“Ma’am, I don’t mean to offend, but it doesn’t matter what your offer is,” he said, taking one more cut at the ball. Some people just couldn’t take no for an answer. “I don’t want to sell my house. I do, however, want to go back to sleep. Please excuse me if I don’t show you out, but as you can see, I’m not wearing any pants.” He turned once more, intending to go find some peace.
“I notice that you’re wearing a wedding ring. Maybe you should talk over my offer with your wife.” A.J.
“Lady, go away. If you want to talk to my wife, come back at one a.m. and drag her out in her panties. Wear a raincoat, because I guarantee she’ll turn the garden hose on you. But for now, go away and let me sleep.” He pointed in the direction of the highway. There was a strange dynamic at play. Truth’s hardball stare had never left him. Finally, she flashed a smile.
“Your fly is open,” she said as she turned to leave.
“That’s not for sale, either,” came his reply.
“Not interested,” she hollered over her shoulder as she sauntered across the yard. He stood there, hairy-legged and bare-chested, and wondered what in hell that had been all about.
When Maggie arrived home, A.J. discussed the encounter with her and discovered that Truth had bought several properties around the county. Maggie had acquired this knowledge while lunching with Ms. Hannassey, who had tracked Maggie down after her chat with A.J. She had apparently been unwilling to take his word on the subject of selling the Folly. This knowledge did little to enhance his regard for her, and according to Maggie, the feeling was mutual. The word on the streets was that Truth was a wealthy real estate genius who had no use for the male of the species, living or dead.
“Well, neither do I,” A.J. said, stating their common ground, amazed that Truth had hunted Maggie up. He was a small town boy and liked it that way, a hayseed by conscious choice and not just dumb luck, and he had encountered very few beings similar to Truth on his travels through the maze. Indeed, he felt he could have gone much longer without the privilege. “At least you got to wear your pants while you were talking,” he noted.
“No wonder you didn’t get along with her,” Maggie said. “She’s very intense. Definitely not your cup of tea.”
“So, did you sell the house?” A.J. asked.
“No, but it was tempting. She offered two hundred thousand dollars.”
“Damn. I would have put on my pants for that.” Maybe he had been hasty.
“She also offered me a job,” Maggie continued. “She said she liked my style, but my taste in men sucked. She wanted me to be a liaison between her and the locals. She felt that I could open a few doors.” Maggie was smiling.
“Please tell me you turned her down,” he said. He just couldn’t envision having the boss, Truth Hannassey, over for dinner. It was too much to bear, trousers or no.
“It was a very good offer,” she said. He grimaced as if he had stepped on something jagged and rusty. “But I turned it down. The money would have been nice, but I don’t think I’m right for the work. I guess I’m pretty satisfied with what I do and what I have.” He quietly exhaled the breath he had been holding. “I’ll tell you one thing, though,” she continued. “I really like her. I think we’re going to be good friends.” He coughed. The whims of fate were as cruel as November wind.
Eugene, too, had made the acquaintance of Truth. She had walked into the beer joint and offered Eugene a very respectable sum of money for his mountain, on top of which she wished to build a subdivision. Eugene liked his mountain and had no need for more money, so he had declined the offer. There was, however, a complication. Eugene had become smitten with her.
“Man, you just know she has some fine pussy on her,” Eugene drooled.
“Eugene, she’s a lesbian,” A.J. told him. “She doesn’t like boys. She likes girls.”
“Give me thirty minutes with her, and I guarantee you I’ll have her straightened out,” he said, lust heavy in his voice. He had a bad case of it.
“I don’t think it works that way,” A.J. replied. “Anyway, you’re married. You don’t get to play with the big-city girls.”
“Well, you just mark this down,” Eugene had vowed. “It’s her destiny to enjoy a little Purdue bliss.” Thus was it written. Thus was it eventually done.
“Diane and Truth Hannassey together?” Maggie asked, incredulous. “I’m having a little trouble swallowing that one.” It was an accepted fact that Truth had a roving eye, but most of her companionship to date had been imported, due to the size of the local gene pool and its basically conservative demographic.
“Me, too,” A.J. agreed. “But there it was. I’m glad Eugene didn’t catch on. It would kill him to know he has driven Diane away from men completely.” He paused before continuing. “I think he was hoping for a reconciliation, and maybe one more for the road.”
“Sounds like that’s not going to happen,” Maggie said, distracted. “I’m sorry, but I’m still getting used to the concept. Are you sure it was Truth?”
“I swear it. I saw her.”
“Relationship-wise, Truth is probably a bigger disaster than Eugene. I hope Diane keeps her eyes open.”
“I think she ought to trip the light fantastic with Eugene one more time,” A.J. said.
“Why should she?” asked Maggie. “All that’s over between them. She doesn’t love him anymore. Why should she sleep with him?”
“Charity. Sympathy. Decency. I don’t know, but she ought to do it,” A.J. said. “You would give me one more tumble, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, I would. But you haven’t been an absolute shit for the last twenty years. It is through works, not faith, that dispossessed husbands earn one more for the road. Besides, I thought you had a pride problem when it came to charity sex.”
“I do, but I’m not obsessive about it.” He smiled.
“I might find myself in a charitable mood later,” she allowed. “But first we have some children to feed.”
“Great,” he said. “I’ve been kind of steamed up since I saw Diane in her gown.” He earned an elbow in the ribs for the revelation.
They arose, and together they set to the evening chores. A.J. cooked supper while Maggie oversaw the bathing of their offspring. Later, the children were put down, each with a kiss and a story. Later still, in the glow of the moonlight as it filtered through the windowpanes, Maggie and A.J. drifted off in the easy embrace of two people unquestionably in love.
CHAPTER 10
What would it take to get some of that pussy?
– Excerpt of posthumous letter from Eugene Purdue to Truth Hannassey
A.J. AWOKE EARLY THE NEXT MORNING. HIS EVENING of intimacy with Maggie had done much to improve his mood. She had the ability to make him feel like he was a part of the world rather than just a mildly interested observer, and he felt renewed. He slipped out of bed carefully, so as not to awaken her, although she stirred and reached for him. He sat on the side of the bed and took her hand, and she murmured an almost inaudible sound as she settled back into slumber. He gently stroked her hair while she slept. He often watched her in repose; it instilled in him a sense of serenity.
She loved to sleep late, although the opportunity to do so did not often present itself. A.J., on the other hand, slept very little, never longer than five or six hours. He had received this trait from John Robert, and there was nothing much he could do about it. It was a factor set at conception, like hair color or political affiliation. Pigs can’t fly because pork is heavy, snakes crawl on their bellies because they have no feet, and A.J. was up before the sun because his eyes would not stay closed.
“If I had known you never sleep,” Maggie had observed not long after their marriage, “I might have had second
