“I suppose,” Marguerite says, stretching wearily. “It’s hot out there. Nice in here.”
“You got air in that car, though.”
“Yeah. But it’s getting from here to there that bothers me.” She laughs. “That’s the trouble with air-conditioning. Nobody missed it till after they got it. Anyhow, when that thing in my car starts up, all it blows out at first is more hot air. It’s worse’n a heater.”
Bob watches the woman carefully, as if she were prey. “Are you … are you going straight home from here?”
“Yeah,” she says. “I got to fix supper for Daddy.”
“Then? Then what?”
“Then … nothing, I guess. No big date. No nothing.” She smiles with slight embarrassment, as if coming up empty-handed.
“Don’t you have any boyfriends?”
“Nope.” With a sudden movement, she stabs at her hair with stiffened fingers. “No boyfriends. You never heard me mention none, did you?”
“Well, I wondered. You know, since you’re so good-looking and all, and single. But I never asked before, because I figured you’d just say yes.”
She smiles. Her teeth are large and gapped. To Bob, they’re sexy, forthright, passionate teeth. “And you didn’t want to hear me say so?”
“Right.” He smiles back.
“What about you, mister?”
“Well. I’m married, you know,” he says, suddenly serious.
“Yeah. But that don’t stop people.”
“I’ll tell you the truth.”
“Uh-huh. You tell me the truth.”
“I have … I
“Uh-huh. Just friends. What about your wife? Did she know about this friend of yours?”
“Jesus, no! No. It was just a once-in-a-while thing, me and Doris. That was her name, Doris.”
“Uh-huh. Doris. Well,” she says, “I’ve got to get Daddy and go home.”
“Is your house air-conditioned?”
“I got me one unit in the living room, and it cools the rest of the house down pretty good, except when I’m cooking or there’s a whole lot of people in the house. But it’s fine for me and Daddy.” She looks toward the back of the store, as if in search of her father, who sits in the stockroom on a crate, waiting for her call.
“Ah, listen, Marguerite, I’d like to go out for a drink with you sometime. Would that be okay with you?” He exhales slowly.
Screwing up her face, as if trying to remember his name, she studies his eyes for a few seconds. “You sure? I mean, there’s places we could go. Over in Winter Haven or up in Lakeland. You’re married, you know. In case you’ve forgotten.” She pauses. “And we’d stick out.”
Bob takes shallow breaths quickly and his voice comes out higher than he’d like. “Of course I’m sure. Just go out for a few drinks, you know, some night after I close the store.”
“You know what you’re doing,” she informs him.
“Oh, yeah. No problem. I could pick you up at your house, if you wanted, or we could meet someplace.”
She is silent for a second, then smiles and pats his hand. “Tell you what. I’ll pick you up here at the store some night. My car’s got air, remember? That ol’ thing of yours, that’s a Yankee car.” She smiles warmly and calls her father.
Folding his arms across his chest, Bob steps back from the register, as if he’s just completed a big sale. He leans against the shelf behind him and watches the woman and her father head for the door. Just as she reaches to open it, Bob calls to her, “How about tonight? I close at nine.”
Without looking back, she says, “I don’t know,” opens the door and steps into the heat.
At seven, she calls him, and sounding slightly frightened, speaking more rapidly than usual, she says that she’ll meet him at nine, then hurriedly, as if late for another appointment, gets off the phone.
Bob immediately calls Elaine at home and tells her he’s made a new friend, a Budweiser salesman from Lakeland, who’s asked him out for a drink after work, so he’ll be home a little later than usual tonight.
This relieves Elaine. A new friend is what Bob needs. Someone to brag to, someone he can talk fishing and sports with, someone he can complain freely to, especially about Eddie, because she knows he won’t complain about Eddie to her, no matter how much Eddie, that bastard Eddie, bothers him.
