C A L I F O R N I A
|
This guy I was seeing (now my husband) read one of my early love-gone-wrong stories and said, "Why don't you just write a story called 'Men Who Are Jerks'?" The title came together with horror stories from single friends of all sexes. Another Lila story, "Movie in the Sky," was published in Pacific Review. |
LILA SUE LINDER had wised up. That's what she said. She told me jerks
rise to the surface, and she'd seen enough jerks to last her a lifetime.
Since she was only twenty-seven, there was no hurry about meeting the next
one.
Lila swirled her pink squirrel around in her glass. We were drinking at
the Wagon, where she sang and where I'd met her.
"I've been in love too many times," she said.
She would see somebody wonderful for six months or even a year, and suddenly there would be an apologetic phone call, a dinner with a sorry conclusion, a disappearance. Another song would be ruined for her, and the sight of one more restaurant or another bar would make her feel like crying.
"In a small town," she said, "That gets to be a problem."
I smiled. "So why are you telling me all this?"
"Cause I'm drunk, Jack," Lila said. "And you seem so understanding."
Pretty women always think I'm understanding. Lila had written some songs about her situation. She wrote a song called "I'm a Curable Romantic and I Just Got Cured Again." She wrote "Why a Beer's Better than a Man," and "Men Who Are Jerks." She said her boss at the Wagon let her sing them, because she told him they were Dolly Parton's.
I used to go watch her sing. She was something to see, with all that dark hair almost to her knees. Half her audience probably came to see what she'd do with her hair. The other half came to look at the rest of her. But Lila could sing, too. She was real good with her love-gone-wrong songs. When my wife went back to Tulsa, and later when my divorce was final, Lila was the one I drank with.
Lila sighed and swirled that pink goo. "Too bad we're just good friends, Jack," she said. "Bill had the nerve to give me a post office box for an address. Claims he doesn't have a phone, either."
"Poor guy," I said. "Is he broke?"
"That means he's married, honey. There goes another cute one. There is nothing out there but men who are jerks."
"I'm not a jerk," I said.
"You are very sweet."
I'm not as bad as I sound. But I'm not a cowboy, which I guess left me off Lila's list. She told me a girl should never fall in love with a cop.
"I'm a California Highway Patrolman, Ma'am, " I said.
"Same difference."
I started looking out for Lila, in a friendly way. She worked days at an office-"My singing wouldn't keep me in pantyhose!"- so I thought she might be short of cash. I fixed her some meals.
One night as I made hamburgers, Lila let her phone ring about fifteen times.
"Your phone's ringing, Lila," I said.
"It's Bill. Calling me from a phone booth while his wife cooks dinner. You answer-Let him hear a man's voice. I've met somebody new, anyway."
We let the phone ring while she talked about Clete. She said he was big-"Even taller than you, Jack,"-and drop-dead handsome, with a year-round tan, a lanky cowboy grace. She showed me his picture, too.
He'd taken Lila to the rodeo. I imagined her watching the dust rise as a steer's legs were tied. Clete was honest: He told her his divorce wasn't final, so he needed to see a lot of people. She knew that would change once they fell in love. He was mature: He had smile lines around his eyes. He owned a ranch down in Saugus, handled his own investments. I could see her running one finger down his nice leather jacket.
"It might be okay to be the third wife of a guy like that," she said.
"What? Lila, what are you trying to do to yourself?" I put hamburger buns on the rack. "Guys like that never grow up."
"I just try to be realistic," she said. "It's a jungle out there."
Around this time Lila was getting a reputation locally as a good singer, and people told her to try her luck in L.A. or Memphis.
"Everybody from Escalon to Merced knows I can sing," she said. "That's a reason to leave here?"
I didn't think Lila would ever leave here. The truth was she wouldn't leave Clete.
Cowboy Clete told her to date other people too. That was where I came in. Suddenly she flirted with me, and the change was pretty subtle, for Lila. One day she patted me on the back and the next she let her hand rest on my shoulder for a minute. I hated to admit to myself that it was because of somebody else.
Lila and her sister went to New York City that June, and she sent me a postcard: "We went up in the Statue of Liberty. It was 110 degrees in her forehead!" But she signed the card "Love."
For my birthday she gave me pubic hair conditioner. Lila was always a joker. "This is a good product, Jack. I want you to use this."
"Are you going to check?" I said, but instead of hitting me, she laughed and let her eyes hold mine for a moment.
It didn't take me long to ask her out for a real date. I knew I was Clete's backup. No doubt I made Clete seem more impressive- the way the moon looks bigger when it's near the horizon. It was hard to pin Lila down, too. I asked her out for Saturday on Tuesday, and she said, "Honey, I can't think that far ahead." Then when I asked her out on Thursday, she seemed insulted. "I think I'm busy," she said.
But we went out. I was happier than I should have been that summer, taking Lila around to movies and restaurants. She could relax with me. I remembered how she used to chatter to me about wanting to get married. Now she told me to date other people, too. But I had a plan.
I told Lila since I spent all day on Interstate 5, I was as glad to stay home and cook for her as go out. I figured that was something a guy like Clete wouldn't think of. I like movies on TV as much as movies in the theater, and I told her so, even when she offered to pay.
"Lila, listen," I said. We were sitting on the couch. It was August and we could hear crickets through the screen door. In scouts I learned to calculate temperature by counting chirps per minute, but now I couldn't remember the formula. I picked up Lila's hand. "I'm looking for long-time affection. I think you are, too. And I make a good living. I know you've been struggling along. Let's help each other."
Lila frowned. "I'm not sure what you're suggesting, Jack. Anyway, you couldn't you make much more than me, or you wouldn't have gotten so scared to spend it." Then she tried to laugh me off. "I like you anyway, miser."
I felt too bad to explain. Maybe I said it too soon or didn't say it so well, but she missed my meaning.
I don't get angry fast. Lila was a pretty woman and I was out of my mind. I figured she was playing games with me, so I gave Mandy a call.
Sure enough, that Friday evening Lila called me.
"Let's go have pizza," she said.
"I did have some plans, Lila."
I don't break dates. I'd feel like a jerk if I did. But I kept thinking of how Lila had looked last time I'd seen her. I imagined her long hair falling on me, and I picked up the phone and dialed Mandy.
"Get some extra rest tonight if you're catching cold, Jack," Mandy said. "But you better be ready to haul your ass out of bed and play ball tomorrow anyway." I liked Mandy for that.
I called Lila back and told her I could make it. She laughed. We went to Shakey's. I know she had a good time.
Since we were dating now, and not just friends, Lila had decided it was okay to let me kiss her. I can say this, looking back. I'd had some friendly good-night pecks, after which she'd quickly said she had to get her beauty rest. This time when I took her home she asked me in, even though it was late.
"Have a seat, Jack, and I'll get you a beer."
Things were looking up. Here we were alone on the couch after midnight. Seemed like nobody was going anywhere.
Most people close their eyes when they kiss. Don't they. With Lila I never knew if that was a good sign or a bad one. She could have been pretending I was Clete. I wondered more when she switched off the light. Still, I had Lila in my arms and I wasn't going to go nuts over something imaginary. She was little and smelled good and every now and then she would giggle. I was in love, like I said. We kissed quite a while. We got lying down, but when I started trying to get the clothing out of the way, Lila sat up.
"How many states do you suppose this is still illegal in, Officer?" she said.
"I'm a highway patrolman," I said. "I don't mind long as you don't do it in the road."
She wouldn't laugh at that. She stood up, stretched, and said, "Jack, honey, I'm so tired."
"Goddammit, Lila," I said, "What are you getting all this beauty rest for, anyway?"
"Well, don't get your panties in a bunch!" Lila said. "I told you, I'm not ready to make love with anybody these days."
It was like being back in high school. "I suppose you make Clete take you home at nine o'clock."
"Yes I do. Last time I went to his place I found these big red earrings on his kitchen counter. I figured I'd leave before I got counting dirty sheets." Now she was crying. She was always either crying or laughing. "Jack, all the movies Clete and I see, he's already seen with somebody else!"
I kissed her on the forehead and went home. It was September. I could feel the season changing. Everything smelled like wood smoke.
Like I keep explaining, I'm a patient man. I've never touched a woman who was in love with someone else, but I figured I still had a chance if nothing was going on with Clete either.
"My little sister and I are so darn different," Lila said. We were back at the Wagon on a Monday night. A football game hissed away on the TV. "Nancy's gone and got engaged again."
Nancy had married at seventeen first time. The guy went to jail soon after, and the family just about forced her to sign divorce papers.
"But he needs me," Nancy kept saying. Still, once it was final she felt better.
"You don't really understand a person until you divorce them," Nancy told Lila. Lila said she wouldn't know. Nancy's new fiance sold cars, so Nancy wouldn't end up supporting him.
Lila asked me over that same week for a quiet evening. Nancy's engagement and the holidays got her into a romantic mood. Clete was out of town, too-I asked. Lila had scented candles lit and a roast and baked potatoes on the dining room table. We joked around like usual. When I got serious she pretended I was staring at her salt and pepper shakers.
"Aren't these cute?" Lila said. They were little sheds marked "This house is full of s--" and "This house is full of p--".
"Stop changing the subject. You know I care about you, Lila," I said.
"Uh-huh," she answered, and started giggling. But she didn't try to stop me later with a lot of bull about what's legal where.
Afterward when I guess she thought I was sleeping, Lila looked out into her garden. From the bed I could see half-lit faces of sunflowers shaking in the wind. Mist would be creeping under the archway downtown. Being single is worst in December-but maybe that was going to end. I pulled the blankets up to my chin. Lila turned to me with a tender look you'd give a kid, and seemed startled to see my eyes open.
"Winter's coming on," she said. She bent down and patted my cheek. "I've got a head full of tule fog."
"What do you mean, honey?" I asked. I tried to pull her into my arms but she went off to take a shower.
So after our big night Lila avoided me for a few weeks. How do you get close to somebody like that? Out on the road every day, between here and Stockton, I tried to think what must have happened. Whether the occasion had been before or after our night together, I couldn't tell you, but I knew it had to do with Clete. She was crazy about that individual-even if I'd occupied a few thoughts.
I knew what Clete's kind of place would be-dark and noisy, with a candle blinking on each table. A steak house, expensive but not sophisticated, with lots of food and attentive service. She felt funny in restaurants like that-a couple guys had told her good-bye in each steak house in town.
Her steak took an awfully long time to chew. She knew all this wine would mean a headache tomorrow, but her worries were farther off tonight. Clete was talking about his mutual funds.
At the end of dinner Clete filled her glass with red wine again and said, "Lila, I've put off saying this as long as I could. I don't want to hurt your feelings."
She put down her fork and looked Clete in the eye. At least she hadn't slept with him. Clete had never fooled her. (And of course there was still me. I was crazy about her.)
"Your company and conversation alone are exciting. But there's got to be more to this friendship. I can't resist you much longer."
Lila would have laughed out loud-he cared about her after all. She would have gone home with Clete late that night, and made herself ignore those red high heels in the dining room.
Clete was wonderful. She started thinking about a new song called "Ever After," and then admitted to Clete that she wanted to marry him. He wouldn't have responded to that.
Maybe I'm torturing myself. But I bet I'm not far from the truth.
When I finally got hold of Lila one Friday in January, she said, "Oh, Jack, I think I have a date tomorrow." I said I probably had something to do, too.
But she called me the week after that. When I went to pick her up she was wearing blue. I'd told her that was my favorite color. She was showing a little cleavage but not that flower tattoo over her left breast. She'd brushed her hair down straight, the way I told her I liked it best.
We went to dinner at a Chinese place. "This is fun. I like to look at these little characters on the menu and pretend I can read them. Maybe someday we'll travel together, Jack."
"What's happened with Clete?" I said.
Lila looked down at her pink squirrel. "He's gone down to L.A. for a while. You can't expect a businessman to stay here. All people here talk about is how their kids lasso the dog and the Lay-Z-Boy."
"Have you heard from him?"
"Oh, I sent him a note," she said. "He was just a jerk."
"Well. So what else is going on with you?"
"My sister's married again. She found another convict-what can I say?"
The waitress brought the second drink. I cleared my throat.
"You know I've been dating Mandy," I said, "And you've been seeing God knows who all."
"Are you thinking of settling me down, Jack Rogers?" Lila asked. She took a sip of her drink. "I do like variety in my life," she said. She had a shaky smile.
"I know you do," I said. "You've said so. But I'm not so sure I like it. I know Mandy wouldn't. We're moving in together." Actually I'd just decided the day before.
Lila said, "Oh, don't leave me, honey."
Everything went dark at the edges for a minute. I looked at her close to see if she was kidding. I still wasn't sure.
"If I thought I'd ever had a chance with you, Lila-" I said. I shook my head. Do I have the world's shortest memory, or what? "It just wouldn't work, that's all."
Lila stared right at me. "You're just another jerk, then," she whispered. "Aren't you, Jack?"
Copyright 1998 Catherine deCuir.
All rights reserved.