Read Online Daddy Love by Joyce Carol Oates - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joyce Carol Oates
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At the medical clinic, they’re cutting back the cafeteria hours. So I got more time.
That’s too bad, Darlene. I mean—your work-hours cut.
It’s this God-damn economy. You can’t save a penny. I got “credit card debt”—it’s serious.
I’ll be calling you, Darlene. Maybe not next week, but the next.
She was a big-bodied female of about thirty-five. Fleshy-muscled upper arms, muscled (bare) calves, and on her feet flimsy flip-flops. Her streaked-blond hair was long and thick as a horse’s mane and tied up around her head in a way you had to suppose the woman thought might be gypsy-glamorous. Her face was round as a full moon, and pug-nosed. Red lipstick on Darlene Barnhauser was like lipstick on a pig but it gave her a look of sexy-girlish insolence. And she had a smudged-looking rose tattoo on her right shoulder. She lived about three miles away in the village of Kittatinny Falls, on the River Road. Since Chet had last seen Darlene, about ninemonths before, she’d put on weight; though she wasn’t fat or in any way soft or flaccid and she was impressively strong—she’d gone to fetch the stepladder in the old barn and carried it into the house by herself.
She’d laughed with good-natured disgust, on her knees cleaning beneath the sink, reaching to pull out, with rubber-gloved hands, a desiccated rodent-corpse.
Oh, man! Like it’s some kind of mauzzo-leum in here!—she’d laughed to draw Chet Cash’s attention. (Chet was sweeping the front hall. Chet wasn’t given to on-your-knees housecleaning.)
Chet didn’t like it, Darlene never properly dressed for housecleaning, or manual labor. Like it was a matter of female pride. A big husky girl in flowery T-shirt and pink stretch-waist slacks, that were now covered in cobwebs and dirt. She’d sweated through her clothes. Her pug-nose shone with grease. But she’d done a good job and Chet would probably call her again.
She was saying now, wistfully: Y’know, Chet—we missed you. Lots of us. Like at church, it really felt sad and kind of empty when you were gone. Rev’nd Prentiss could feel it too. Like, some kind of
spirit had departed
from our midst.
I missed you all too, Darlene. But it couldn’t be helped.
I’d drive out here sometimes, just to check on the house. Make sure nobody’d broke into it, like kids vandalizing places where nobody lives. It’s not a bad place. Even all gone wild like it is, and the apple orchard wrecked from last winter …
Her voice trailed off. Chet Cash was instructing himself
Be patient. She will leave in one minute.
Saying, in a flat not-encouraging voice, OK, Darlene. Good to hear it.
See, it just needs some painting, and the roof repaired. And that stone chimney kind of going to pieces. My brother-in-law Lyle, he’s a real good carpenter. He could help you, if you wanted. You want his cell phone?
Thanks, Darlene. Maybe when I get settled.
This linoleum floor in the kitchen isn’t bad, is it? Once you get the grime out. And the bathtub, and toilet—I got most of the stains out. Looked like some kind of small rodent died in the toilet, the size of the bones … It just takes work, and not getting discouraged.
Chet Cash smiled harder. Saying, Maybe.
Anybody coming to stay with you? Like—family?
Maybe.
Nostradamus?
No. Nostradamus is with his mother.
I never met her! Where’s she takin him?
Upper Peninsula, Michigan. She’s got family there.
That’s too bad! He’s a real polite nice boy.
He was.
You and her—you’re, like, separated? Divorced?
Chet Cash smiled harder. Chet Cash said not a word.
His stone-colored eyes on the woman’s face.
One more minute. You have one more minute, Darlene.
So badly wanting to grab the woman around the neck, squeeze and
squeeze.
He’d bury her with the others. Mile and a half he’d have to drag her, and he’d have to be shoveling a fucking grave for her, and he had no energy for such an ordeal so soon after the long drive from Michigan. And her
That’s too bad, Darlene. I mean—your work-hours cut.
It’s this God-damn economy. You can’t save a penny. I got “credit card debt”—it’s serious.
I’ll be calling you, Darlene. Maybe not next week, but the next.
She was a big-bodied female of about thirty-five. Fleshy-muscled upper arms, muscled (bare) calves, and on her feet flimsy flip-flops. Her streaked-blond hair was long and thick as a horse’s mane and tied up around her head in a way you had to suppose the woman thought might be gypsy-glamorous. Her face was round as a full moon, and pug-nosed. Red lipstick on Darlene Barnhauser was like lipstick on a pig but it gave her a look of sexy-girlish insolence. And she had a smudged-looking rose tattoo on her right shoulder. She lived about three miles away in the village of Kittatinny Falls, on the River Road. Since Chet had last seen Darlene, about ninemonths before, she’d put on weight; though she wasn’t fat or in any way soft or flaccid and she was impressively strong—she’d gone to fetch the stepladder in the old barn and carried it into the house by herself.
She’d laughed with good-natured disgust, on her knees cleaning beneath the sink, reaching to pull out, with rubber-gloved hands, a desiccated rodent-corpse.
Oh, man! Like it’s some kind of mauzzo-leum in here!—she’d laughed to draw Chet Cash’s attention. (Chet was sweeping the front hall. Chet wasn’t given to on-your-knees housecleaning.)
Chet didn’t like it, Darlene never properly dressed for housecleaning, or manual labor. Like it was a matter of female pride. A big husky girl in flowery T-shirt and pink stretch-waist slacks, that were now covered in cobwebs and dirt. She’d sweated through her clothes. Her pug-nose shone with grease. But she’d done a good job and Chet would probably call her again.
She was saying now, wistfully: Y’know, Chet—we missed you. Lots of us. Like at church, it really felt sad and kind of empty when you were gone. Rev’nd Prentiss could feel it too. Like, some kind of
spirit had departed
from our midst.
I missed you all too, Darlene. But it couldn’t be helped.
I’d drive out here sometimes, just to check on the house. Make sure nobody’d broke into it, like kids vandalizing places where nobody lives. It’s not a bad place. Even all gone wild like it is, and the apple orchard wrecked from last winter …
Her voice trailed off. Chet Cash was instructing himself
Be patient. She will leave in one minute.
Saying, in a flat not-encouraging voice, OK, Darlene. Good to hear it.
See, it just needs some painting, and the roof repaired. And that stone chimney kind of going to pieces. My brother-in-law Lyle, he’s a real good carpenter. He could help you, if you wanted. You want his cell phone?
Thanks, Darlene. Maybe when I get settled.
This linoleum floor in the kitchen isn’t bad, is it? Once you get the grime out. And the bathtub, and toilet—I got most of the stains out. Looked like some kind of small rodent died in the toilet, the size of the bones … It just takes work, and not getting discouraged.
Chet Cash smiled harder. Saying, Maybe.
Anybody coming to stay with you? Like—family?
Maybe.
Nostradamus?
No. Nostradamus is with his mother.
I never met her! Where’s she takin him?
Upper Peninsula, Michigan. She’s got family there.
That’s too bad! He’s a real polite nice boy.
He was.
You and her—you’re, like, separated? Divorced?
Chet Cash smiled harder. Chet Cash said not a word.
His stone-colored eyes on the woman’s face.
One more minute. You have one more minute, Darlene.
So badly wanting to grab the woman around the neck, squeeze and
squeeze.
He’d bury her with the others. Mile and a half he’d have to drag her, and he’d have to be shoveling a fucking grave for her, and he had no energy for such an ordeal so soon after the long drive from Michigan. And her
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