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

Each morning he put her on the scale.
    In two weeks she had lost three and a half pounds.
    “I pick,” she said. “I starve myself all day, and then I pick at work. It adds up.”
    But a week later she had lost five pounds. The week after that, nine and a half pounds. Her clothes were loose on her. She had to cut into the rent money to buy a new uniform.
    “People are saying things at work,” she said.
    “What kind of things?” Earl said.
    “That I’m too pale, for one thing,” she said. “That I don’t look like myself. They’re afraid I’m losing too much weight.”
    “What is wrong with losing?” he said. “Don’t you pay any attention to them. Tell them to mind their own business. They’re not your husband. You don’t have to live with them.”
    “I have to work with them,” Doreen said.
    “That’s right,” Earl said. “But they’re not your husband.”
    Each morning he followed her into the bathroom and waited while she stepped onto the scale. He got down on his knees with a pencil and the piece of paper. The paper was covered with dates, days of the week, numbers. He read the number on the scale, consulted the paper, and either nodded his head or pursed his lips.
    Doreen spent more time in bed now. She went back to bed after the children had left for school, and she napped in the afternoons before going to work. Earl helped around the house, watched television, and let her sleep. He did all the shopping, and once in a while he went on an interview.
    One night he put the children to bed, turned off the television, and decided to go for a few drinks. When the bar closed, he drove to the coffee shop.
    He sat at the counter and waited. When she saw him, she said, “Kids okay?”
    Earl nodded.
    He took his time ordering. He kept looking at her as she moved up and down behind the counter. He finally ordered a cheeseburger. She gave the order to the cook and went to wait on someone else.
    Another waitress came by with a coffeepot and filled Earl’s cup.
    “Who’s your friend?” he said and nodded at his wife.
    “Her name’s Doreen,” the waitress said.
    “She looks a lot different than the last time I was in here,” he said.
    “I wouldn’t know,” the waitress said.
    He ate the cheeseburger and drank the coffee. People kept sitting down and getting up at the counter.
    Doreen waited on most of the people at the counter, though now and then the other waitress came along to take an order. Earl watched his wife and listened carefully. Twice he had to leave his place to go to the bathroom. Each time he wondered if he might have missed hearing something. When he came back the second time, he found his cup gone and someone in his place. He took a stool at the end of the counter next to an older man in a striped shirt.
    “What do you want?” Doreen said to Earl when she saw him again. “Shouldn’t you be home?”
    “Give me some coffee,” he said.
    The man next to Earl was reading a newspaper. He looked up and watched Doreen pour Earl a cup of coffee. He glanced at Doreen as she walked away. Then he went back to his newspaper.
    Earl sipped his coffee and waited for the man to say something. He watched the man out of the corner of his eye. The man had finished eating and his plate was pushed to the side. The man lit a cigarette, folded the newspaper in front of him, and continued to read.
    Doreen came by and removed the dirty plate and poured the man more coffee.
    “What do you think of that?” Earl said to the man, nodding at Doreen as she moved down the counter.
    “Don’t you think that’s something special?”
    The man looked up. He looked at Doreen and then at Earl, and then went back to his newspaper.
    “Well, what do you think?” Earl said. “I’m asking. Does it look good or not? Tell me.”
    The man rattled the newspaper.
    When Doreen started down the counter again, Earl nudged the man’s shoulder and said, “I’m telling you something. Listen. Look at the ass on her.