Ann Beattie - Chilly Scenes of Winter

“They had fed it. They said to try again tonight. When they’re scared they like to eat.”

“The dog doesn’t seem scared.”

“I didn’t think so either. That’s good, huh?”

“Yeah,” Charles says. He pats the dog. He has nothing else to do, so he goes into the living room.

“Betty was saying that she worked in a bank with a woman who grew up with Mandel’s new wife.”

“She let everybody know she was her friend, too,” Betty says. “She brought it up all the time and said she didn’t think it was scandalous.”

“That’s liberal of her,” Sam says.

“That’s just the way she put it: ‘I don’t think Jeanne’s romance with the Governor is at all scandalous,’ she said. She quit after training just like I did.”

“What’s it like looking at all that money?” Sam says.

“After a while you forget it means anything. It was depressing because I’d look at my paycheck I’d worked for and think that it meant nothing,”

“Must be strange,” Charles says.

“I thought I’d like the hours, but you always end up staying late.”

“You know what?” Sam says, looking at Charles. “I forgot to drive you to work so I could have the car.”

“Tomorrow,” Charles says.

“Or maybe I could just take it later tonight. Do it tonight. I haven’t done anything all day.”

“That’s a good idea. After we drop Betty off I can come help you.”

“You were living in an apartment?” Betty says.

“Yeah. A real dump.”

“It’s nice you can stay here,” Betty says. “It is. There’s not a bug in the whole place. How come you don’t have bugs?”

“I don’t know. It’s not too dirty.”

“I guess bugs are mostly in apartments. I swear to God, if you left a glass of water out overnight, you’d find something floating in it in the morning.”

Betty makes a face. “My apartment is pretty clean,” she says.

“I’d rather have bugs than rats, though,” Sam says.

“Don’t talk about it before dinner,” Charles says.

Betty laughs.

They eat in the dining room with four white candles burning in a wooden candle holder Susan gave him for his birthday. The dinner is good. They concentrate on eating because they have run out of things to say to each other. Ry Cooder’s “Paradise and Lunch” plays. It is not exactly dinner music, but Amy has gone out the window, so what the hell. Ry Cooder is doing a splendid job of “Mexican Divorce.”

“Have you ever been to Mexico?” Betty asks.

“I’ve never been anywhere,” Sam says.

“No,” Charles shakes his head.

“I went there when I was ten. I bought a stuffed armadillo. At customs they opened it underneath with a jackknife. They sewed it back up, but they did a sloppy job. That was traumatic, to have my toy taken away and sliced open.”

“Drugs, huh?” Charles says.

“I guess.”

“What’s it like in Mexico?” Sam asks.

“I don’t remember too well because I was so young. I just remember things like what the children looked like, and all the fruit stands.”

“It would be great to have money to take a vacation,” Sam says. Bermuda.…

He has forgotten to buy dessert. They go back to the living room, where the dog is sleeping. There is a small puddle on the floor by the lamp. Sam gets a sponge and wipes it up.

“You’re a nice puppy,” Betty says, patting it.

“Think of a name for him,” Sam says.

“I can’t think of anything,” Betty says. She looks proud of herself for not being able to think, the way Marilyn Monroe always smiled in the movies when she was apologetic.

“Did you two meet in college?” Betty asks.

“Grade school. A long time ago.”

“That’s amazing. You’ve known each other that long and you still like each other?”

“Yeah,” Charles shrugs.

“I was friends with a girl since we were sixteen, but lately we’re so different that we don’t get along. She married a stockbroker.”

Sam gets on the floor and plays with the dog.

“That was a very good dinner,” Betty says. “Thank you.”

After another half hour of awkward conversation (damn — he should have bought two of those big bottles of Coke) Betty says that she should go home.

“You don’t mind if I ride along?” Sam says.

“Of course not,” Betty says.

On the ride to her apartment Sam sits in the back. Betty wanted to sit back there, and both kept insisting until finally Sam pushed her aside and climbed in. Charles felt sorry for her, trying to act like one of the guys, to act indifferent. He thinks she is starting to like him again. He looks quickly at her legs. They are so fat. She is so plain. They have nothing to talk about. He knew it would be this way.

“What do you hear from Laura?” he asks, going around the circle. It is the same circle the old man shook his stick in, the circle he rode around with Laura.

“Oh, that’s right You know Laura. I was over at her apartment a couple of nights ago for spaghetti.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“She asked me over for dinner. What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t you say her apartment?”

Betty nods.

“But she lives in a house.”

“Oh. I told you she was living with her husband, didn’t I? She’s moved out, into an apartment She seems pretty unhappy about it because of the little girl. Did you ever meet her? She brought her to work one day.”

He has pulled over. He is shaking his head back and forth.

“What’s wrong?” Betty says.

“She can’t have moved. Where did she move to?”

“A place not far from where I’m living. I forget the name of the street”

“You’re kidding me. You have to be kidding me.”

“I didn’t know you knew her so well.”

“Yeah. I do know her well.”

Sam sighs loudly in the back seat.

“Sam,” Charles says. “Laura left him. And she didn’t call.”

“She’ll call,” Sam says mechanically.

Betty turns around and looks at Sam. She looks at Charles.

“Did I say something wrong?” she says.

“No, you … I had no idea she wasn’t still with him. What happened?”

“We didn’t talk much about it I didn’t want to press her. She was just there in this apartment, and she said she’d left him.”

“Was she all right?”

“Sure. She was all right” Betty gives him a funny look. His foot has gone dead, and he doesn’t think he can drive. He tries the gas pedal. The car starts off.

“Is there a phone? Do you have her number?”

“It’s unlisted,” Betty says. “I’ve got it somewhere.”

“Can you get it? Can you give it to me right now?”

Of course she can’t give it to him right then. They are driving down a street. Very fast, as a matter of fact He checks in the rearview mirror for cops, sees Sam shaking his head.

“Oh my God. She’s left him and I didn’t even know. She didn’t even tell me.”

Betty looks very uncomfortable. She looks out the window.

“That next street is mine. No — past the stop sign.”

He turns.

“Which building?” he says. “The last one on the right”

“Betty, don’t forget to find that number.”

“I’ll look for it,” she says.

“You can find it, can’t you?”

“I’ll give it to you tomorrow,” she says.

He wants it that second.

“Thank you,” he says. “Please find it.”

“I will,” she says. “Good night.”

Betty doesn’t look at him. She gets out and runs toward her apartment, and he sits there, in a daze, knowing he should have escorted her, but his legs are feeling too funny to walk on them. What’s the matter with Betty?

“Sam? What’s the matter with her?”