You Deserve Each Other(30)

The concept of a dentist handing out teeth-rotting substances to children will look vulgar to the parents rummaging through their kids’ bags and buckets tonight. What a gross move, they’ll mutter. Turpin Family Dentistry, here I come.

But Nicholas isn’t fazed as he passes candy into tiny hands, bowing to the princesses and pretending to be scared of the monsters. Maybe he doesn’t notice the business cards because he’s too busy remembering a romp in his back seat with a dental hygienist. In my mind she looks like the hot nurse from that old Blink-182 album cover.

I look at him and think I’ll kill you. It shows on my face.

He raises his eyebrows and smiles. I recognize it straight away as his polite liar smile, the one he puts on when we visit my parents twice a year and they ask how well we’re liking living in sin. The smile he gives my brother when Aaron corners him for a presentation of Please Give Me Rent Money; I’ve Spent My Paycheck On Another PlayStation. The smile he gives my sister, Kelly, when she stands too close and stares too long, winding a lock of hair around her finger in a way she imagines is seductive.

I want to hiss Where were you all day. I grind my teeth together to keep the words trapped. Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask. It’s what he’s waiting for, lounging in jeans and glasses, hands interlocked behind his head. That’s the beginning and end of his focus right now: Ask, ask, ask. I hear the telepathic chant.

Children come and go in thin herds, makeup smeared, half their costumes covered up with coats and hats. The temperature drops with the sun, and I go inside to get myself a throw blanket. As I pass him, traces of some aroma I’ve smelled before greet me. The answer to my déjà vu sits in a locked drawer, just vague and faded enough that I can’t pinpoint where I’ve come across it in the past. I wouldn’t ask him even if he tortured me. When I return, he exhales loudly, then goes inside for his own blanket.

What’d you do with the Maserati.

Where in the hell have you been.

We ignore each other. I take keen stock of every virile man who happens by and wonder what else is out there. I’m surely settling.

I think maybe I’ve won this round, because I’ve decided on my own to hand out candy instead of asking him if he wanted to go to one of his friends’ parties. But he’s so at peace right here next to me in his chair, telling every kid he loves their costume and increasing the odds that their parents will pay him to drill holes in their small mouths, that you’d think this was his plan instead of mine. He has a way of making me feel like that, like I’m just tagging along.

“I have a surprise for you,” he says finally. I look over to see that his eyes are closed. The tips of his ears and nose are red from the cold, and I watch his Adam’s apple work down a swallow.

He’s going to say something nasty next, so I don’t reply.

“Did you hear me?”

“Mm-hmm.” I stand up. I don’t want to hear what his surprise is. It’s a horse head in the sheets. He’s put asbestos in the sandwich I’m taking to work with me tomorrow. He’s gotten the dental hygienist pregnant. He’s breaking up with me. I’ve won, but he’s still kicking me out of the house. I have five minutes to gather my things before he calls the police.

“I’ll show you the surprise Friday after work.”

I go inside without responding. There’s no way I’m coming home Friday after work.



It’s November second. Friday. “Text me every hour,” Brandy urges. “If I don’t hear from you, I’m going to assume the worst, so Do. Not. Forget.”

It’s just Brandy and Leon with me here today. Zach has quit. He peered into his crystal ball weeks ago and saw the end was nigh, so he already had a new job lined up ready to go. Melissa has today scheduled off, and I bet it’s for a job interview. I’m a moron for not taking any precautionary measures.

The atmosphere is subdued. We’re scouring help wanted ads and promising to refer each other to our new bosses if we find anything good. Morris is a dead town, commercially speaking. Not bad for living in, but you’re going to have to commute to a better town to literally make your living. Half of us are going to end up moving to Beaufort, the next town over, to work at a dog food factory. The other half will move back in with their parents. None of us can decide which camp we’d rather fall into.

Brandy’s very emotional. She’s worried we’re all going to drift apart after this, and she’s probably right. I’ll stay in touch with Brandy, but I’m not sad about letting go of Melissa now that we aren’t friends anymore. Zach will likely move on at an offensive rate and forget any of us ever existed. He’s funny and whip-smart, but he’s also a prick half the time and uses his best qualities to be mean-spirited. He plays keep-away with my purse and will spend hours mimicking everything I say, even if I’m trying to ask him something important. Whenever I leave my phone sitting on the counter unlocked, he sends texts to my mom that say I’ve joined the army or I’m pregnant and don’t know who the father is.

Leon’s expressed an interest in buying the shop from the Howards and turning it into an outdoorsy restaurant. He’ll put a stuffed grizzly bear in the doorway where Homer Elvis used to stand sentry. “If either of you wants a job, I’ll hire you,” he tells us. “I want to get the restaurant up and running by spring.” We nod and say, “Sure, sure,” knowing it won’t happen.