Chapters (14)
“Ah, Vinny,” he said, and sat down again. The chair creaked again. It sounded like a bird squawking. He kept looking at me.
“What?” I said.
“Little Vinchi,” he said. I didn’t say anything. “Isn’t that what I used to call you?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“O.K., whatever. Don’t get excited. What happened to my hat?”
Denise leaned over and kissed his biceps. “It’s behind you,” she said.
Dave crumpled the tissue up and threw it over his shoulder onto the floor.
WE HAD A last, quiet dinner that night, of all the tasty leftovers. Monday morning I packed up. On my way out, I saw they had wheeled one of those beautiful new chaises to the front of the house. Dave said it was mine. I don’t know what I did to deserve it. He helped me strap it to the roof of my car. He said they didn’t need six. I put the cushions in the trunk, careful not to get any dirt on them. Of everything I owned, this would be my nicest possession. Then we all said good-bye in the driveway.
I cruised up the Garden State Parkway. It was sunny and hot out, with that beautiful chair above me, shuddering in the wind. I kept looking up to make sure it was still there. When I got home, I put the new chair in my apartment, next to a table with a plant on it. Then I sat down and wrote my brother a note. The chair was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and I said so. I thought of them, down there, going to the doctors. At last, after all these years, I knew more about Dave than I wanted to.
KIFFANY AND I finally broke up permanently. When I think about it now, it seems normal to be away from her, but I haven’t stopped loving her yet, and that’s a pain in the ass. Probably the best thing to do is scope out somebody else, and try to make it different this time. I’ve walked by Kiffany’s every day, to and from work. I’ve seen guys’ cars in her driveway, and I’ve thought about going over there with a real gun—maybe I’d put on camouflage face paint and boots, some cologne for effect, walk right in there and shoot them in the middle of their beaujolais. But what’s that? Definitely not love in a derivative form.
At work we stayed away from each other, and then, a few months ago, her whole department moved across the street. It’s over now between us, and that’s the best anybody can hope for.