Page 13 of Beside the Rolling Waves
She wasn’t sure why he lived in Michigan. He should have migrated to a warmer climate long ago, as much as he complained about the cold.
“Man. It’s colder than a preacher’s wife on Saturday night,” he said as she got in.
“It is chilly,” she said. Rick was not Rodney. She and Rodney had intellectual discussions that were stimulating and fun, they got each other’s humor, and they gently teased each other while never being derogatory toward each other. She had loved their interactions and the friendship they shared.
She would not necessarily call Rick a friend, although she knew if she needed him, she could call him. He might not come, but he was definitely someone she could call.
She didn’t particularly enjoy talking to him, and they didn’t share any of the same interests. He didn’t care for her Clydesdales at all. If he liked any horses, they were quarter horses and had to do with the rodeo, although he wasn’t really a rodeo guy. He was a truck dude. And he was good at what he did. He was a mechanic, and he worked on other people’s trucks as well as his own. He wasn’t afraid to work, she would give him that. But he also played hard.
Even as she said it, she knew she was just kidding herself. Rick wasn’t her friend. He wasn’t even an almost boyfriend. He was just the best she thought she could do. After Rodney ditched her, she realized that she really never had another friend like him. She was too…caustic? Determined? Tough?
Something like that. She intimidated men and wasn’t all that lovable. So, when Rick showed a little bit of interest, she jumped at the opportunity. Certainly it was the best she was going to get.
There. That was the honest truth.
“I can’t wait to go. Last week, it was canceled because of the snow, and the rematch between the Green Machine and Buzzyear Blue Boy has been a long time coming. Lavoie just got his machine back up and running last week.”
“Oh,” she said, not really caring but not knowing how to answer him.
He rambled on, and on and on, and she didn’t really have to worry about saying much till they got to the track.
The bleachers were out in the open, and she supposed that’s why the alcohol sales were so good. It was hard to sit there in the cold and dark stone-cold sober.
“You got a problem with driving home, darlin’?” Rick asked as he pulled out a can of snuff and settled a pinch in his cheek.
“No. I can do that,” she said.
She yanked her door handle and remembered just in time that the drop was much bigger than just a little step. She grabbed a hold of the handle and slid to the ground.
“Hey, babe, I’m a little low this week. Would you pay to get us in? If you don’t, I’m not going to have enough for the alcohol I’m going to need in order to stay warm tonight.” He grinned at her. “Unless you want to keep me warm.” His voice dropped a little, and she was shaking her head no before he even stopped talking. Mostly to disguise the disgusting shiver that went through her.
“No, that’s okay. Okay.”
She had her wallet tucked inside her coat pocket, but she’d done that more out of habit than thinking that she was going to need to use it tonight.
Her credit card was maxed out, but she had enough in her checking account to cover the feed she had been planning on buying the next day.
She did some quick calculations in her head, and if she didn’t eat anything at all tonight and didn’t spend any money at the diner when she met with Rodney on Wednesday, she would just be a dollar short.
It would cost her thirty-five dollars if she overdrew her account, and she hated to do that for just a dollar, but…she wasn’t sure what else to do.
“Do you have a dollar in quarters in your ashtray?” she asked as they walked toward the ticket booth.
“Probably. I just threw some change in there. Although, I don’t usually pay with cash too much anymore.”
“Do you mind if I grab four quarters out later?”
He didn’t even ask why. He just put an arm around her and jiggled her, kind of roughly. “Sure, babe. Anything for you.”
He said that, but she knew it as sure as she was standing there that he didn’t mean it.
She would feel ridiculous going to the bank and putting four quarters in her account, but…that was better than the thirty-five-dollar overdraft fee.
Satisfied that she could do it, she got her debit card out and paid for their tickets, and then waited while Rick bought himself a supersized beer, plus the extra-large nachos with cheese, and a bowl of chili.
“Hey, babe. I can’t carry all this. Can you get the nachos?” He grinned at her. “I’ll not ask you to hold my beer.” He laughed, like it was funny. She thought there might be some kind of social cues in there that were supposed to be humorous, but it went over her head.
“Sure,” she said, coming over and taking the nachos from him.
