The Bentleys Buy a Buick

by Pamela Morsi

  Tom and Cliff had been roommates at Job Corps. Later they’d been bachelors on the town, sharing a cheap, stripped-down apartment with mattresses on the floor and a fridge full of beer. Back then, both of them dreamed about owning their own business. Cliff’s dream was still in the dream stage. And it didn’t look to Tom like it would get out of that phase anytime soon. He and his wife, Trish, had just bought a new house in Westover Hills. It was in a clean, pretty, just-built subdivision with a brand-new elementary school. It was hard not to be envious, but Erica talked him out of it.

  “Owning a business is not like working for wages. We’re investing in the future,” she told him. “And besides, living in Woodlawn insures that we’ll never have to enroll Quint in Spanish immersion.”

  Tom had laughed. It was true. Their son had already picked up enough street Spanglish to understand and obey all the scolding grandmothers at the playground.

  Tom opened the side door separating the work floor from the office of Bentley’s Classic Car Care and ushered Quint inside. He and Erica agreed. It was too dangerous for their son to spend his time among the lifts and machinery of the bays. A mechanic shop was a hazardous place even for adults. So they made a deal with Quint. He would be the after-school office manager. He would sit at his dad’s desk, do his homework, keep himself busy. And he could answer the phone and then use the intercom to page the right person.

  From the office fridge at the back of the room, Tom retrieved a carton of milk, a Baggie full of grapes and a chunk of cheese.

  “Do you have a lot of homework?” he asked.

  Quint nodded. “I have spelling words,” he answered with a sigh. “And some of them are really long.”

  Tom grinned at him. “You like big words, remember.”

  “I like to say them, not to spell them.”

  “Holler at me on the speaker if you need something,” he told his son.

  Quint took him at his word. The door to the office had hardly shut behind him when he heard the little voice reverberating through the shop.

  “I love you, Dad!”

  Tom couldn’t help smiling and the other guys didn’t even bother to try to tease him.

  Chapter 3

  ERICA GOT OFF WORK AT four-thirty. The longest, hottest part of her commute was the walk from her office to the bus stop. She didn’t complain much about the distance. Even those employees who drove their own cars were as signed to lots and garages some distance from the building’s air-conditioning. She was really looking forward to the new BRT, the bus rapid transit service, that was scheduled to run from the medical center down Fredericksburg Road. The Fred Burg Line, as they called it, would supposedly get her to within blocks of their business in less than fifteen minutes. The current bus was more like a milk run, stopping block after block as it edged toward downtown.

  They’d decided on leaving her car at the shop both to save money on parking fees and to free them from buying another vehicle. Her old sedan was dependable enough to get around their neighborhood, but if she was to take on real commuting, she’d have to get something better.

  With a young family, it always seemed that money was in short supply.

  Though there was some good news on that account. She’d been called down to payroll late in the day to inform her that an error had been made when calculating her pay rate. She was actually going to be bringing home almost forty dollars a month more than she’d thought. It wasn’t a fortune, but she was humming as happily as if it were.

  As she stood at the bus stop her cell phone began beeping. She glanced at it to see her mother’s name on the display screen. Erica groaned aloud, but then stuck a determined smile on her face as she answered.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  Ann Marie Maddock was not the kind of mother who tolerated attitude in her children. Attitude was rather broadly interpreted to include everything from petulance to grief, and even ordinary exhaustion was forbidden. Ann Marie was the absolute center of her own universe and the only person in her sphere allowed to have emotional ups and downs.

  “What are you doing?” she asked Erica.

  “I’m just getting off work.”

  Her mother made a sound of disapproval. “I warned you that if you married that grease monkey he’d never make you a decent living.”

  “We’re doing just fine, Mom.”

  “Not fine enough that you can stay home and do for yourself,” Ann Marie pointed out.

  “I’m ready to go back to work,” Erica insisted. “With Quint in school all day, well, I’d much rather be at the hospital than hanging around the house.”

  Ann Marie sniffed. “I should think that now that the boy is out from underfoot and is big enough not to ruin the furniture, you’d be fixing up the house.”

  “My house is fine, Mother,” Erica said firmly. It was an old argument, a never-ending one, and one Erica knew she could never really win.

  “It’s a disgrace,” Ann Marie said. “Every stick of furniture you have looks like it came from the thrift store. I suppose if you’re going to live in such a tacky little house, you don’t see any need to buy anything nice. But you should at least make an effort.”

  Erica rolled her eyes and fortunately, her mother couldn’t see her face.

  “I painted the living room just two months ago,” she said by way of defense.”

  “A gallon of paint doesn’t equal redecorating,” Ann Marie said. “Don’t think that everyone who walks in doesn’t notice the worn spots in that rug. That sofa is not vintage, it’s just old. And those tacky curtains, I wouldn’t have those hanging in my garage.”

  Erica had bought the couch when she was still single. And the curtains had come with the house. They were pretty bad, but Erica wasn’t about to concede the point.

  “We like our house, Mom,” Erica said. “It suits us.”

  “Nonsense,” she said. “You don’t spend money on your home, because every penny is going into your husband’s business.”

  “It’s not Tom’s business it’s our business,” Erica corrected. “And then there’s Quint’s college fund. Both of those things are more important to me than new draperies.”

  Her mother’s sigh was long-suffering. “Well, I hope your sister ends up having better sense than you do,” Ann Marie said. “Though I don’t see any evidence of it yet. With her looks, why is she wasting her time studying science? Only unattractive women go into that field.”

  “I don’t think that’s true, Mom,” Erica said. “And if it is, well, Letty has always been a trailblazer.”

  “Well, that girl certainly hasn’t been blazing a trail home lately,” her mother said. “Have you seen her?”

  “Uh, no, not really,” Erica hedged, but then decided that she shouldn’t be deceptive. “She’s babysitting Quint tonight.”

  “Oh, really? You and Tom are going out? On a Friday night?”

  It sounded like a criticism and Erica was immediately defensive. “We haven’t been out for ages,” she said. “And Tom doesn’t know it yet, but we have a reason to celebrate.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, well, it’s no big deal, really, but the payroll office made a mistake and I’m going to be bringing home more money than I thought.”

  Erica explained more than she needed to about how education and experience were calculated in the University Hospital employment contracts.

  “So, Tom doesn’t know about this extra money?” Ann Marie asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Then don’t tell him.”

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t tell him,” Erica’s mother repeated. “What he doesn’t know about he’ll never miss.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m talking about a way for you to have some money that’s your own. Some money for you to use for things you want.”

  “Mother. I have all the money I need. I’m the one who makes sure the bills are paid. I even do the accounting for the business. I am the finance director of the family.”


  “But you’re not acting that way,” Ann Marie pointed out. “You never stick anything aside for fixing up the house or buying new furniture. You’re just completely locked into going along the path that best suits his goals. Sometimes a woman needs to strike out on her own. She needs to buy somethings simply because she wants them. Heaven has just handed you a way to do that without causing your family even the slightest sacrifice.”

  “That’s doesn’t make any sense,” Erica said.

  “It makes perfect sense,” Ann Marie insisted. “If you throw this extra money in with the rest, it will just disappear. Every dime will go to some sort of metal something in your husband’s shop and it will not bring you one moment of pleasure or joy. But if you took this bit that nobody even knows about, or will ever miss, and put it into your own little nest egg, very soon you’ll have enough to buy a new rug or a new couch or decent drapes. That’s the sort of thing that feeds a woman’s soul. And you’ve been soulless too long.”

  “Mother, that is just ridiculous,” Erica told her. “Buying stuff doesn’t feed my soul. That’s not me. That’s you. And if you come up with some extra money, please, feel free to go out and buy whatever you like.”

  Her mother huffed in displeasure. “You should be saving money to add on another bedroom at the very least.”

  “We don’t need another bedroom.”

  “Yes, you do,” Ann Marie insisted. “What if you change your mind about having another baby?”

  “That is none of your concern and not up for discussion,” Erica stated firmly. “We have one healthy, happy child. That’s enough for us.”

  “Fine, if you say so, but you’ll still need another bedroom if I have to come and live with you.”

  “Mother, you will not be coming to live with us.”

  “I may have to,” she said. “I’m not as attractive as I used to be. This thing with Melvin may not last through the week. I may be out on my ear and with no place to go, except your tiny, tacky, cramped little house.”

  “May God forbid!” Erica said with genuine abhorrence. Her multidivorced mother was currently living with a wealthy widower. Ann Marie had very bad luck with men, or perhaps she made her own luck. But under no circumstances did Erica ever want her mother to move in with her.

  The rest of the conversation was as tight-lipped and disapproving as Ann Marie could make it. Erica’s relationship with her mother had never been the best. But Ann Marie was, for all intents and purposes, her only parent.

  Stuart Maddock, Erica’s father, had been a lawyer, tall, good-looking and athletic. According to Ann Marie, he had a wandering eye for the ladies. Her mother divorced him. More than that, she proudly claimed to have stripped him of every dime he had and sullied his reputation so badly he could no longer make a living in his home town, not even in his home state. He’d moved to Florida to take a job as a golf pro. Except for an occasional Christmas or birthday card, Erica hadn’t heard from him since.

  She’d had two dads in the years right after that, Dale and Doug. In her mind they were interchangeable and she had no idea which was which. They both just disappeared and those divorces were rarely commented upon.

  Then Ann Marie married Cesar, Letty’s father. What she mostly remembered about him was that he left, too. And he left Letty behind.

  Some women took up needlepoint. Others gambled at bingo. Ann Marie’s hobby became divorce. She spent her years in conflict and court cases trying to wring the last dime out of every man who’d done her wrong.

  Nobody who knew that about her ever wanted to get on her bad side. Erica included. She was grateful when she saw the bus crest the top of the hill at Medical Drive. It was a perfect excuse to get off the phone.

  “Got to go, Mom,” she said in a rush. “I’ll remind Letty to call you.”

  Erica didn’t wait for her mother’s response, but quickly hit the end button. She heaved a sigh of relief and shook her head before stepping onto the bus and slipping her pass under the bar-code reader.

  She made her way toward an empty seat near the back and settled in as the bus began to move. Glancing around, she recognized most of the faces. After only a couple of weeks, she already felt familiar with those she thought of as “the regulars.” They travelled the same time of day that she did and that sort of cheered her. She knew already that commuting was sure to become a hot, tiring daily task, but for now it was still a new enough experience to be sort of strangely enjoyable. After six long years of simply running errands with Quint, she was once more a part of the community of working people. That was exciting. The isolation of being a stay-at-home mom had had its challenges. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed just being out in the world, talking about other things and seeing other people.

  A lot had changed over the past six years. There were new hospitals and a lot of opportunity for a smart, experienced professional coder like Erica. But this old job was appealing because it was fairly close to home and she was familiar with it. She didn’t like stress and she avoided risk. Stress and risk were her mother’s drugs of choice. Erica was determined to be drug free.

  When she arrived at her stop, she exited out the back and waited at the corner to cross with the light. She walked the four blocks to Bentley’s Classic Car Care, mentally taking note of everything she needed in the next few hours to perfect the evening out with her husband.

  She heard the whiz of hydraulics and the clink of wrenches just before her husband’s shop came into view. Through the glass in the front office she could see Quint at Tom’s desk. He was bent over a paper, looking very official.

  As she crossed the lot she glanced into the work bays. There were three cars parked inside. Erica didn’t immediately spot Tom, but Gus waved at her, so she knew her husband would get the word that she was here.

  As she approached the doorway her son glanced up, and when he saw her a big grin spread across his face.

  She walked through the front office door. A loud horn blared announcing her entrance. Erica was so accustomed to it, she didn’t even flinch.

  “Good afternoon, sir,” she said with feigned formality. “I’d like to know if Bentley’s is the best classic car repair in the city.”

  “Of course it is, Mom,” Quint answered. She always pretended to be a customer and he always pretended that the game was silly, but she knew he liked it.

  “Are you doing homework?” she asked him.

  “All done. It was only one math paper and my spelling words.”

  “So what are you working on?”

  “Just drawing,” he said. “There is nothing else to do here.” Erica nodded.

  “How was school?”

  “Good,” he answered, nodding.

  “Learn anything interesting?”

  The little boy shrugged. “I guess so,” he said.

  The side door opened and Tom came in, grinning.

  “Hi, favorite woman,” he said. “How was your afternoon?”

  “Busy, exhausting,” she answered honestly, then added, “but it’s about to get a lot better, spending some time with my guys.”

  Tom was near enough to snake an arm around her waist and pull her close to him. In front of their son, he gave her a very chaste kiss on the end of the nose, but he also managed a surreptitious pat on her backside.

  “I’d better get this bored little boy home,” she told him. “His aunt Letty is coming to see him tonight after supper.”

  Tom raised an eyebrow. “Is she coming to visit all of us?”

  “No,” Erica answered. “She wants to spend all her time with Quint. So I guess you and I will just have to make ourselves scarce.”

  There was a smile in Tom’s eyes, but he kept his voice appropriately grave. “Do we have any plans for this…ah…‘scarcity’?”

  “Not as yet,” Erica told him. “But I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

  He nodded, grinning at her. “I’m sure we will.”

  Quint had already packed up his papers an
d gathered up his backpack. Knowing Letty was coming to babysit was a big incentive to get moving.

  Tom and Erica managed one more peck on the lips before she was out the back door and into her old sedan. Quint seemed a little tired, a little quiet. When she used to pick him up after kindergarten, he was always very chatty and full of information. But his after-school wait with Dad at work seemed to wind him down. Glancing into the rearview mirror, Erica saw a big old yawn contorting his face. She silently mused that she could go for a nice nap herself. But she knew she couldn’t and that he wouldn’t.

  Once they were home, she resisted the desire to sit down and put her feet up. Instead she changed her clothes and headed straight for the kitchen. She quickly threw together a meat loaf and put it in the oven. While it was cooking she straightened the house, put a load of towels in the wash and commented positively on Quint’s efforts on his video game karaoke.

  By the time she was setting the table, she was about half way hoping that her sister would call up and cancel her visit. But she did not. Letty showed up early, before Tom had even gotten home from work.

  The two sisters didn’t look much alike. Erica was medium height and curvy. Letty, on the other hand, was almost six feet tall. She was as long and lean as any runway model, which was what her mom had wanted for her. Erica was supposed to marry a doctor and Letty was supposed to grace the covers of fashion magazines. Neither had chosen to live out Mom’s fantasy.

  Now a senior at UTSA, Letty had gotten a bare-bones scholarship and, with a lot of hard work, had turned it into exceptional grades and top-tier opportunities for graduate school. Her first love was physics and she had worked the previous summer cataloging condensed matter at Rice University’s Ultracold Lab. She wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted to do with her life yet. Whatever it was, Erica was certain it would be exceptional, because that’s what her sister was all about.

  “I love eating over here,” Letty told her. “It always feels like a real home.”

  “It is a real home,” Erica replied, laughing.

  “I know, but I like how you make a big deal of it,” Letty said. “Most of the people I know, their kids eat fast food in the car on the way to somewhere. With you it’s like Norman Rockwell or something.”