Chances Are by Richard Russo

Author:Richard Russo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Allen & Unwin

Teddy

Teddy returned from Gay Head both physically exhausted from the long bike ride and emotionally spent from his conversation with Theresa. Unburdening himself to her was painful, though not as devastating as it had been with Jacy a lifetime ago, perhaps because he wasn’t that kid anymore, but also because Theresa hadn’t reacted as he’d anticipated. With kindness, yes, because that was her nature, but he’d also expected intrusive curiosity (When was the last time you saw a specialist? Have you tried Viagra?) and maybe even pushback (But there were things we could’ve …). Instead she’d waited patiently until he was finished and then said only that she wished he’d somehow found it in himself to trust her. By behaving as if the only way for souls to touch was through muscle and tissue and blood, he’d denied them both the intimacy of sharing, honesty and understanding. When he began explaining that he’d been trying to protect her from profound disappointment, she said, “Sorry. Too late.”

When Teddy climbed off the bike and put it back in the shed, Mickey’s Harley was lying right where it tipped over that morning. He half expected to find him still snoring on the sofa, but instead he was outside on the deck talking on his cell. The sliding glass door was shut, but not completely. “I haven’t forgotten,” Teddy heard him say. “I know you need the money.” Catching sight of him inside, Mickey waved, then turned his back and continued, his voice lowered.

Not wanting to eavesdrop, Teddy sat down at the kitchen table and took out his own phone. He’d noticed a Trump sign in Troyer’s front yard when he rode by and wondered if Lincoln had seen it. Probably not, since it wasn’t visible from the deck. Care to guess, he texted, which (need I say) Republican candidate your friendly neighbor supports?

Mickey’s voice, louder now, was audible again. “I don’t know what to tell you, Delia, except I’ll be back on Monday and we can talk about it then. Okay?”

Delia? Teddy thought. They hadn’t heard about any Delia, had they? Was it possible Mickey had married again and never told them? Well, it’d be just like him. He’d gotten married twice before in spur-of-the-moment civil ceremonies, though Teddy and Lincoln hadn’t heard about either union until the divorces were final. “I need to stop meeting girls in bars” was the only explanation he’d offered. To which Lincoln replied, “Where else do you go?”

Mickey’d conceded, “See, that’s the thing.”

When Teddy joined him out on the deck, Mickey was glaring at his phone as if he was considering giving it a good, long toss, then said, “Do you have any reception out here?”

“One bar.”

Disgusted, Mickey stuffed the cell in his pocket. “That’s what I had until I lost it.”

“Everything okay?”

“More or less,” he said. “You know, I figured by the time I was sixty-six I’d have my own dedicated barstool somewhere and be paying for my beer with social security.”

“You’re not on social security?”

“I am, but it’s a funny thing.

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