Read Online Crazy People: The Crazy for You Stories by Jennifer Crusie - Free Book Online
Authors: Jennifer Crusie
Tags: FICTION / Short Stories
Ads: Link
don’t.
I really worry about you with Barbara, Ronnie. She’s got that skinny pinched look that says she doesn’t know much about making a man happy. Like if you asked her to tie you to the headboard the way we used to do way back in the beginning, she’d probably use clothesline instead of that cotton piping cord for seventy-nine cents a yard at JoAnn Fabrics that doesn’t bind or cut off the circulation. And she’d probably tie that clothesline too tight, and all the blood would leave your hands, and they’d turn white and blue and black and fall right off at the wrists, and she wouldn’t even notice when they plopped down there on the percale because she’d have her eyes shut tight since she probably doesn’t like to look at naked men like I do. That would be a terrible thing to have happen to you, Ronnie. It pains me to think about it. And I really can’t leave you to suffer like that with Barbara, even if, as Darla says, you are a son of a bitch to have moved in with her in the first place. You’re my husband, after all.
So I’ve been sitting here, thinking about how you need rescued, and I picked up my Victoria’s Secret sale catalog, and right now I am looking at the Lara demi-bra in black scalloped lace on page thirty-two, along with the matching black lace bikini and the black lace garter belt and the black spandex stockings, seeing as how I can get them all for only $39.45 plus shipping and handling. And I think Mama’s wrong about those hot lunches, but I think she might be right about you not getting what you need at home because I haven’t been getting it, either. So what I think I’m going to do is, I’m going to show up at the bowling alley at closing time a week from Monday when you’ve got back from Mackinac and you’re all alone doing the receipts in the office, and I’m going to be wearing that black lace and my Spiegel’s trench coat, and then I’m going to open my coat and show you my Lara demi-bra and garter belt. I know I’ve put on a few pounds over the years, but I still have one of the finest butts in Tibbett, Ohio, and I am a D-cup, as you well know. And I know what you’re going to do when you see that demi-bra with me in it, Ronnie, because I have known you for a long time, and I don’t care how old I am, I can still make you come crawling to me any time I want, don’t you think I can’t. And then later on, when we’re back together, and I know we will be, Ronnie Luterbein, I’m going to show you this letter just so you know I always had you the whole time no matter what you thought.
Still your wife,
Debbie Luterbein
PPS: I didn’t order that demi-bra, Ronnie.
I almost did, my hand was right there on the phone Wednesday night, getting ready to dial, but then I thought about you and that Barbara, and I started to cry again, and I couldn’t see to dial, so I got myself a couple of beers out of the fridge (and you know I don’t drink so you know how upset I was), and I took those beers into the bedroom, and I crawled into bed, and I decided I’d drink until I couldn’t see anything anymore.
But the thing is, Ronnie, after a couple of beers, instead of not seeing anything, I could see a lot of things. Yes, I could. I fell asleep seeing a whole lot of things, and I kept on drinking and thinking the rest of the week and the weekend, and now it’s Sunday night, and I’ve had a couple of beers for dinner, and I am seeing a whole hell of a lot more things, Ronnie.
For one thing, I do not deserve this. I am a good woman and a damn fine hairdresser, the only hairdresser in the tri-county area who can use a marcelle iron which is why Elizabeth Crider comes all the way in from Celina to have me do her hair once a week. That’s how good I am. And last week at the salon, seven different clients said, “Don’t you leave us and move away just because that rat skunk Ronnie ran out on you, Debbie.” They all said that because they need me to do their hair, and that’s
I really worry about you with Barbara, Ronnie. She’s got that skinny pinched look that says she doesn’t know much about making a man happy. Like if you asked her to tie you to the headboard the way we used to do way back in the beginning, she’d probably use clothesline instead of that cotton piping cord for seventy-nine cents a yard at JoAnn Fabrics that doesn’t bind or cut off the circulation. And she’d probably tie that clothesline too tight, and all the blood would leave your hands, and they’d turn white and blue and black and fall right off at the wrists, and she wouldn’t even notice when they plopped down there on the percale because she’d have her eyes shut tight since she probably doesn’t like to look at naked men like I do. That would be a terrible thing to have happen to you, Ronnie. It pains me to think about it. And I really can’t leave you to suffer like that with Barbara, even if, as Darla says, you are a son of a bitch to have moved in with her in the first place. You’re my husband, after all.
So I’ve been sitting here, thinking about how you need rescued, and I picked up my Victoria’s Secret sale catalog, and right now I am looking at the Lara demi-bra in black scalloped lace on page thirty-two, along with the matching black lace bikini and the black lace garter belt and the black spandex stockings, seeing as how I can get them all for only $39.45 plus shipping and handling. And I think Mama’s wrong about those hot lunches, but I think she might be right about you not getting what you need at home because I haven’t been getting it, either. So what I think I’m going to do is, I’m going to show up at the bowling alley at closing time a week from Monday when you’ve got back from Mackinac and you’re all alone doing the receipts in the office, and I’m going to be wearing that black lace and my Spiegel’s trench coat, and then I’m going to open my coat and show you my Lara demi-bra and garter belt. I know I’ve put on a few pounds over the years, but I still have one of the finest butts in Tibbett, Ohio, and I am a D-cup, as you well know. And I know what you’re going to do when you see that demi-bra with me in it, Ronnie, because I have known you for a long time, and I don’t care how old I am, I can still make you come crawling to me any time I want, don’t you think I can’t. And then later on, when we’re back together, and I know we will be, Ronnie Luterbein, I’m going to show you this letter just so you know I always had you the whole time no matter what you thought.
Still your wife,
Debbie Luterbein
PPS: I didn’t order that demi-bra, Ronnie.
I almost did, my hand was right there on the phone Wednesday night, getting ready to dial, but then I thought about you and that Barbara, and I started to cry again, and I couldn’t see to dial, so I got myself a couple of beers out of the fridge (and you know I don’t drink so you know how upset I was), and I took those beers into the bedroom, and I crawled into bed, and I decided I’d drink until I couldn’t see anything anymore.
But the thing is, Ronnie, after a couple of beers, instead of not seeing anything, I could see a lot of things. Yes, I could. I fell asleep seeing a whole lot of things, and I kept on drinking and thinking the rest of the week and the weekend, and now it’s Sunday night, and I’ve had a couple of beers for dinner, and I am seeing a whole hell of a lot more things, Ronnie.
For one thing, I do not deserve this. I am a good woman and a damn fine hairdresser, the only hairdresser in the tri-county area who can use a marcelle iron which is why Elizabeth Crider comes all the way in from Celina to have me do her hair once a week. That’s how good I am. And last week at the salon, seven different clients said, “Don’t you leave us and move away just because that rat skunk Ronnie ran out on you, Debbie.” They all said that because they need me to do their hair, and that’s
Similar Books
