(4)
— Originally published in Pangolin Papers, Fall, 2003
Continued from page (3)
He opened to the centerfold. Doris hadn’t
asked for alimony, but he’d insisted. That plus child support.
They’d agreed that she’d only pay him a quarter of the
house’s value when she had the money because she’d paid
the mortgage out of her salary, and he’d paid for groceries and
utilities and kept the place up. No cares have I to grieve me . . .
He turned pages. Overblown bodies flashed past his eyes. Beautiful
spring day. He should get out and get some exercise. He stood long
enough to crank open the window. The ground in the U-shaped apartment
complex was strikingly green in the patches where grass still grew.
The scrappy forsythias were out and forgotten daffodils up. He’d
love to see his and Joey’s cherry tree—well, not his
anymore, but he’d planted it and mulched it, fed it, protected
it against the worst of the winter freeze. It was nearly fifteen feet
tall now. Maybe he could drive by sometime when Doris and Joey
were out and sneak a look. No pretty little girls to deceive me . . .
Springtime. Supposed to let your fancy turn. Lots of babes hung out at
Clyde’s on Saturday nights. Maybe some pub crawling would help
him chase away the blues. Wouldn’t cost much if he stuck to beer
and drank slow. He’d been hiding out long enough. Time to get
out and howl.
Not tonight. I’m happy as a lark, believe me . . .
Riley pushed the magazine away. Another bad day. If he didn’t
watch it, he’d end up on a crying jag. He stared at the phone.
Doris wouldn’t be at the office. She’d be at her mother’s.
With Joey. Riley knew he shouldn’t do it, but he so wanted to
hear her voice. He lifted the receiver and dialed her private line at
work. After the second ring, the recorded announcement came on.
“This is Doris Riley at the Landgrave
Institute. I’ll be in on Monday. Leave me a message, and I’ll
get back to you.” Doris had a little
girl’s voice, in keeping with her small, perfectly formed body.
He pictured her gray eyes, her short dark hair swept back on the sides
and a swag over her forehead. Ears like newly opened roses. He could
see her in her fitted business suit and black pumps.
TOM'S TALES