| |
Joy hadn’t forgotten her apartment keys in a long time. But this morning she was so wiped out that she could forgive herself for this mistake.
The problem was that her car keys were on the same ring as her apartment keys so she’d have to see Russ, the apartment manager and ask his assistance.
Russ was an okay guy. Overweight, never able to tuck in his t-shirt — it was always some rock ’n roll shirt with a band from the 1970s or 80s screen printed on the front — and he was starting to do a combover on top, but Russ had turned out to be a decent human being.
A few years ago before Joy and Amanda made a name for themselves, he’d been a real prick to Joy. Russ seemed to relish the mornings when she’d have to ask him to let her into the apartment to retrieve her keys. But one morning when she was with Amanda, both of them delayed by her forgetfulness, Joy had seen the light — with Amanda’s help.
“He’s hot for you,” Amanda said as Joy started her 2006 Kia Rio, bright red when it was new, dingy and dinged up now, but it was reliable, as long as the door locks didn’t freeze in the winter.
“Oh, be real!”
“I am not kidding.”
“He’s a fucking jerk,” Joy said as she blew the Kia’s horn at one of the idiots who was driving too slow. Everybody slower than her was a moron. People who drove too fast were jackasses. That was Joy’s rule of the road. The guy who was the recipient of her horn blast of the moment was not driving all that slow, but the horn made a nice punctuation point for Joy’s frustration with Russ.
“You’re right, he is. But he’s only a jerk ‘cuz he’s trying too hard.”
It turned out, Amanda was correct. Russ was still kind of a nerd, but wasn’t Joy all about that? Believe it or not — oh God, Joy could sense Amanda’s smirk if she admitted this — but Russ was a decent guy. He might even make an interesting remodeling challenging for a woman someday, Joy thought. Those t-shirts would be the first thing to go and forget the combover Russ; it doesn't fool anyone.
Of course, she hadn't gone that far, yet.
Russ smiled when Joy came into his office door. They hadn't seen each other for months. It had been a long time since she had forgotten her keys and Russ had run out of excuses to bump into her at the apartment complex. They had seen each other a couple of times at St. Isidore Gamer, the game shop downtown, and had spoken, but Russ wanted more.
So rather than acting the jerk — he’d been reading some self-improvement books that would be better categorized as ‘wishful thinking’ — Russ felt like he was ready when Joy walked into his office.
She didn’t say a word. They both smiled and laughed as Russ got his master key set out, opened his office door for Joy and walked her back to her apartment.
The silence was comforting. Joy felt good walking beside Russ. It wasn’t like they had any relationship besides that of tenant-apartment manager. Still, there was something about this guy, Joy thought, that was warm and cozy. And she liked warm and comfortable,
“Here you go,” Russ said as he opened her door. He did it very gallantly, Joy thought. It had been eons since any man had treated her like this. It is the little things that count, right?
She hesitated for a moment, standing in the doorway, with Russ’ arm stretched out, still holding the door knob. They were standing face to face, Joy breathing a bit heavier than she would have liked, as she licked her lower lip and said, “Coffee?”
Russ smiled and said, “Thank you." His encounter with Joy was going much better than he had imagined. Russ had wanted to talk to her for some time. There was something on his mind.
He’d never been comfortable with the girls in school or the women in the apartment complex. Russ had never been smooth with anyone, male or female, but he felt good with Joy. It wasn’t a warm, cozy, comfortable feeling like it was when his mother came to visit. No, this was different. It was toastier than warm, nearly hot, as a matter of fact. For the first time in almost forever, Russ didn’t feel like a fat boob.
They sat at the small, three-chair breakfast nook table in Joy’s apartment and made small talk. Russ told her what it was like growing up in St. Isidore, she talked about her dreams, and he spoke of his.
But there was an awkward pause in the conversation. After the recitation of each other's resumes, it was time to talk about something more important; at least that’s how Russ felt.
“I guess you’re looking into David Van Holt, the guy who used to hang with that woman who runs the Coffee Shoppe,” Russ said.
Joy had been hoping for more. She too had felt like the pause in their sentences should be the opening of a new chapter. You don’t always get what you want, Joy realized.
She shifted into a semi-reporter mode, smiled, and waited for more.
“You know, he loved her, David did,” Russ said speaking in a machine gun, rapid fire cadence that caught Joy’s interest. She sat up straighter and touched Russ’ hand. Joy sensed that Russ had something important to share.
“Everybody in town was laughing at David because he was refusing to leave Mary Eileen’s apartment after their divorce. But, he couldn’t leave. He had no one else. David loved her so much that he just thought if he hung on, if he toughed it out, she would fall back in love with him.”
Joy squeezed Russ’ hand. They were talking about love. She knew that Russ must want love as badly as David had desired Mary Eileen’s affection. To want something so bad, Joy understood completely, yet never have a chance to win it, could burn a brand on your heart. She felt it almost every day.
“What do you think happened to him?”
Russ shrugged.
“He didn’t just leave on his own, that’s for sure. David would never leave Mary Eileen Sullivan. She was all he had.”