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I’m just finishingup at Sandra’s place when her late-model white BMW pulls into the driveway. She emerges from the car in a cream-colored sheath dress and hair that looks like she just came from the hair salon. As always, she looks great, in a high-class society lady kind of way.
“Hello, stranger,” she coos as she approaches. Her eyes travel appreciatively up and down my torso and my bare arms. “My, my, aren’t you dirty.”
“Hey, Sandra. Just about done here.”
“Come inside and have a shower.” She gives me a little smirk. “I just had a new mattress and box spring delivered for the master bedroom. Care to try it out with me?”
My relationship with Sandra up to now could be described asprofessional, with some extracurricular activities. Only today, I’m just not feeling the extracurricular part.
“No can do.” I grab my T-shirt from where it’s been sitting on the back of one of her patio chairs, and pull it on. “I got someplace I need to be.”
“Oh?” She looks momentarily surprised. “Are you sure it can’t wait?”
“Yep. Sorry.”
For a second, her air of casual indifference falters. Then, her smile returns. “I have a feeling there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“Sandra…” I try to keep the irritation out of my voice. I don’t quite succeed. “It’s not a bid deal, okay? I just have some shit to do.”
“Something, or someone?”
“It ain’t that.”
“Oh, yes it is.” She lets out a soft laugh, though her eyes are telling a different story. “Darling, I’ve been around long enough to know when a man’s got another woman on his mind. You? You’ve got another woman on your mind.”
“Okay. I do. But it’s not what you think.”
“You don’t have any idea what I think.” She laughs again. “But for the record? I think it is.”
“Look, Sandra…” I scrub the back of my neck with my hand. “You’re great. And this has been a good time. But yeah, I think this thing should be over.”
“Well, well. She really must have a hold on you.” She clicks her tongue. “I’m impressed.”
I don’t take the bait. “I can give you some referrals if you want to hire someone else.”
Sandra waves me off. “I’ll get over it, don’t worry. As for hiring someone else, do you think I’m going to give up on the view of watching you work from my back bay window?”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Okay, then.”
“I do hope she’s worth it,” she says, peering at me.
“No comment.”
Sandra turns away. As she starts to walk back to her house, she says one more thing to me in parting:
“And if she is, I hope you’re not fool enough to screw it up.”
I’m still thinkingabout Sandra’s last remark as I pull into my Dad’s driveway. His front screen door is hanging off its hinges, wide open. I pull it shut with the hand that’s not holding the bag of groceries I brought. The place smells even worse than usual.I really need to get a cleaning person in here.But I doubt the old man would put up with that. Besides which, he hardly leaves the house. I’m not about to leave a woman in here alone with his sorry ass.
“Hello?” I call, but there’s no response. Setting down the groceries, I put the stuff that will spoil in the fridge and go in search of him. I find him passed out cold in his bedroom, lying in the sweat-stained nest of blankets and sheets on his bed.
“Hey, old man.” I kick his foot with my boot. “Get up.”
He groans and says something indistinguishable.
“I brought you a bottle of whiskey,” I lie, and go back out to the kitchen. A minute or so later, he comes stumbling out.
“Glad to see you can still stand,” I tell him.
