Crazy People: The Crazy for You Stories by Jennifer Crusie Read Free Book Online Page B

threw it up to me, not once, and I loved you so much for that.
    And she said, “Debbie, honey, that was all twenty years ago, what has that son of a bitch done for you lately?” and while I was thinking of an answer, Darrin Mueller called and said you’d asked him to look in on me and make sure I was all right while you were out of town for a couple of weeks, and I knew you still cared about me, Ronnie. I knew you had to love me still, and that’s what I told Darla, and she looked like she wanted to say something but she didn’t.
    And then I had to go in to work because I had Leona Cooper’s perm to do at ten. And you don’t know how hard it was going in there, Ronnie, with all those other hairdressers, not knowing whether they knew or didn’t know, especially with my own sister at the station next to me doing a cellophane on Doris Weber, the biggest mouth in town. And then little old Leona, bless her heart, said the same thing she’s been saying to me for twenty years, “Kink it up good, Debbie Jo, you know I like it kinky,” and I thought about how hard you’d laughed when I’d told you that that was what she always said, and how you’d said that little old Leona wouldn’t know kinky if it bit her on the butt, and I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. And I got so rattled that I almost forgot her Roux rinse except she always says, “Now don’t you forget my Roux, Debbie, it’s Winter Wheat,” and she did this time, too, so I didn’t. But it was a hard, hard day, Ronnie. It truly was.
    Then Darla came over to the house after work and was really nice again, which was even harder because you know Darla, it takes a lot to make her nice, so I knew she really felt bad for me. She said I could stay with her and Max, that Max said I was his sister, too, and that I could move right in anytime, and I thought that was really sweet, but I don’t want to, Ronnie. I want to be here with you where I’ve been for twenty-six years, and this is where you belong, too. I don’t think I even know who I am if I’m not married to you since I’ve been that for over half my life. Like Mama always says, women are meant to be married and, Ronnie, I was meant for you. And I don’t know what I’m going to say to Ronnie Jr. and Becky (you know she thinks you walk on water, Ronnie, and I truly do not know how you could do this to your only daughter, especially the first week she’s away at college again and not having her family with her, I truly don’t). And then there’s Mama. I just can’t hardly stand thinking about it.
    But I am trying to be understanding, so what I thought was that maybe this is just one of those mid-life crisises. Maybe this is just you afraid you’re getting old and the good times are over, and I know what you mean, Ronnie, because some nights when we’re both sitting on the sectional, watching the news and hearing about how the Bengals have screwed up again, and you’re telling me that they’re a damn good team and that they’re going to get it together soon, sometimes then I wonder what happened to us, and how much fun we used to be, and why we aren’t any more, and why you care more about the Bengals than you do about me. Remember how we used to talk all night sometimes, Ronnie? We were so excited about us. And we didn’t always just talk, either. And there was that night we did it in the backyard even though the neighbors could’ve seen if they wanted to, and I don’t care what you say, I think Mr. Armstrong did see because he always winked when he saw me after that. But we haven’t done anything like that for so long that I almost think I might have forgot how to do it any way but flat on my back counting ceiling tiles. And I can see how you might think so, too, even though I was something hot once and I still have everything now that I did then, even if it hasn’t been getting much use lately. And I know Mama would say that isn’t important, but it is if a marriage is going to