What We Talk About When We Talk About Love: Stories by Raymond Carver Read Free Book Online Page A

to Gleed, Jerry driving. The day was sunny and warm, and air blew through the car.
    "Where we headed?" Bill said.
    "Let's shoot a few balls."
    "Fine with me," Bill said. He felt a whole lot better just seeing Jerry brighten up.
    "Guy's got to get out," Jerry said. He looked at Bill. "You know what I mean?"
    Bill understood. He liked to get out with the guys from the plant for the Friday-night bowling league. He liked to stop off twice a week after work to have a few beers with Jack Broderick. He knew a guy's got to get out.
    "Still standing," Jerry said, as they pulled up onto the gravel in front of the Rec Center.
    They went inside, Bill holding the door for Jerry, Jerry punching Bill lightly in the stomach as he went on by.
    "Hey there!"
    It was Riley.
    "Hey, how you boys keeping?"
    It was Riley coming around from behind the counter,
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    Tell the Women We're Going
    grinning. He was a heavy man. He had on a short-sleeved Hawaiian shirt that hung outside his jeans. Riley said, "So how you boys been keeping?"
    "Ah, dry up and give us a couple of Olys," Jerry said, winking at Bill. "So how you been, Riley?" Jerry said.
    Riley said, "So how you boys doing? Where you been keeping yourselves? You boys getting any on the side? Jerry, the last time I seen you, your old lady was six months gone."
    Jerry stood a minute and blinked his eyes.
    "So how about the Olys?" Bill said.
    They took stools near the window. Jerry said, "What kind of place is this, Riley, that it don't have any girls on a Sunday afternoon?"
    Riley laughed. He said, "I guess they're all in church praying for it."
    They each had five cans of beer and took two hours to play three racks of rotation and two racks of snooker, Riley sitting on a stool and talking and watching them play, Bill always looking at his watch and then looking at Jerry.
    Bill said, "So what do you think, Jerry? I mean, what do you think?" Bill said.
    Jerry drained his can, mashed it, then stood for a time turning the can in his hand.
    BACK on the highway, Jerry opened it up—little jumps of eighty-five and ninety. They'd just passed an old pickup loaded with furniture when they saw the two girls.
    "Look at that!" Jerry said, slowing. "I could use some of that."
    What We Talk About When We Talk About Love
    Jerry drove another mile or so and then pulled off the road. "Let's go back," Jerry said. "Let's try it."
    "Jesus," Bill said. "I don't know."
    "I could use some," Jerry said.
    Bill said, "Yeah, but I don't know."
    "For Christ's sake," Jerry said.
    Bill glanced at his watch and then looked all around. He said, "You do the talking. I'm rusty."
    Jerry hooted as he whipped the car around.
    He slowed when he came nearly even with the girls. He pulled the Chevy onto the shoulder across from them. The girls kept on going on their bicycles, but they looked at each other and laughed. The one on the inside was dark-haired, tall, and willowy. The other was light-haired and smaller. They both wore shorts and halters.
    "Bitches," Jerry said. He waited for the cars to pass so he could pull a U.
    "I'll take the brunette," he said. He said, "The little one's yours."
    Bill moved his back against the front seat and touched the bridge of his sunglasses. "They're not going to do anything," Bill said.
    "They're going to be on your side," Jerry said.
    He pulled across the road and drove back. "Get ready," Jerry said.
    "Hi," Bill said as the girls bicycled up. "My name's Bill," Bill said.
    "That's nice," the brunette said.
    "Where are you going?" Bill said.
    The girls didn't answer. The little one laughed. They kept bicycling and Jerry kept driving.
    Tell the Women We're Going
    "Oh, come on now. Where you going?" Bill said.
    "No place," the little one said.
    "Where's no place?" Bill said.
    "Wouldn't you like to know," the little one said.
    "I told you my name," Bill said. "What's yours? My friend's Jerry," Bill said.
    The girls looked at each other and laughed.
    A car came up from behind. The driver hit his