Down and Out

"I do. The other one had a different daddy. He's white, and he's in the wind. We, well, we weren't married. He paid the bills when Ripley was sent up, got me preggers, and Bernice age one. One day he just took off with some teeny bopper without so much as a by you leave. His name was Gordon Manning." I nodded.

"And your job now, you haven't said," I said.

"No, no job, I'm on welfare, Ritchie. So, if you need money you've come to the wrong place," she said, smiling. She knew I didn't need her money; well, I hope she did.

"No, dear heart, I don't need any money. I am employed," I said. "We haven't talked about finances or jobs or anything like that so far, but tonight we are going to."

"Whatever," she said.

"Win, it would seem to be obvious, but can I ask. Do you still have any feeling of love for either of the babies'daddies?" I said. She gave me a strange look.

"No, none at all. The one was cruel and evil the other abandoned us. So no, none," she said. I sagged back in my chair.

"Win, I make enough to help you out, and if you will allow; I'm going to do just that," I said. She smiled, it was a condescending smile.

"I can't let you do that," she said. "I'm sure you're doing fine, but handling two households is a lot. Especially when the other household includes three growing babies.

"And, Ritchie I have some very big debts and a loan—well, a bad loan," she said.

My turn to smile. "I can afford it, and them too, and I just need you to allow me the chance to be your knight in shining armor. Okay?" I said. "And what is this bad loan if I may ask?" She didn't want to answer me.

"I needed to take the baby Melba to the doctors, asthma. I got a loan from a guy, but the interest is too great, and the bill keeps getting bigger and bigger." My eyes narrowed.

"A loan shark?" I said. She nodded.

"Yes," she said.

"How much?" I said.

"Ritchie, it's all right. I will pay it somehow. I can't ask you to take on something that large," she said.

"Yeah, well, I am," I said. "So how much? Please," I said.

"It was five thousand, but it's almost ten now," she said.

"When is it due? The first," she said.

"And, if you don't pay it back?" I said. "If you shine the guy on?" She looked away.

"I was going to take out a second mortgage," she said. "There's enough equity to pay him off."

I didn't say that that's what she should have done in the first place, not be messing with gangsters. But, I kept my mouth shut.

What I didn't want to do at that moment was to reveal to her my real financial situation. So I dodged the bullet, by ducking. "I have a friend, a banker—which I really did—who'll make you the loan real cheap and real fast. How would that be?" I said. "I may be boring, but I am an accountant and I do know a few people." I was smiling. And, so was she, but her smile was tentative.

What I had done, and that on purpose, was to leave her with the impression that I was just a bit above average income guy without actually saying such. It's where I wanted to leave things for the present.

"Anything else, any other problems," I said.

"No, no other problems," she said. "Except maybe how to thank you for still caring about me. And, I will take you up on the bank loan; that would be a godsend."

"I will always care about you, dear heart, no matter what. All I ask is that you give me a chance to show you how much," I said. She came to me and kissed me harder than I have ever been kissed even by her.

I did arrange the loan, and no her credit would not even have been strong enough to get it herself, but mine was. As for the mortgage, that's almost never a good idea for someone in her situation. It would have been her last refuge, and understanding her situation, as I now did, she'd have been back in the hole anyway in a short time—it was no win for her going down that road. At any rate, she had me now, so she was safe. Safer than she knew.

******

Mister Ripley was history, and a friend of mine on the force was alerted to him. I figured he'd screw up sooner or later and get nailed. Well, that was the hope. I hated men who threatened women; well, it's who I am.

Things went along swimmingly for a few months. She and I didn't have anything formal worked out, but we were getting it on pretty regular, usually once a week after our dates. My long dead psyche was brought back to life, and then it wasn't.

We had planned to go dining and dancing on Friday night. I was taking her to a special place I knew of up by the lake. The view was great up there, the food good, and the music and dancing of the mellow variety.

I showed up at her place at 7:00, the appointed time. She wasn't home. I called her cell; it was off. I prayed nothing had happened to her. I'd check on her later, and yes, I was holding my breath.

No one to go out with, but dressed for a night out, I hit the nearest bar, a country western sawdust joint. I'd been there about half an hour when they came in. She was dressed nicely. He was overdressed and looked like the prototype of the drugstore cowboy: sequins and tassels on his shirt—and pants! She'd clearly stood me up, and for a serious loser at that; well, that was the way I looked at things.

My pride actually took a hit with this guy being her choice for the evening. His outfit though bespoke something else: he had some bucks. His boots were genuine snakeskin, probably in the neighborhood of $1,000 worth. I watched as he secured a table and came up to the bar to order. I smiled at him; he smiled back. He ordered two Heinekens. Goin' all out for his woman of the evening I could see.

He took his beers back to their table. I watched as he did so. When he got there, he kinda toasted me, raising his bottle in my direction and smiled. It was then that she saw me. She paled. I raised my manhattan to him and smiled back, took a sip, set the glass down, and went to pay and leave.

She didn't come after me and she didn't immediately call me or text me or anything. I went home to cry in my beer over my life and especially my boring personality. I figured she was after the guy to maybe get some security. Why not me? Didn't have a clue. Maybe she figured the guy had more bucks than I did.

I chalked it up to experience and decided to forget her, finally, and get on with my life. Well, I was hurt—okay!

I really didn't cotton to being stood up; it was a kind of betrayal the way I saw it. Maybe a minor one, but a betrayal nonetheless. If we hadn't had a date, I would have been a little disappointed, but not as destroyed as was in fact the case.

I finally got a visit a week later at the shop; she had the address. She still hadn't seen where I really lived. The room in the back had a cot, a small bathroom, and a mini-kitchen. I used it a lot during tax season. And, I had been using it more since going out with Winnie, and now that all worked for me.

******

It was early evening; I had just gotten done with some paperwork. The knock was light but hearable.

"Winnie!" I said. I was genuinely surprised as I answered the door.

"Persona no grata or can I come in," she said. I stared at her for a moment deciding. I left the door open and went back inside. I was still putting away papers I'd been going over. She took a seat on the rattan bench my customers used.

"Whaddya need, Win," I said. She sighed.

"So this is where you live—and work?" she said. It was clear she was not impressed with my "apparent" economic state.

"Yes," I said. Well, it was only a little lie. I did stay at the shop sometimes, kinda often of late actually.

"I'm here to apologize," she said. "I stood you up. I was a skunk. I am very sorry for doing that to you."

"That it?" I said.

"No. I'd like to take you to dinner," she said. I gave her a look that must have spelled suspicion.

"It won't happen again," she said.

"Why do you want to go out with me. Seems you already have a replacement for me," I said.

"Hardly, and certainly not with that guy," she said.

"You didn't get along with your cowboy?" I said, kinda sarcastically.

"Cowboy! Hell no, he's no cowboy; he's a building contractor. Makes some good bucks, but that's where it ends with him. Hell, he was so boring he made you look like Jason Bourne," she said. The endless hits to my ego were taking a toll, but she seemed to realize it this time and regrouped.

"I mean the old you," she said. "You're not so bad anymore. Really." Another qualified shot to my ego, but, at least qualified.

"Hmm, well thank you for that. I think," I said.

"It's true, Rich, really," she said. I shrugged.

"So, whaddya say?" she said.

"About what?" I said.

"Dinner? Tonight," she said.

"It's Tuesday," I said.

"Yes, but you're the boss here aren't you?" she said. I nodded.

"Okay, I guess," I said. My lack of enthusiasm seemed to get to her some. Well, it should have.

******

We dined and danced and went to the park for a late night stroll. "What is it you're looking for, Win? I mean really?" I said, as we strolled along. She gave me a look.

"I mean do I have a chance with you? You must have figured out by now that I want you back. But, tell me truly, am I spinning my wheels? Am I wasting my time with you?" I said. Now, she smiled.

"I still have feelings for you, Ritchie. I do. But . . . " she said.

"But, what? I love you, Win. I will take care of you. You and the babies. I'm employed. I do okay economically. You say I'm not as boring as I used to be. So what's the hang up?" I said.

"I don't know, Ritchie. I guess I just want to make sure that I don't blow it like I always seem to be doing.

"The other night with the cowboy, Barry Caldwell, I was with him to see if he and I would match up. He makes a lot of money. Well, and well, I'm looking out for my babies now, not just me. I want them to have what I have so far not been able to give them.

"You're a good guy, Richard. The best, really. But, I know what you make. We lived together for five years. I've seen where you live. Oh, I'm sure you're doing okay now, overall. And I have give you credit; I know how hard you work. But, Ritchie, I'm at a place in my life today where I don't want to struggle anymore. If I had the money, I guess, I'd marry you in a New York minute. But, I'm flat broke. Don't have two nickels to rub together.

"I don't want to struggle anymore, Ritchie, and I don't want to saddle you with responsibilities that are not of your making. I guess what I'm saying is that I want to wait and see before taking the plunge again. Would that be all right with you, Rich?" she said. "I mean I want to be fair to you, and frankly to myself too."

"Okay, Win. I understand. Just please, don't stand me up again, okay," I said. She gave out a small laugh.

"I won't, big guy. I was an asshole their other night. It won't happen again."

And for six months things went very well. We dated, we fucked, we got close again. And, I was thinking of actually popping the question. But then it happened—again!

******

This time she called to cancel; that is she didn't just not show up. I guess one could say that things were improving. Said she wasn't feeling well, and would I mind if we postponed to the following weekend, she said. I probably sounded a little grumpy, but that was because I knew she was lying. If she knew me from long ago, well, I could say the same thing about her.

By 6:00, I was parked a ways down the street where I could see her front door. A very nice Lexus pulled up in front at 6:25. She came out, hopped in, and she and whoever drove off. I went home.

I didn't call her during the week, and she didn't call me until Thursday. I didn't take the call. And, I didn't show up Friday night, the night of our scheduled, actually rescheduled, date.

I had been paying her rent and utilities since we'd gotten back to dating each other, even after our mini-breakup, but now I stopped. Her lover or lovers could do the paying now. If she didn't respect me enough to keep her promises, then I had no interest in helping her out. Well, I did, but I was simply not going to be used.

I was more or less surprised that I didn't hear from her again for three full months, not even a text message. It was clear to me that she'd deduced that I knew what she'd done and was afraid to talk to me. But three months later, after, as I'm sure was the case, she thought I'd had enough time to cool off, she showed up again. It was a Sunday morning, 9:00AM, and once again I'd been staying at the office.

"Hi Ritchie," she said. "Still mad at me?"

"Yes," I said, and slammed the door in her face. She must have been waiting. She had to have been still on the porch, deciding I guess, about the wisdom of making a second go at me. Some five minutes lapsed before she rang the doorbell again.

"I told you, yes I'm still mad at you, Winnie. Now please leave. Okay."

"Please, Ritchie. May I come in for a few minutes?" she said.

Those cow eyes she attacked me with got her in. I was still mad at her for how she'd done me, but I just couldn't resist talking to her.

"Whaddya want, Win. You did me wrong, again, and I feel like a fool having let you get away with it the first time. Who was it by the way, the contractor?" I said. She looked away.

"Yes," she whispered. "He, well he made me promises. But, he broke them all," she said.

"Kinda like you?" I said, and that sarcastically.

"I deserved that," she said. "I love you Rich. I realized that after Harry, the contractor, screwed me over. Money isn't everything. I wish I had some, but it isn't everything. I realize that now," she said. "Forgive me?" she said.

God help me, she looked so helpless in that moment that I did forgive her. And, I hated my weakness for doing so. But weakness or not I could not hate the woman, and I wanted to hate her! She was an idiot and that was all there was to it. But, no, I loved her too much to not forgive her, and so I did.

My forgiveness led to several more than interesting consequences.

One, I got to see more of the babies as time went on and they were adorable. I hadn't had a chance to see all that much of them previously because I lived across town and pretty much the only times I was at her place was to take her out. But now I moved in on the weekends: her idea: it was bigger than my little mini-apartment at the office as she pointedly noted. And, it would allow me to be mnore4 confident in her faithfulness. Oh, and I should mention that in the almost a year since that rainy night; she had not yet been to my real place; but hell, I hadn't seen all that much of it either; and now it was tax season.

And then there was the second thing, she inherited a bit of money; well, if a hundred grand could be considered a mere bit. This however, her money, I did not know about for some little time.

******

Our dates resumed, the sex resumed, and then she was gone, again, without warning or phone call or note on the door jamb, none of it. And, my anger resumed. And then she returned, as she thought, to resume our relationship!

"Honey, honey! I've got news!" she said. My look, as I answered the door that Tuesday morning—at 6:00 fucking AM—two weeks later, must have cued her to the undeniable fact that I was more than a little pissed.

"Oops! You're pissed, huh?" she said.

"Mightily," I said. "You can leave now never to return," and I slammed the door in her face. Didn't Yogi Berra have something to say about situations like this one?

There was no five minute "thinking about it delay" this time. She was ringing the bell and pounding on the door with gusto and grim and relentless determination before I'd gotten six feet from it. I opened it again, and that with a grim determination of my own. I was not sitting still for her having found yet another "it just happened cock" to satisfy her need for that which did not bore her. I was not.

But just as I opened the door and was about to open my mouth she rushed in and commanded me to sit!

"Sit!"

"What are you doing! I just told you to pound pavement! Go!" I said.

"No! And shut the fuck up. My grandma died," she said. She'd stopped me.

"Grandma Williams?" I said.

"No, my great grandma Dorsey, my mom's side; she was ninety-six. I'd never even met her except these past two weeks: she lived in Virginia. I was there when she died," she said.

"So you're saying you weren't out fucking another drugstore cowboy?" I said. She gave me a look that spelled volumes.

"Oh! No! No-no-no-no-no," she said.

"You should have called me, something," I said. Now she sat down.

"I didn't?" she said. It was like she didn't realize that she hadn't called me. Now I was pissed all over again.

"I didn't realize I hadn't called you. But—I didn't did I," she said, almost to herself. "Oh, Richard, I feel so bad!"

"Uh-huh," I said. "It's clear to me Win, that I am just not that important to you. You really do need to find someone else. Someone maybe a bit less boring, and less forgettable than me," I said. I was rising to get the door so she could leave.

"Sit down, Richard. I'm not leaving. In a little bit, you're going to fuck me, and I'm going to love it—and you—and we are going to resume our lives together," she said. "Uh, our married lives together."

"What? Huh? When you can't even be bothered to remember to call me when you leave town? What kind of marriage would that be?" I said.

"I know, I know. But, this was a special case. I was whisked away by mom and dad. And then I was at Grandma's bedside, and then there was the reading of the will, and the relatives and the lawyers, and the I don't know what all. And, I thought I had called you; in my mind I had," she said. "And, Richard it was all so crazy."

I sagged, I was standing next to the door, but now I sagged against it. "Okay, get it out, all of it. I'm still pissed, and you will not tell me to wait or you're tired or any of it. Just get it all out. And, I mean now!" I said. She nodded.

"Okay," she said. An hour later she was done. It was indeed quite a tale. I could see she'd been overwhelmed and she was tired. But I didn't care. I really was still pissed.

"That it," I said.

"Not quite," she said. "There is one more thing." A slight smile began it spread across her face. I looked her askance.

"Well?" I said.

"Well, I never knew it, but great grandma Dorsey was rich. Even mom didn't know it, not exactly. I mean mom knew she had property a hotel and a small restaurant in Richmond. Mom inherited those; they're, mom and dad, planning to move back east right away, but that's another story. There were a few cousins still in the mix too and an organization catering to animal rights. But, no other close direct relatives. The cousins and the animal rights people were at the funeral too. They mostly arrived the day before it, actually," she said.

"Okay?" I said.

"Richard, great grandma, left a million dollars in cash. Half of it went to the animals. The rest was divided up equally among the cousins. And, Richard—and me. I got one hundred thousand dollars, minus taxes of course, but I'll still be coming out pretty good. Richard, you and I will be coming out pretty good.

"Richard we can afford to get remarried!" she said. She was so ebullient that I couldn't help but smile, so I did.

She came to me, threw her arms around me and cried. Damn women.

"Okay, Winifred, you and I will talk some more, but okay," I said.

And, yes, friends I was indeed still pissed. And, also indeed, still madly in love with her.

Cuddling on the couch we kissed thirty or forty times, felt each other up more or less continuously, and generally made up. And, then she hit me with yet another kick in my emotional balls.

I rose to lead her upstairs. She pulled me back down beside her on the couch. I gave her a what-now look.