Where I'm Calling From by Raymond Carver Read Free Book Online Page A

But she looked in the mirror over the dresser and pushed the hair away from her shoulders.
    “Well?” he said.
    “Well, what?” she said.
    “I hate to say anything,” Earl said, “but I think you better give a diet some thought. I mean it. I’m serious. I think you could lose a few pounds. Don’t get mad.”
    “What are you saying?” she said.
    “Just what I said. I think you could lose a few pounds. A few pounds, anyway,” he said.
    “You never said anything before,” she said. She raised her nightgown over her hips and turned to look at her stomach in the mirror.
    “I never felt it was a problem before,” he said. He tried to pick his words.
    The nightgown still gathered around her waist, Doreen turned her back to the mirror and looked over her shoulder. She raised one buttock in her hand and let it drop.
    Earl closed his eyes. “Maybe I’m all wet,” he said.
    “I guess I could afford to lose. But it’d be hard,” she said.
    “You’re right, it won’t be easy,” he said. “But I’ll help.”
    “Maybe you’re right,” she said. She dropped her nightgown and looked at him and then she took her nightgown off.
    They talked about diets. They talked about the protein diets, the vegetable-only diets, the grapefruit-juice diets. But they decided they didn’t have the money to buy the steaks the protein diet called for. And Doreen said she didn’t care for all that many vegetables. And since she didn’t like grapefruit juice that much, she didn’t see how she could do that one, either.
    “Okay, forget it,” he said.
    “No, you’re right,” she said. “I’ll do something.” “What about exercises?” he said.
    “I’m getting all the exercise I need down there,” she said.
    “Just quit eating,” Earl said. “For a few days, anyway.”
    “All right,” she said. “I’ll try. For a few days I’ll give it a try. You’ve convinced me.”
    “I’m a closer,” Earl said.
    Earle figured up the balance in their checking account, then drove to the discount store and bought a bathroom scale. He looked the clerk over as she rang up the sale.
    At home he had Doreen take off all her clothes and get on the scale. He frowned when he saw the veins.
    He ran his finger the length of one that sprouted up her thigh.
    “What are you doing?” she asked.
    “Nothing,” he said.
    He looked at the scale and wrote the figure down on a piece of paper.
    “All right,” Earl said. “All right.”
    The next day he was gone for most of the afternoon on an interview.
    The employer, a heavyset man who limped as he showed Earl around the plumbing fixtures in the warehouse, asked if Earl were free to travel.
    “You bet I’m free,” Earl said.
    The man nodded.
    Earl smiled.
    He could hear the television before he opened the door to the house. The children did not look up as he walked through the living room. In the kitchen, Doreen, dressed for work, was eating scrambled eggs and bacon.
    “What are you doing?” Earl said.
    She continued to chew the food, cheeks puffed. But then she spit everything into a napkin.
    “I couldn’t help myself,” she said.
    “Slob,” Earl said. “Go ahead, eat! Go on!” He went to the bedroom, closed the door, and lay on the covers. He could still hear the television. He put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling.
    She opened the door.
    “I’m going to try again,” Doreen said.
    “Okay,” he said.
    Two mornings later she called him into the bathroom. “Look,” she said.
    He read the scale. He opened a drawer and took out the paper and read the scale again while she grinned.
    “Three-quarters of a pound,” she said.
    “It’s something,” he said and patted her hip.
    He read the classifieds. He went to the state employment office. Every three or four days he drove someplace for an interview, and at night he counted her tips. He smoothed out the dollar bills on the table and stacked the nickels, dimes, and quarters in piles of one dollar each.