“As far as I know,” I say.
“Well, is the ring in there?” Charles asks.
I stare at him, utter disbelief gripping me. I see red again, but this time, I doubt I can play nice. “What the hell do you mean? You want the ring back? You’ve been married for years. It’s her ring!”
“But we won’t be married anymore, and I want it back,” he says.
“You’re crazy if you think you’re getting that ring back,” I say.
“Look, it’s really none of your business,” he replies.
“Oh, but it is, Chuck. It is my business. And it’ll be a cold day in hell before you get that ring back, even if I have to melt it down and turn it into a tiny dildo myself,” I say.
“Dildo?” he repeats.
“Yeah, so you can go fuck yourself,” I say.
Gentry laughs, but Chuck doesn’t.
“I want that ring back,” Charles says in a hard tone. “I’m going to sell it. I have a right to it.”
I walk off the porch and straight up to him, squaring my shoulders again. My fists are back to being balled at my sides.
He looks like he wants to flinch. He takes half a step back, but it makes no difference.
“Now you listen to me, Charles. Listen really hard because I’m only going to say this once. You’re not getting that damn ring back. So, you can take your shit that’s on the porch and pack it into your car, or later, we can have a bonfire. It’s your choice. But I swear to all the gods, if my sister’s name or the mention of that ring comes out of your mouth one more time, I will knock you all the way back to when you had some fucking manners. Do we understand each other?” I ask him. I keep my eyes sharp and trained on him.
He gives a small nod.
“Charles, you can’t be serious?” This comment comes from the winner of theWorst Best Friend in the Worldaward.
I turn my attention to her now. “Andyou. You so much as even breathe the wrong way one more time, and I will level you so hard Charles will be picking gravel out of your ass all the way into next week.”
She gives me a challenging look, pressing her hand to her hip and studying me but finally thinking better of saying anything more. She crosses her arms over her chest and huffs, leaning back onto their car.
Over the next few minutes, Gentry and I watch Charles put box after box into his car, neither of us offering a helping hand. He’s a big boy; he can figure it out.
After he finishes with the boxes, he comes around the car and stands in front of us.
“You don’t understand, you know. What it was like,” he says.
Gentry and I exchange glances, not sure where Charles is headed with this.
“I was miserable with your sister,” he clarifies. “She made me miserable.”
I press my eyes closed, trying very hard not to swan dive off this porch onto him and break all the bones in his body.
“She’s insane,” Charles adds. “And at the same time, completely boring.”
With this comment, I know I can’t do it any longer. I press away from the column I’ve been leaning against, but Gentry calms me with a hand on my shoulder.
He gives me a look, one I don’t quite understand. Then he slowly steps off the porch toward Charles. “You know what, Chuck, I think we’ve had just about enough of your mouth to last a lifetime. So why don’t you take this last token of our appreciation and head on down the road?”
Charles looks at Gentry, confused. “Take what?”
At that, Gentry rears back and punches Charles right in the gut. Chuck doubles over in response, and Gentry takes this opportunity to knee him in the face. It all happens so quickly. I stand there in shock, unsure what to do. Gentry lets Charles fall to the ground. His mistress—who shall not be named—runs around the car to him, helping him up and into the car. But she says nothing. I’m sure she’s assumed she’d have it just as bad. She helps Charles to the passenger seat and then drives away.
“Sorry, I just really hate that guy,” Gentry says, turning back toward me and coming up the stairs of the porch.