The Interview (18 page)

“Joe didn't mention that.”

“I'm sure he didn't. I had a cop question me about an hour ago.
She told me that Joe's wife has called the cops three times since the
Turins moved in six months ago. The Turins talked their way out of it
each time. You think Joe went over and had a talk with Ted about
that? If Joe saw what was happening, why didn't he stop me? Why did
he dump it on you? Overstepping my boundaries isn't the problem.
Guys like Ted and Joe are the problem.”

“You think Joe abuses Terry?” Annette sounded absolutely
horrified by the idea.

“I don't think anything about the Redlands. They've always been
nice to me, but so are most people on my route. All I know is, Terry
calls the cops to stop a domestic dispute and Joe calls the cops to
stop an intervention. That's all it was, Annette. I promise. My
friend, Casey, came and got Kristin. Ted showed up and tried to stop
it from happening. I stopped Ted.”

“What is wrong with people, Kelly?”

“We can't all be like you, Annette. The world would be better,
but it's just not possible.”

“Stop it.” She smiled and I was thankful. I realized for
the first time that losing Annette would not be easy for me. That
realization gave me something like hope. Which is something I haven't
had in a long, long time.

“I'm serious. You are strong, independent, willful, and not
satisfied with the ordinary doldrums of a life lived by another's
rules. That's why you're so beautiful.”

“I'm sorry I doubted you, Kelly.”

“Welcome to the club, Annette. I doubt me all the time.”

I LEFT THE HOUSE JUST before 6:30. Traffic can be snarly heading into
Newport, but I had to lose two hands of gin before I left. Besides, I
took the bike, so snarly traffic wasn't going to be a problem.

I started riding about fifteen years ago so Fred would have a riding
buddy and to try and fill the holes in my day after Frankie left. I
broke down and bought my Suzuki GSXR 1000 two years ago because
getting left behind for thirteen years had grown extremely old. Fred
can still out ride me with one hand, but I look good while he's doing
it.

I zipped down the 55 in a pair of slip on deck shoes, my shorts and
t-shirt, and my helmet. Fred rides in full leathers, riding boots,
and a helmet. He also has a vest that inflates if he gets thrown from
his bike. It's like a motorcycle airbag. He plans on dying of old
age. I have no such aspirations. My body is like a rule, it's made to
be broken.

Traffic came to a standstill around the fairgrounds, but I kept on
zipping. The trick to splitting traffic is to watch the drivers in
their side mirrors. If they make eye contact with you, then you're
safe to slide on by. On the other hand, if they are rocking out to a
song on the radio, it's best to proceed with extreme caution. Some
drivers dance their cars all over the lane. Nothing like having a
two-ton automobile come sliding over into you because there's a cool
guitar solo on the stereo.

Rudy's Pub and Grill is a happening sports bar located on the corner
of Newport Blvd. and 31st Street. I pulled into the lot just after
seven. My skin tingled from the ride. Nothing like doing 90 MPH to
get the blood flowing. I parked my bike next to four others, then
walked to the entrance.

There was a new guy working the door. He was 6'5” with at least
250 pounds of pure muscle encasing his frame. He wasn't freakishly
muscled, but he was big and he looked like he knew how to handle
himself. Long, black hair was slicked back into a ponytail, a la
Steven Seagal before he started making straight to video movies.

“What's up?” I asked all friendly and conversant.

He said nothing, so I continued my side of it.

“Oh, a little of this, little of that.”

He just stared. I'm sure it scared the hell out of the kids trying to
get in with their fake licenses. This guy's light was dim. He checked
behind him then let me by.

“Thanks. Late.”

I like guy talk. Quick and to the point. I spotted Kim seated at an
outside table. Good girl. I could smoke out there. I wound my way
through the tables filled with a mish mash of beach bums and
after-work business types. The Angels and Dodgers competed for
attention on a bunch of flat screens. All the waitresses have brown
or black hair at Rudy's. No blondes, red heads, or other. Their
uniforms consist of knee-high black socks, black tennies, red and
black plaid skirts, and black shirts with Rudy's written in white.
School girls from Heaven in other words. The outside consists of a
patio with tables and a few heat towers scattered around for the cold
evenings. The wall is a series of glass panes that can be folded back
when the weather is nice. The temperature was in the seventies, so
the wall was open.

Kim pulled her eyes from the flow of traffic on Newport Blvd. as I
reached the table. I set my helmet on the ground to my left. I
considered asking her to switch seats with me. All the tough guys sit
with their backs to the wall so they can see everyone who comes in.
Kim had her back to the wall while mine was to the door. Then I
remembered that I was a mailman and not a tough guy. I pulled out the
chair and sat down.

“You ride?”

“I do.”

“Nice.”

“It is. You look rather stunning.” She did, too. As far
as I knew the only clothes she owned were designed for running on the
beach. Kind of like my wardrobe. Tonight, however, she was rocking a
white button down blouse, silver mid-thigh skirt, and black pumps.
Her hair was down, as well. Stunning was spot on.

“Thanks, Kelly. I just got off work.”

“What do you do?”

“I'm an adult novelty toy sales rep.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“It's not as glamorous and sexy as it sounds. I sit in an
office all day, talk on the phone, and work on a computer.”

“Do you get free samples?”

“Yeah,” she said with a mischievous grin that reminded me
of Calvin when he was up to no good. “There's some crazy
stuff.”

“I bet.”

“How bout you? What do you do?”

“Mailman.”

She considered that for a moment. “That works. I can see it.”

“It's a job.” A job that I was seriously over at this
moment in my life. “What are you drinking?”

“Commie Jack and Coke.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It's Red Bull, Jack, and Coke.”

“Clever.”

“I guess. It's good though.”

Our server appeared on cue. “Hi. My name's Sarah. Can I get you
something to drink?”

I was feeling kind of dangerous and tough. My usual Screaming Orgasm
didn't seem right. “I'll have a Piña Colada.”

She smiled. I almost said, “No, I'm not gay.” Instead, I
pointed to Kim and said, “She wears the pants.”

“OK. Would you like any appetizers or food?”

I looked at Kim. She nodded.

“We'll be ready when you come back with my girlie drink.”

“K.” She bounced off.

“You don't seem like a Piña Colada kind of guy.”

“I like drinks that you can't taste the alcohol.”

“Chick drinks.”

“Exactly.”

In the roughly sixty seconds I had been there, Kim had looked over my
shoulder in the direction of the door about a hundred times. I'm not
sure if she realized it. I glanced back and found myself on the end
of a very scary look courtesy of the guy at the door.

“Friend of yours?”

“He's kind of why I asked you here.”

“The really good sex guy?”

“No. The absolutely mind-blowing sex guy.”

“Ah. Two guys can be tough.”

“Well, see that's the problem. There's also the really funny
guy who's OK in bed, and then there's the father of my children.”

I really needed my Piña Colada. “You have kids?”

“No. He's going to be the father of my children when I'm ready
to settle down.”

I nodded my head. “So you want nachos or something?”

Her face fell. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dragged you into
this.”

“No, it's cool. I just want to be ready when she gets back or
we'll never see her again.”

“Oh, yeah, right. Do you want something low-cal?”

“I drink like a girl, but I eat like a man. I was thinking the
one that has everything.”

She nodded her head up and down really fast and her eyes got really
big. I briefly wondered if she wanted to add another man to her life,
then dismissed it. I'm not sure where I would have fit in with the
other four. The old guy who couldn't get it up more than once a
night?

“OK. I'm going to have a burger, too.”

“Salad for me.”

“Now we're gender correct. I'll let you order though so she
doesn't get confused about who's in charge.”

She laughed. “You're a trip.” I could be the trippy guy.
That didn't sound too bad. God, I needed to get laid. Frankie's plane
couldn't land soon enough.

My Piña Colada materialized. Kim ordered for the both of us,
laughing the entire time. I ordered another drink while I had the
girl's attention, while Kim switched to a traditional Jack and Coke.

“I'll be wired all night if I have another commie.”

“Do you live down here?” I asked.

“Here. There. I kind of couch hop.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Been that way since I graduated from UCLA.”

“Impressive.”

“It's no big thing. I'm kind of like a gypsy.”

“I meant UCLA.”

“Oh, that.” She shrugged her shoulders as if graduating
from a major university was no big thing. “I got my BA in
Business. Just trying to figure out what I want to do with it.”

“So the toy thing is temporary?”

“Started that way. But, it's been eight years now. I make a
hundred grand a year after commissions and bonuses. It pays the
bills.”

“What bills? You couch hop.”

“You want to hear something crazy?”

“As opposed to this entire conversation?”

She laughed and shook her head. Kim was growing on me rather quickly.
I couldn't remember why I had never asked her out. “God, you're
a trip.” She leaned across the table and whispered, “Check
it out. I'm a millionaire.”

I am such an idiot. “Shut up.”

“No. I'm serious. I broke into the club last month. Isn't that
crazy?”

“Do the owners of the couches know?”

“No. They don't have a clue. I drive a ten-year-old Accord. I
don't have a credit card other than my ATM plastic. My paychecks are
direct deposited into my account. I roll 80% of that into some stocks
and mutual funds. I woke up one day and bam! I'm a millionaire. If
the market hadn't tanked so bad I would have made it last year. My
financial planner is a freaking genius. I met her in college and she
hooked me up.”

“I guess so.” Let's see, I think I had about $100,000 in
my retirement and a hundred bucks in my savings account. I had a
couple credit cards with minimal amounts revolving. I had thought
that I was doing pretty good. Not.

“I got suspended from work today. Then I punched out my union
guy this morning.”

“Impressive.”

“Kind of. Not a millionaire or anything.”

The appetizers arrived along with our second round. We ordered a
third set, then started in on the food. We ate without talking for a
time. I was starving, and her appetite matched me step for step.

“So what about the men in your life. Do they know?”

“God no. I'd never get rid of them if they knew.”

“That's a fact. You're never going to get rid of me that's for
damn sure.”

“I kind of already knew that. We've been running together for
what a year?”

“Give or take.”

“I'll tell you something. I don't run when you go on your
vacations.”

“What?”

“It feels weird when you're not there, you know? It bums me
out. Summer's the worst, 'cause you take those two weeks back to
back. I really appreciate the way you tell me if you're not going to
make it on a certain day, too. I'll tell you something else. I would
have stopped running a long time ago if it wasn't for you.”

“I'm with you on that. No way I would have kept dragging my ass
down to the beach that early in the morning.”

“I know. This is the really crazy part. You are the most stable
thing in my life.”

“Other than your wealth.”

She waved me away. I don't know how many drinks she had before I got
there, but she was well on her way to being looped. I had a nice buzz
that told me the next drink should be my last. I'll take my chances
in a car and blood alcohol content over the legal limit, but I don't
on the GSXR. A guy with a death wish I'm not.

“Wealth, shmealth. I have everything I want. I don't even think
about it. I have a great life, but you are kind of like the
foundation of my life's house.”

“You mind if I smoke?”

“I sat outside didn't I.”

“Right, right.” I did my thing.

“I'm drunk,” she giggled.

“You're being straight with me.” It wasn't really a
question, more like a request for affirmation.

“Completely. I didn't plan any of it. It just kind of worked
out the way it did.” She glanced over my shoulder.

“You want to tell me what the problem is now?”

“Yeah, I think I'm ready now. I was a little scared. Wasn't
sure how you were going to respond to all this. I've wanted to have
this conversation for a couple months now. The other morning when you
told me about beating up that guy you just kind of triggered
something, ya know?”

I knew all right. It had triggered a whole bunch of things. I also
knew that my life had taken a turn for the better since that evening
in Tacqueria. A weird turn, but a good turn all the same.

The arrival of our entrées delayed our discussion for a few
more minutes. Rudy's is a cool place, but their food is what makes it
for me.

“Do you remember that first time we talked?” Kim asked.

“Sure. You asked me if I was stalking you.”

“Right. Well, it was kind of weird how you were always sitting
there when I ran by.”