his gaze on her chest. “Nice, juicy dream.”
Teeter stopped stirring the sweetener into his coffee. He looked at the floor, where his work boots splayed out in the duck stance his bad hip engendered. “I believe you ought to keep that stuff to yourself,” he said. “She said she doesn’t want to hear it.”
“She was wearing some of them thong panties. Black ones. I bet she’s got ’em on now.”
Teeter pulled the little stirrer out of his cup and pointed it at Newland. “That’s not nice,” he said. “To be saying that kind of thing to her.”
Newland looked at the headache pills Teeter had set on the counter. “Real juicy dream,” he said. The first word came out weel. “Real results. Know what I mean?” Teeter put the pills in his pocket. Beneath the stubble on his cheeks the skin grew red.
Carter called out to Jimmy Hubble, who’d come through the door and was headed for the auto supplies. “Hey, there’s fresh coffee over here.”
Jimmy’s head disappeared as he squatted down. “I’m looking for the wiper fluid.”
“We’re all out,” Carter said. The shelves were so dusty down there. “We got an order coming in next week.” No one had bought any wiper fluid in a year. They’d stopped ordering it.
“Hell, Carter, that won’t help me today.”
“Aw, just put some water in there,” Newland said. “That’ll do just as good.”
Teeter snapped a plastic cover on his cup. “You’re so full of it,” he said. He turned to Carter with a sheepish look. “I got to get home.”
“I know. Tell Eleanor I hope she’s better soon. You come on back when you can stay.”
Newland started talking about the dream again.
“Knock it off,” Jimmy said. He put two packs of gum down hard on the counter. “Carter doesn’t want to hear that shit.”
Newland took his eyes off Carter and glared at Jimmy. “How’s your brother? How’s Carl?” Jimmy’s brother had once been married to Newland’s half-sister. Rumor was he had an itchy fist.
Jimmy turned his back on Newland and handed Carter a ten. “Carl couldn’t be happier. I’ll tell him you asked.”
“Don’t rush off, Jimmy,” Carter said. “How about a cup of coffee?”
“Some other time.” Jimmy ripped the tab on a pack of gum and shoved a stick into his mouth. “Too crowded in here.”
Before Jimmy was out the door, Newland started in again.
“Stop it,” Carter said. But he ran on, talking about titties and his dick against her thigh. Cawteh you make me hawd. Her legs grew weak and the knot in her stomach twisted like a snake. She pretended to dust under the counter and kept her head down until Mitzi Gander came in with her two little boys and Newland left. Carter pulled the pack of Tums from her purse and popped two. Mitzi set a carton of milk and a box of tampons on the counter. “Too much Mexican dinner?”
“Too much Newland Sparks,” Carter said.
“Oh, that. Can’t Roy do something?”
“If he doesn’t, I will.”
Roy Bostic had lived all his life in Chireno County, so a drive to the next county for beer did not seem odd. The Baptists had a choke hold on East Texas. The rest of Texas laughed, and called it the hundred miles of dry. Roy would split the Friday beer run with friends and this week, thank God, it was someone else’s turn. He was beat. His doctor had told him he had gout, and that was why his big toe felt like there was gravel sticking in it. He limped into the house. With work over, he didn’t have to suck it up and pretend.
Carter wasn’t home, and he hoped that meant she was buying groceries. They were out of everything. She’d called him at the warehouse to apologize for driving off in a huff this morning, but he suspected the real reason she’d called was to let him know that Newland Sparks had been in again. Roy didn’t like what Sparks was doing, but the guy was basically harmless. Someday he’d find someone else to bug.
Roy popped a beer and scrounged around for the package of crackers going stale in the back of the pantry. In the den, he turned on the clumsy computer and watched it dial up the online medical world. He’d never known anyone with gout. He thought it was a disease of fat old men.
Carter came in a half-hour later, no grocery bags in sight. She set her purse on the table next to him. “If your toe’s hurting, you shouldn’t be having that beer.”
“Where’ve you been?” He flipped off the website he was on.
“Reba was late for her shift again. I tried to call, but the line was tied up. I figured you were on the computer.” For once she didn’t say he ought to turn on his cell phone because otherwise why have it.
“We needed groceries,” he said.
“You could have stopped for groceries. When you went over to Phil’s to get the beer you had to pass Brookshire’s twice.”
“But you always buy the groceries.”
“Because you never do.”
Carter turned on her heel and headed for the kitchen. He heard her rummaging in the cupboard and figured she’d find the bow-tie pasta in there. He wasn’t in the mood for pasta. She would open a can of tomatoes and dump a lot of cheese on it and the whole thing would go straight to their waistlines.
Inside Carter’s purse, her cell was ringing. “Let it ring,” she called. “I’ll be right there.” He pulled out the phone and answered. It was Jerome.
“She’s not interested,” he said. “I appreciate your calling but she’s going to be tied up. Our daughter’s having a baby.”
Carter came in. “Is that Jerome? Let me talk to him.”
“I’m sorry,” Roy said into the phone, turning away from her as she reached for it. “I don’t know. Yeah, it’s just bad timing for her. Appreciate your calling.” He hung up.
“You told him no? I told you to let me talk to him.”
“Why didn’t you tell me he’d asked? You should have just told him no straight out. We’re doing inventory tomorrow so we can get it done before the baby comes.”
“Since when? Give me the phone. You were rude. Why shouldn’t I go to Baton Rouge? We need the money.”
“We don’t need it that bad. There are people down there you don’t need to be around.” He talked on about crime and city blight and for emphasis he used the n-word.
“Don’t say that word. You just hung up on one of the most respectable men I know.”
“So maybe he’s not like a lot of them. But we can’t afford to hire somebody to cover for you in the store.”
“Which just proves we’re not making any money and never will. Inventory? You just
