was at the goddamn beach! But not me! I was stuck in Orange with a bunch of old crones while my best friend is screwing around with the girl I’m supposed to marry. And does she care? No! She’s enjoying her day at the beach. If she loved me at all she never would have gone with Bill and Susan. I don’t care if I said it was all right. She’s supposed to be with me.
I stayed at O’Leary’s until 5:30, then drove home. My mom had told me in the morning that she was having dinner at 6:00. I wasn’t at all hungry. In fact, I was so full of beer, all I wanted to do was lie down. It wasn’t very often that I admitted to myself I had had too much to drink. Drunkenness was a term used to describe people other than myself, who couldn’t hold their booze. But this time I was drunk.
As I pulled into my driveway I could see somebody sitting on the front steps, but my eyes were a little out of focus and it wasn’t until I had gotten out of the car that I could see it was Nancy. She ran to me, throwing her arms around my neck.
“Oh, Mackenzie, I missed you so much. I convinced Bill and Susan to leave the beach early to beat the traffic. I just couldn’t wait another minute to see you. I just had to hold you, and kiss you. You feel so good…You smell like beer, though. Are you allowed to have beer at the Post Office?”
“I wasn’t at the Post Office. I was at O’Leary’s.”
“Since when?”
“Since all day.”
“But what about work? I thought you had to work today.”
“I worked. Two lousy hours I worked. They only needed me for two lousy hours.”
“That’s terrible.”
“You’re goddamn right it is! I was pissed! I still am pissed!”
“That doesn’t seem fair, Mackenzie. I bet that ruined your whole day. But I’m here now. We’re together now.”
“Big deal. I was alone all weekend while you were having fun at the beach.”
“I wasn’t having fun. I was miserable without you.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Mackenzie, I was. What’s wrong?”
“Who put suntan lotion on you, that’s what I want to know.”
“Well, Bill did.”
“I knew it!”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“What else did you do with Bill?”
“What are you getting at, Mackenzie?”
“You slept with him, didn’t you?”
Nancy was silent for several seconds. She turned to walk away, but came right back at me.
“You’re drunk.”
“Am not either.”
“Let me take you inside. You need a strong cup of coffee.”
“Get your hands off me! I want to know what happened. Bill had his hands all over you, didn’t he?”
“I can’t talk to you when you’re in this condition.”
“Did you take a shower with him too?”
“This is a side of you I never knew existed, Mackenzie. I know everyone has a dark side, but it usually doesn’t show as badly as yours.”
“Don’t pull that Psyche One crap on me! The three of you were together in one motel room. Don’t you think I know what was going on?”
Nancy folded her arms in front of her. “Okay, tell me what went on.”
“You were ballin’ you brains out, that’s what!”
Nancy held her stance in front of me, her arms folded, her lips drawn tight. She stood like that for what seemed minutes while I swayed back and forth. I was afraid she was going to punch me in the stomach, then all the money I had spent on beer during the day would be wasted.
Finally, she turned and walked toward her car.
“Where are you going?” I said angrily.
When she turned to face me I saw tears running down her cheeks. “I’m going to see Bill. I want to take up where we left off. I want him. I need him. You know why, Mackenzie Peck? Because he’s a real man, not a jerk like you!”
Nancy started her car and pulled away from the curb as fast as a four-cylinder Opel could go.
I stumbled out into the street after her and yelled at the quickly disappearing car, “Wait a minute! Which bathing suit were you wearing?”
The next afternoon at two thirty, Mr. Dell was waiting for me by the time clock. He seemed none too happy.
“Bit of a problem yesterday, Mr. Peck?”
I was still in a sour mood. Not only were the beer demons using my lower intestinal tract for a trampoline, but I was also heartsick over the way I had treated Nancy. I had tried calling her at work before I left the house, but Mr. Skinner said she was busy with a customer.
“So Hank told you, huh?”
“It doesn’t matter how I found out. I want you to know insubordination is grounds for dismissal. Suspension at the very least. We’ll let it go this time since Mr. Bevins is not insistent on pressing the issue. But in the future you are not to talk to any supervisor in the manner in which you did. Do I make myself clear?”
I knew the type of response Mr. Dell wanted. He wanted me to lock my heels at a forty-five degree angle and give the same cowering response a certain 2nd Lieutenant once tried to get out of me. But I stopped short in giving Mr. Dell the same reply I had given that 2nd Louie. Instead, I stood toe to toe with Mr. Dell and said the kindest words I could think of telling him.
“Eat shit.”
Mr. Dell swiped the glasses from his face. “You’re outta here, Peck! You’re fired!”
“You can’t fire me that easily. I’m in the union.”
“I’m ordering you to leave these premises. I said you’re fired, and believe me, I can make it stick.”
I repeated the same exit routine as the day before, only I didn’t get the chance to throw my time card in Mr. Dell’s face. Out on the platform I quickly passed by two mail handlers who were loading the trailer. No doubt they had heard the altercation between me and Mr. Dell, and they were probably aware of nasty words I had laid on Hank Bevins.
One of the mail handlers said to me as I passed, “Man, you really are the Bad Boy.”
Bad Boy was a nickname Duck had started, but for a different reason, and only a few people called me that. Now, however, I was sure everybody at the North Orange Post Office would know me by that moniker.
I
