Chapter Seven
Darren
I woke up the next morning to a knock on my front door. It was Carlotta.
“Hey, I brought you these.” She shoved a box of donuts into my arms. “I was thinking it might be nice if we had breakfast together. I know it’s not much, but it’s all I could afford.”
She walked into the house without waiting to be invited, and I followed her into the living room with a growing sense of frustration. It was hard to shake the feeling that she had only come over because she wanted something.
She sat herself down on the couch with her knees brushing up against the glass coffee table. She looked strangely out of place in her blue silk blouse and pencil skirt from Nordstrom, like a supermodel hanging out at a yard sale.
“Well, are you going to eat?” she asked me, gesturing toward the open box of donuts. “You need to eat more. You are too skinny.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Carlotta, the only person you ever care about feeding is yourself. What do you want?”
Carlotta made a weak attempt to look hurt, but the anger shone through. “Yesterday at around lunchtime, Kimmy and I went over to Neiman Marcus. She bought herself an authentic Louis Vuitton designer handbag and I—well, I really wanted one.”
“How was Kimmy able to afford a handbag?”
“She used her boyfriend’s credit card.”
“I bet Rich wasn’t too happy about that.”
“He won’t be when he finds out, but I knew better than to take your money without asking you.”
“No, you just wanted to bribe me with food and then hit me up for money. Honestly, Carlotta, is there any end to your greed?”
“Darren, it’s not like that.” Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a monogrammed silk handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “It’s the job of a boyfriend to provide for his love.”
“Not with handbags!” I shouted. The longer this conversation went on, the more absurd it was getting. It would have been funny if she wasn’t so serious. “How much was the one you wanted, anyway?”
She sniffed and said in a quiet voice, “Only six hundred.”
“When we started going out, were you under the impression that I’m an endless money dispenser? I’m not your ATM; I’m your boyfriend. Just because my family has money doesn’t mean you can hit me up anytime you’re wandering through a store and see a thousand-dollar pair of earrings.”
Carlotta was shuddering and crying now; she had never been very convincing at it. “How dare you, sir! I’ve never once asked you for that much.”
“No, you never asked for much. Just five hundred dollars for a pair of designer sunglasses, three hundred dollars for a purse made of authentic ostrich hide, another four hundred for a hat containing a feather from the same ostrich…”
“When you put it that way, it sounds like a lot.”
“Believe me; it adds up.”
Carlotta shook her head and her legs jiggled. “I thought I knew you, but I guess I was wrong. I thought you were a kind, loving, generous man—”
“Oh, don’t give me that. Generosity means feeding the homeless, not feeding your purse addiction.”
She followed me with her eyes as I rose from my chair and walked over to the front door. “Darren, where are you going?”
I opened the door and flung out one arm. “Here’s the door. You’re welcome to use it.” When she merely went on staring, I added, “I’ve had just about enough of you and this whole discussion. Go find yourself some other man who will tolerate your whims and indulge your worst tendencies.”
Carlotta gaped incredulously, looking both hurt and offended. “What are you saying?”
“Let me put it for you in language you can understand: I’m done! I’m so done! Now get out!”
By now, it had become painfully clear to her that I wasn’t kidding. Grabbing her purse off the table, she walked slowly and with halting steps toward the door.
Once she had reached the porch step, she turned to face me. “Just one more thing before I go—”
“Goodbye, Carlotta. Please don’t come back.” I slammed the door in her face.
It was an oddly satisfying feeling, and the world had a pleasant sheen about it as I drove to work that morning. Lately, I’d been so fixated on my troubles with Carlotta that I hadn’t noticed the song of the cardinals and chickadees as they clustered in the trees along the banks of the Brazos. My delight must have been evident on my face, for Dickie commented on it when I came through the door.
“You doing alright?” he asked me. “You look…happy.”
“Better’n I’ve felt in ages,” I said with a smile.
“I can tell. There’s a glow about you.”
“If I had known breaking up with Carlotta would feel this good, I’d have done it ages ago. Somehow the world feels so big today, so much bigger than this one person.”
“So you finally went through with it? I had a feeling that was coming.”
“I guess it was about time I listened to you for once. It’s an exhilarating feeling, being single again. Maybe I’ll just stay single for a while.”
Dickie smiled and shoved a set of keys over the counter. “You know what would make you feel even better?”
There was no need to ask what that meant. I snatched up the keys with a feeling of elation. “Is the car ready, then?”
“It waits for you.”
It was hard to believe the car was finally ready. All those weeks we had been working on it, I began to think it would never be finished. And now on this fairest and clearest of mornings, I was about to take it out for a test run. “You wanna come with?”
Dickie shook his head firmly. “No, no, no. I just repair the cars, I don’t drive them.”
I laughed and tousled his hair. “Suit yourself!” And, with a feeling of excitement and pleasure such as I had not felt in ages, I dashed out of the shop toward the waiting car.