by R. B. Conroy
“We’re both going down, Suzie! You’re still on that mortgage and your credit’s being ruined just like mine! We are over twelve months delinquent and the bank’s ready to foreclose, but they’re dragging their feet because they don’t want the piece of shit back either. If they do foreclose, we’ll both have to declare bankruptcy to get out from under the debt.” Suddenly Dusty paused, rubbing his chin with a wisp of a smile on his face, “I don’t think your rich boyfriend would like it if his new girlfriend’s name showed up in the newspaper as bankrupt, would he?”
The feisty Susan spun around and stuck her chin right next to an astonished Dusty’s face. “I asked you to take me off that mortgage a long time ago and you wouldn’t do it! I can’t even make my rent payments! How am I supposed to help you make any mortgage payments? If you were half a man, you’d take me off that mortgage and leave me alone!”
Dusty grinned an ugly grin and stepped back from Susan. His eyes studied Susan’s red angry face. “You looked awfully good getting out of that rich bastard’s car the other day. Things seem to be looking up for you and I’m sure you’d like to keep it that way.”
“You low-life!” she mumbled. “I rue the day I ever met you!”
“Listen Suzie, we agreed to buy that house together. Nobody put a gun to your head. Just because my life’s turned to shit, that doesn’t take you off the hook.”
Susan shook her head angrily. “What’s it going to take to stop the bank from proceeding any further?”
“We have to bring the loan current.”
“How much is that?”
“With past due interest, late charges, liens, etc., the bank says we owe them just over $44,000, so you owe me twenty-two thousand.”
Susan’s heart sank--there was no way in the world she could come up with $22,000. She could barely scrape up enough money to buy her favorite make-up. Confused and upset, she shot back at her old boyfriend, “How could we possibly owe them forty some thousand dollars? That dump isn’t worth much more than that! And, where is a loser like you going to get the money to pay your half?’
“Don’t you remember, bitch? I’ve got a nice sister who loves me very much. She’s going to sell some stock and loan me the cash.”
“Why do we have liens against the property?”
Dusty chuckled mockingly, “How about the new roof we had to put on? It was twelve thousand, and then we had to replace all the electrical, that was eight thousand. We didn’t pay them, so the builders ran to the courthouse and slapped liens against the property. That’s what happens when you don’t pay your bills, Suzie.”
“I didn’t approve of all that.”
“The hell you didn’t! That roof was leaking like a sieve and you were screamin’ your fool head off every day. You demanded that I get it fixed. Same way with the electrical. We were blowing circuits right and left and you told me to get it fixed and pronto.”
“I didn’t agree to spend that kind of money. I had no idea.”
Dusty paused. He looked away from Susan in disgust and shook his head, then he turned toward her again with fierce eyes. “That’s bullshit, Suzie, but I’m not going to stand here and argue with you all day. I’ve got things to do. The truth is, we both owe this money and it has to be paid--end of story!” Once again, shaking his head in disgust and not wanting to discuss the matter any further, he quickly opened the rusted driver’s side door on his old truck and slid into the seat. The engine belched to a start. He stuck his head part way out of the window and shouted over the engine noise, “Good seeing you again, Suzie, you’re lookin’ good.” A nasty grin crossed his face.
Feeling angry and defeated, a stunned Susan stood speechless as the old truck rolled across the parking lot and disappeared over a small hill next to the clubhouse.
Chapter 23
Susan tapped the down temperature arrow to send more cool air her way.
“Are you warm?”
Susan giggled, “Don’t you remember? I didn’t have many clothes on when we were in the garage last night. I had turned the temp up to keep warm and now I’m turning it back to normal.” Her hand slid off the temperature arrow and landed firmly on his knee. She gently squeezed his knee and started to gently rub his lower thigh.
A mischievous grin spread across Joe’s face, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a chill last night.”
Susan tossed him a sexy wink, “The heck you didn’t! I didn’t undress by myself, ya know.”
Joe blushed, “I guess not.”
The sign ahead read 75 South. Joe flipped on his turn signal and entered the entrance ramp.
Susan quickly changed the subject, “It’s so nice to get away. Now, where are we going today?”
“We are going to Sarasota to the Ford-Edison Museum.” Joe gunned it onto 75 and settled into the right lane.
“Oh.”
“I think you will enjoy it. Henry Ford and Thomas Edison were the best of friends, you know. They were such good friends that they built their winter homes right next to one another in Sarasota.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, and they were exact opposites. Ford was a sharp dresser and very talkative and social, while Edison was kind of frumpy and quiet, always thinking of his next invention, I guess.”
“How interesting.” Susan didn’t say much, afraid she might say something wrong. Not nearly as worldly as Joe, she had never been to many of the museums and attractions that dotted Florida, while Joe had visited most of them.
The astute Joe noticed the change in Susan. “You look lovely today, Susan.”
Susan’s eyes brightened at the nice comment. “Thank you.”
Joe put the car on cruise, lifted his coffee from the center console and took a sip. “Guess what.”
“What?”
“Hank Kramer and his live-in, Sandy, split up.”
Susan’s eyes widened, “Really? They made such a nice couple.”
“I was in my study this morning going over some paperwork and he called me about 6:30 with all the gory details. Now 6:30 is pretty early, but that’s Hank--he’s a little clueless at times.” Joe shook his head. “For some reason, he always calls me when he breaks up.”
“What happened?” Susan was shocked by Joe’s announcement about the break-up of Hank and Sandy.
“According to Hank, she was running around on him. He said she was seeing someone else on the side.”
“What do you think?”
“I’ve known Hank for a long time and he’s a really great guy, but if you ask me, he was probably running around on her. Hank has this weakness for pretty girls and they are drawn to his money. They move in with him thinking they’ve got him hooked and then a few months later, he dumps them. That’s the problem with living together.”
Susan’s eyes narrowed, “The problem?’
Joe paused for a second to swing out to the other lane and go around a large semi. After passing the noisy truck, he continued, “Yes, there’s no commitment. Either party can just walk away whenever they feel like it. It’s an arrangement fraught with uncertainties.”
Susan was crestfallen hearing the doctor talk this way. She felt like her legs had been knocked out from under her. Fearful that her plans to live with Joe were crumbling around her, she forced the issue a little further. “What if the couple truly loves each other, but one doesn’t want to get married. Doesn’t that put the relationship in a different place?”
Joe looked toward Susan, his brow raised, “I’m sorry. This conversation must be so distressing to you.” He smiled warmly, “I’m not saying that I wouldn’t ever live with you, Susan, I was just making an observation about Hank’s situation, I guess. Forgive me, it wasn’t appropriate.”
Susan was very irritated by Joe’s answer. It sounded like mumbo-jumbo to her. Afraid she might snap at him, she bit her tongue and replied, “I understand. I was just a little surprised by what you said, that’s all.”
“I’m sure you were, and once again, forgive me. It wasn’t a
very thoughtful thing to say.”
Susan forced a smile. “No problem and I hope everything works out okay for Hank and Sandy. I really liked them a lot--married or not.”
Joe chuckled, “Well, I wouldn’t worry too much about Hank. He told me this morning during our phone conversation that he already has a new partner for our mixed doubles outing on Monday.”
“You’re kidding? Already? He must have been seeing someone on the side.”
“Well, not necessarily. The lady’s name is Sarah and he picks up with her between girlfriends. I really don’t think he has been seeing her since he’s been with Sandy. Somebody else maybe, but I don’t believe he has been seeing Sarah.”
Susan laughed out loud, “Wow! This guy is really something!”
“I know. He’s fun, he’s handsome, and he’s very wealthy. What else could a girl ask for?”
Susan shook her head, “Not much, I guess.”
Wanting to change the subject, Joe reached over and patted Susan’s forearm. “It’s early. I think we will have time to go to the Ringling Brothers mansion in Sarasota also. It’s a stunning house that sits right on Sarasota Bay. They say it cost 1.5 million to build way back in 1925. What do you say? We could cap off the day with a nice dinner at Michael’s, a very fine restaurant in downtown Sarasota.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful, Joe. Thank you for planning such a nice day.” She gently patted his hand. Once again, Susan’s somewhat frayed feelings had been soothed over by the aura of wealth into which she had been so unexpectedly cast. Every time she thought that things weren’t going exactly right for her, she would stop and think about the life she was enjoying and she would suddenly feel much better. But she also knew that she would not completely forget the comments made by Joe concerning his friend Hank’s recent break-up. After the conversation she and Joe had a few days ago, she had wondered just which way he was leaning concerning their living together. His somewhat negative comments about Hank’s situation caused her to assume that he had decided against it. Even when she asked him for clarification, he didn’t give her a straight answer. She was very fond of Joe and she loved the life she was living, but the ultimate consummation of her dream would be to actually live in Joe’s world. Still, she hadn’t lost all hope--she still felt she could get the job done if she just played her cards right.
“Ford-Edison, Ringling Brothers, and Michael’s, that’s our plan for the day,” Joe said.
“It will be a fabulous day, but we also have tonight.” Susan arched her back and winked playfully at the Doctor.
Joe’s eyes froze on her protruding chest, “Oh my, you do have a way with the words, darling.”
“Joe!”
Joe’s eyes darted toward the road as his car had drifted onto the shoulder. He whipped the steering wheel left and jerked back on the road. Susan breathed a huge sigh of relief and then began to laugh hysterically. A tiny grin broke out on Joe’s red face. Clutching the wheel with both hands, he steadied the course.
“Pardon me, I let my passions get the best of me,” he murmured.
“No harm in that.”
Joe sat back and nestled into his driver’s side seat and mumbled so softly that Susan could barely hear him, “You really know how to ring my bell, Susan.”
You bet I do!! she thought.
Chapter 24
It was a hot winter day in Florida. Joe bent down and lifted a slender tube of sunscreen out of one of the compartments on his golf bag. The label read SPF-30. He squeezed the tube and the white cream snaked onto the palm of his hand. He vigorously rubbed it over his face and neck, careful to rub a little on his ears--something a lot of the golfers forgot to do. Then he covered his arms and legs with the creamy substance and stuck it back in the bag. He reached in the bag again for his golf glove and slipped it on his left hand and looked toward the starter’s hut. His old friend, Mario Corsetti, was waving him over to the first tee at the Hacienda Hills Country Club, a beautiful club on the far north end of The Villages. Joe jumped aboard his cart and sped toward his old friend who was waiting by the first tee.
Monday was Joe’s day to play eighteen holes with the guys. It was a fun group, with enough golfers to make up three or four foursomes. Looking for a men’s only game, he asked Mario about his Monday group and Mario invited Joe to join them. Joe and Mario had been friends for over fifty years, dating back to their high school days in Pittsburgh. An iron worker by trade, Mario was a retired union boss from the Iron Workers Local Union 3 in Pittsburgh. He had held that position for more than twenty years prior to his retirement. The gentle doctor and the rough and tumble iron worker had been neighbors in Pittsburgh and had remained friends throughout the years--raising their families together and sharing many memories. Joe enjoyed the Monday game with the guys and his old friend, Mario. He liked Mario for a lot of reasons, but the principle reason was that he could always count on him to tell him the brutal truth--no matter what the subject.
“I thought you’d never get here, Joe, we tee off in two minutes,” Mario groused as Joe pulled to a stop next to the blocky Italian. Mario had just walked over from the nearby putting green. He stuffed his putter in his bag and tossed it on the back of Joe’s cart.
“Oh sorry, I had to put on a little sunscreen.”
“You don’t need it at your age, Joe, they say the damage has already been done. I thought you doctors knew all that shit!”
Joe grinned at his unceremonious friend. “I’ve told you before, it still helps to wear lotion, no matter what your age.”
Mario laughed, “Okay, if you say so, DOCTOR.”
“I thought we were 12:46.”
“We are, but they’re a little ahead of schedule today.” Mario reached in his bag and lifted out his driver.
“Can we hit yet?”
“Yea, the guys in front of us are hitting their second shots, so I think we can move up to the tee. I’ll check with the starter lady.” Mario replied. “Can we move up?” Mario shouted at the nearby starter, whose slender frame was covered by white shorts and a bright yellow golf shirt.
“Go right ahead,” she replied, smiling broadly.
The two men hopped aboard the gas cart and moved up to the first tee on the front nine at Hacienda. Joe exited the cart, lifted his driver from the bag, tossed the big head cover in the basket and proceeded to swish a few practice swings across the grass on the well-manicured tee.
“You always look like you’re killing snakes or something, Doc.” Mario barked as he stood on the edge of the tee leaning against the top of his driver.
“You have to get ready to hit the ball, Mar. Maybe that’s why I always out drive you.”
Mario scowled, “That will be the day when some pip squeak doctor out drives me.”
“You’re up, Mar, give it your best shot.”
Mario, a broad grin plastered all over his face, strolled across the tee box and settled between the markers. He took a couple of aggressive practice swings and took his stance. He placed his driver head directly behind the ball. He pulled the club back quickly and took a mighty swing. His swing was so aggressive that it caused him to lose his balance and fall backwards after hitting the ball. The ball shot off the club face and soared down the fairway drifting far to the right into a stand of tall palm trees.
“Not bad, Mar.”
“Not bad, my ass, I killed that ball! I could be on in two and this is a par five!”
Joe approached the tee markers, giving his friend a gentle high-five on the way. He bent down and ripped a wad of grass from the tee and tossed it in the air. He watched carefully as the tiny blades scattered toward the east.
“Come on man, you’re not a pro, hit the frickin’ ball!” Mario yelled.
Joe bent over again and teed up his ball, a little lower than Mario. He took his stance, wiggled a couple of times and then slowly and deliberately pulled his club up and then accelerated down toward the ball with his left foot staying firmly planted on the ground. The ball exploded off th
e club face and flew high and straight down the fairway, rolling to a stop in the center of the fairway some two-hundred and thirty yards from the tee, well past Mario’s rather anemic tee shot to the right.
“Show off!” Mario cried.
Flashing a shy grin, Joe strolled confidently over to his cart, dropped his driver in the bag and climbed aboard the cart next to his buddy, Mario. The two of them watched patiently as their playing partners, Ned and Harry, proceeded to hit their tee shots, spraying their drives left and right respectively.
“Let’s roll, Joe,” Mario ordered. “We’ve all hit.”
Joe shook his head, I know we’ve all hit, he thought. He pressed down on the accelerator and headed down the fairway to track down the elusive white spheres. Loose coins and water bottles bounced in the center console as they turned off the cart path and rolled over the hard clumps of grass in the rough. The fresh breeze rushed over the speeding cart, temporarily cooling Joe’s warm face.
Both men hit their second shots with Mario hitting a low hard fade that rolled to a stop about ninety yards from the green on the short par 5. Joe, using perfect form, hit another great shot that landed on the green and rolled some twenty feet past the hole. Mario hit his third shot and it came to rest about thirty feet from the hole. He proceeded to three putt for a bogey six. Joe hit a good putt that rimmed out for an eagle and then he tapped in for a birdie four. Their playing partners recovered nicely from the errant drives, with both of them parring the hole.
* * *
Joe’s cart glided to a stop on the asphalt cart path about a hundred feet from the second tee box. “Looks like we’re going to be awhile. I wonder what’s holding everything up. There’s two groups waiting to hit.”
“The group in front of these guys look like beginners. I watched them tee off on the first hole and they couldn’t hit their ass with a bass fiddle,” Mario replied, leaning back against the soft cushion on Joe’s cart to wait things out.
