“I don’t want my daughter to grow up believing it’s okay for some asshole drunk to slap her around! She deserves better than what I got!”
It wasn’t like he didn’t try to smooth things over; he did. He even offered to buy a new lamp, something nicer than the piece of junk they had, but that wasn’t good enough.
“I don’t want a new lamp,” she screamed. “I want a new life.”
“Screw you!” he said. “You want a new life? Then go find Annie’s daddy and see if he’s willing to give it to you!”
Maybe he shouldn’t have said what he did, but at that point he’d had enough.
Things got a whole lot uglier after that. This morning, with his head feeling like it was ready to split open, he was in no mood for rehashing the whole stinking mess. Hopefully she wouldn’t drag it out for another two days.
Earl pulled himself up to a sitting position, then grunted and shook his head. Days like this, it seemed like getting out of bed was hardly worth the effort.
“Suzanna,” he hollered, “bring me a cup of coffee.”
No answer. That meant he was getting the silent treatment. Better than the alternative.
Tromping through the house in his underwear, he called out again. Still no answer. He expected to find her sulking in the kitchen or in the back yard with her nose in a book to prove she was ignoring him, but she was in neither of those places. He checked the laundry room, then Annie’s room, but she was nowhere to be found.
With a grumble of annoyance, he turned back to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Suzanna made a full pot every morning; she drank one cup and left the rest for him. Except this morning the pot was empty. Not just empty, but washed clean as if it had never been used.
“What the hell…” For few seconds Earl stood there letting it register. Then he slammed the empty pot back down on the counter and grumbled, “Nice, Suzanna, real nice. Watch what being spiteful gets you!”
Desperately in need of coffee, he returned to the bedroom, pulled on his jeans, then got in the car and headed for Angie’s Luncheonette.
Still feeling the pinch of Suzanna’s spitefulness, he ordered coffee and a sweet roll then sat there fuming. He was determined Suzanna would get payback for this morning’s stunt but was not yet sure how he’d go about it. One thing was certain: this time he was not going to apologize for what happened last night.
After downing four cups of coffee and two cinnamon rolls, he was ready to take on the day. He stood and asked, “What do I owe you, Angie?”
“Seventy-five cents.”
Earl liked Angie; he especially liked the way she’d lean across the counter giving him a look-see at her boobs as she poured the coffee. She was a woman who knew how to get on the good side of a man, and that was something he appreciated. Reaching into his pocket for the folded bills, he figured he’d slap a dollar down on the counter and tell her to keep the change but the money he’d had last night was gone. Not in the right pocket, nor the left. He fished through the back pockets; nothing. There was a bit of loose change in the right front pocket, but the bills were gone.
A single thought crossed his mind: Suzanna. Was it possible she’d pull a stunt as stupid as this? She’d never done it before, but then she’d never deliberately left the coffee pot empty either. The more he thought about the possibility of her taking the money, the angrier he got.
Trying to hide the anger rising up inside of him, he forced a smile and said, “Angie baby, looks like I went off without any money. Okay if I catch up next time?”
She sashayed over and leaned across the counter. “And if I’m willing to wait until next time, what’s in it for me?”
Most days he would have answered such a provocative question with an equally suggestive answer but not today.
“A fat tip,” he said, then disappeared through the door.
Earl went home, searched the house looking for the missing money or a clue as to where Suzanna had gone, but he came up dry on both counts. As far as he could tell, nothing else was missing, so where could she have gone with a seven-year-old kid and only eighteen bucks in her pocket?
The thought of her doing this as revenge for him being a little short-tempered settled into his brain and sizzled like an egg on a hot griddle. He had half a mind to toss her crap out onto the front lawn and let it get soaked by the evening rain. By now she probably knew what a stupid mistake she’d made, and it would serve her right to find those sopping wet clothes and have to haul them back into the house. If she didn’t come back until tomorrow, all the better. By then the hot sun would bake the mud into her dresses, and they’d be ruined.
She’d be back, he had no doubt of that; if not today, then tomorrow or the next day. When the money gave out, she’d come dragging her sorry ass home. She’d have to; there was nowhere else to go. Her daddy had said goodbye and good riddance before Annie was born, and her friends, if you could call them friends, were neighbors who’d think twice about getting involved in a family spat.
Earl glanced at the clock: 3 p.m. He had to be at the bowling alley by four. With the thought of seeing her clothes scattered
