, but unlike you I like to wait until I finish one thing before I start something else.”

“Ouch. Even though it’s not the way you think it is.”

“Whatever. Look, it’s all water under the bridge, and you know good and well that whatever her name is wasn’t the reason we parted company.”

“No, she wasn’t. So, how do you want to do this?”

“First tell me how you intend to pay me back.”

“You can deduct it from the settlement.”

“The check is going directly to you. You should be getting it fairly soon now. Can I trust you to pay me back when you get it?”

“Of course you can. And thank you, Savannah. You’re a lifesaver.”

I can’t believe he just said that. But he did.

“I’ll mail it. Are you still living at your mama’s?”

“No, but that’d be the best place to send it. If you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind, Isaac? Is there anything else I can do to help you? Are you sure this is enough? How about a million dollars? Anyway, I hope it solves your problem.”

“It will definitely help. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

I put the phone in my purse. I do not for the life of me understand why I agreed to lend Isaac any amount of money. We haven’t been divorced twenty-four hours and he’s still able to talk me into doing something I don’t want to do. As usual, he caught me off guard, and here I am in the grocery store, at the checkout, holding up the line even though there’s nobody behind me, listening to my newly minted ex-husband ask me if he can borrow money so he can probably spend it on his new woman. But what the fuck. It could be something he’s too embarrassed about. Maybe I’m the only one he could call. Let’s just see if he pays me back after he gets that check.

I finish emptying everything from my cart onto the conveyer. “Did you find everything you were looking for?” Mary asks. She is probably my age. And looks tired. She smokes a lot. I can smell it. Her skin looks rough. Her hair could stand to be shampooed and deep conditioned. A good cut would help. There is no ring on her left finger and it doesn’t look like she’s ever worn one. Mary looks like she lives alone. I imagine she has a house full of cats because there is a film of white hair all over her olive green sweater.

I swipe my debit card. “I’m sorry, what did you just ask me?”

“Did you find everything you were looking for, Mrs. Jackson?” she asks when my name pops up on her screen.

“It’s Ms.,” I say politely. “As a matter of fact, I didn’t. What aisle are good husbands on, Mary?”

She chuckles. “I wish I knew, honey. I wish I knew.”

The First One’s Free

I can’t believe it. I’m actually going on a real date. With Dark Angel. Finally. Ten long hours from now. Actually, we’re just having a cappuccino at a Starbucks not far from my house, which of course he doesn’t know. It still feels like a date. I actually took the day off so I could make sure I look as snazzy as possible. I want his mouth to water when he sees me in person, since he liked my pictures so much. Today is all about preparation. I already bought something jazzy to wear but I might change my mind at the last minute. I’m getting a new set of acrylics and you can never have too many pedicures. I’m also going over to Oasis to let Joseph tighten up my weave, since baby birds might be nesting on the crown of my head for all I know.

Right now, I’m giving myself a rejuvenating clay facial and whitening my teeth with those strips. I think I need to get waxed, too. Romeo and Juliet just ran out of here because the blue mask scares them. Sparrow just ran downstairs to back my car out of the garage so I can get out before the exterminators get here. They have to park their truck in the driveway in order to pull the hose around the back of the house. Then she’ll drive herself to school since, by the grace of God, she finally managed to get her driver’s license. She also came to her senses. Instead of that Prius, she decided on a black Honda Civic hybrid—which is pretty hard to say.

Sparrow isn’t exactly psyched about my date with Dark Angel. She is excited I’m finally meeting him so I can hurry up and put him on the Never in This Lifetime list and move on to someone who doesn’t write bad poetry. I pay her no mind. In fact, when she realized I was serious about not having a birthday party, she decided not to have one, too. I told her she could have a few friends over if she wanted to, but she just said, “It was only a passing thought, Mom. No big deal. I’ll live.” Well, we both did.

Oh hell, here we go again: hot flash #I,000! The clay was just starting to get hard! Shit shit shit. Broiling from the inside out with no warning off and on all day and night had gotten on my nerves so bad I finally begged my doctor for some hormones. I just started taking them a few days ago but it would sure be nice if they kicked in sometime in the next few minutes. I want my memory back. I need help unscrambling some of the puzzles that aren’t really puzzles. I do not for the life of me understand why God had to make menopause so complicated. I mean, what was the point of dragging it out and making you feel like a mental case. Why couldn’t He or She have just picked a date for your period to stop and then let us move on with our lives? As if bleeding once a month for thirty-five years wasn’t bad enough.

My first stop this morning is the dentist. I hope I can sit in that chair for forty-five minutes without squirming. It feels like I’m getting ready for my prom or something instead of just having a cappuccino. I’m getting impressions made for those new invisible braces, since my teeth have started moving because I’m getting old and I’ll be damned if I’m going to die with spaces between my teeth. Of course, I don’t feel like going today but he charges a fifty-dollar cancellation fee if I don’t give him twenty-four hours notice.

I feel a little cooler as I walk over to the window hoping the mask can now finish hardening. I’m tempted to stick my head in the refrigerator, but Romeo and Juliet would freak out for sure. I can tell by the cluster of dark clouds that the monsoon season is shifting into third gear. I love the heavy winds. The dust storms. The loud thunder. The yellow and violet lightning. But mostly the rain. I love the way it smells, the sound it makes pounding on the clay roof and how it gushes out of the gutters like narrow waterfalls. Although it can sometimes be dangerous if you’re driving near a wash or a gully, I love the way the flooding forces me and Sparrow to stay inside. We often curl up on the sofa, get a pizza—out of the freezer, since delivery is often out of the question—and watch stupid movies: a romantic comedy and we both cry, or a horror movie and we both scream while munching on microwave popcorn. She most likely will have an Arizona iced tea and I usually nurse a mojito. Or two.

I hear my cell phone ringing. I hope it’s not Norman calling from work. He’s such a worrywart. We did get our bonuses last month like we always do, which is how I was able to pay cash for Sparrow’s new ride. Everybody knows corporate does not like to give away free money if they don’t have to. I pull the strips off and wipe my teeth with my fingertips. “Hello,” I say with my mouth half closed.

“Good morning, Robin, it’s me. Fernando.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong.”

“Then why are you calling me at home on my cell?” I grab a tissue and wipe all of the foamy stuff off my teeth so I won’t have to swallow it.

“Well, I meant to call you last night, but I didn’t get a chance. I was wondering, since things have finally slowed down, if it would be possible for me to take a half day.”

“And what time would that be, Fernando?”

“About eleven.”

“That’s not a half day. It’s almost eight o’clock right now. What’s going on?”

“Well, my cousin Lupe is getting out of prison today at eleven-thirty and I offered to pick him up. He wants me to take him to play a round of golf.”

I just look at the phone. I know damn well I couldn’t possibly have heard him right. “Did you just say he wants to go play golf?”

“I did.”

“And how long has Lupe been in prison?”

“Just two years. A few too many DUIs.”

“So, did they have a driving range at the prison he was in or something?”

“No, that’s funny, Robin.”

“Well, this might be even funnier. If you think taking your ex-convict of a cousin golfing as a welcome-home gift is a good reason to ask your boss for time off—and on the same day, no less—then you have lost your damn mind, Fernando. Maybe you should consider taking—what’s his name again?”

“Lupe.”

“Maybe you should think about taking Lupe to play a few holes of miniature golf. But make his first stop the employment office, which is where you might be headed if you keep this up, Fernando. I mean, come on. Every other week it’s something different with you.”

“It was just a thought. I’m cool.”

It was just a thought. My face is cracking. A few shards of blue clay fall on my beige duvet. I try to pick them up but they smear. Damnit. Before I can ask if there’s anything else, he says, “I know it sounds ridiculous. And I agree. It’s just that Lupe hasn’t been around family so I was just trying to be nice. Maybe I can get my brother to pick him up. I’ll take him golfing tomorrow morning. I thought it would be fun.”

“Fun. Bye, Fernando. And do me a favor: don’t ever call me on my cell phone to ask me some stupid shit like this, clear?”

“
Comprendo.
Have a nice weekend, Robin. See you on Monday.”

Now, here comes Bernie. I’d left her a message earlier. But I need to hurry up and get this stuff off my face before my skin turns blue. “Okay, so don’t make me laugh,” I say to her.

“Why would I try to make you laugh?”

“I’ve got a mask on that’s hard and if I laugh it’ll crack.”

“So you’re finally going on a date with Hark Angel after a hundred years of online dating, huh?”

I want to laugh but I don’t. I feel myself smiling, which I immediately stop doing. “His name is Dark Angel, not Hark.”

“Whatever. I’m just suspicious of men who look for women online, and especially black ones. Anyway, explain to me what it is you want me to do?”

“Okay. My date is at six. From everything I’ve read, sometimes the guy can turn out to be a total loser or nothing like you thought, so if I want to bail without being rude I suddenly have an emergency.”

“I’m the emergency?”

“Well, first of all, I’ve already asked Savannah.”

“So you anticipate having two emergencies?”

“No! Her call would come fifteen minutes after he gets there to see if it starts out okay. I’d say something that would let her know I’m not disappointed. Yet.”

“Okay. And?”

“And then say about a half hour later you call and if I say something like ‘Oh, really? I’m really sorry to hear that. Sure I will. I’ll get there as soon as I can.’ That’s how you’ll know he’s a total dud.”

“Okay. Consider it done. What are you wearing?”

“Why?”

“Just remember you’re not auditioning to be a Vegas dancer, so tone it down for everybody’s sake. Call me if anything changes. Bye. And good luck. I swear to God, what some of us will do to get laid.”

“I’m looking for love not sex, Bernie, so shut up!”

“And you think you can find it at Starbucks?”

I hang up and wash this stuff off my face. I hear Sparrow run up the stairs and down the hallway and stop outside my door.

“Mom,” she says, like she’s out of breath. “We have a problem.”

I grab a hand towel. “What kind of problem?”

“Your car ran through the garage wall.”

“The car did what?”

“Okay, so this is what happened. When I went to put the car in reverse I accidentally put it in drive and I looked over my shoulder like I’m supposed to but when I put my foot on the accelerator the car went forward instead of backward.”

“And you’re serious?”

She nods. She looks fine. Mostly shaken up. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Mom. But your car isn’t. And the garage got a little damaged, too.”

“Come over here and look at me.” I cup her face in my palms. “Did you bump your head or hurt anything on your body?”