Celeste opened the bag, reached in, grabbed a Nestle Crunch, handing it to him.
He slid the sleeve off the candy bar and peeled back the tin foil, broke off a piece and put it in his mouth. Now he put the Z28 in gear, hit the gas and pulled out of the parking lot, tires squealing.
Teddy said, “What the hell took so long?”
“I had some trouble,” Celeste said. “Man forgot his manners.”
“Teach him a lesson, did you?”
“Let’s just say he’s going to have one whopper of a headache when he wakes up.”
Teddy finished the candy bar, rolled the tin foil into a ball and threw it in the backseat. “Want to tell me what happened?”
Celeste heard a siren and said, “Think you could go a little faster?” They were on 94 passing City Airport outside Detroit.
“What’s the matter?” Teddy said. “You got to go tee tee?”
He didn’t catch on real fast.
Teddy said, “Give me a beer.”
Celeste opened a minicooler on the floor next to her feet, took out an ice-cold can of MGD dripping water, and handed it to Teddy. She wiped her cold wet hand on her jeans. He popped the top, took a long drink and put it between his legs.
“Anyway,” Celeste said, “I was standing in line waiting to pay for a bottle of Cold Duck, this rude dick with ears steps in front of me with a couple six-packs like I wasn’t there.”
“What’d he look like?”
Celeste said, “Just a normal-looking redneck in Levi’s and a wifebeater, could’ve been your twin brother.”
“Didn’t look anything like me,” Teddy said. “I seen him get out of a red Dodge 4? 4, go in the store.”
She liked messing with him, pushing him to a point where he’d start to get angry and then ease up. A Wayne County sheriff ’s deputy blew past them going the other way, Ford 500, lights flashing.
Teddy looked over at her. “You do something back there?”
His little brain was starting to catch on. “That’s what I was getting to, if you’d let me continue.”
Teddy fixed his attention on the rearview mirror, watching the cop car.
“I said to him-”
“Who?” Teddy said.
“Redneck in the party store,” Celeste said. “You got the attention span of a fucking gnat.”
“If you weren’t taking all day to tell this exciting story, maybe I’d be able to follow you.”
“I said to the redneck…” She looked at Teddy. “Still with me, or should I go slower?”
Teddy gave her a dirty look.
“I said to him, ‘What am I, invisible? You don’t see me standing here?’
“Know what he said? Nothing. Ignored me.”
Teddy brought the beer can up to his mouth, finished it, squeezed the can almost flat and threw the empty over his shoulder into the backseat and glanced at Celeste. “Another one bites the dust.”
She opened the cooler, took out a can of MGD, gave it to Teddy, reached over and wiped her wet hand on his T-shirt.
He said, “Hey, you’re getting me all wet.”
“I was standing behind him. Gripped the Cold Duck bottle with two hands, swung it like a baseball bat, hit him on the side of his head, and believe me I got all of it. Would’ve been an off-the-wall double. The bottle exploded and he went down, crashing to the floor and didn’t move. The skinny geek manager behind the counter whose name was Jerry asked if I could find everything okay? And was there anything else I needed.”
Teddy drank some beer and played air guitar to “Lookout Mountain” by the Drive-By Truckers, looking over at her occasionally, grinning.
“I said, ‘Jer-Bear, I need two packs of Marlboro Lights, some Juicy Fruit, a couple of Nestle’s Crunches, a twelve of MGD and a bottle of Cold Duck.’ And while he was getting everything together, I thought, what the hell. He put it all on the counter, looked up at me and I said, ‘There is one more thing-I’ll take your money, too, all of it, including the big bills under the tray.’ I had the. 38 Ruger pointed at him. He cleaned out the register and asked me if I wanted a bag. ‘No, dumbshit,’ I said, ‘I’m going to walk out of here, let everyone see the money I just robbed.’ Know what he said then? ‘Paper or plastic?’ You believe it?”
Teddy’s eyes were glued to her now. “What kind of dumbfuck stunt was that? You don’t go in, rob a place by yourself-you don’t know who’s in the back watching you on a video monitor, come out with a shotgun.”
“It just happened. Police would’ve come one way or the other. I figured I’d take advantage of the situation. What’s the problem? You’re going to get half of what’s in the bag and it was a piece of cake.”
“You don’t do that,” Teddy said. “We got rules.”
The car was drifting over the center line now, heading for an approaching SUV.
Celeste said, “We got rules on the highway, too-you keep your car in the lane, don’t run into somebody head-on like you’re about to do.”
Teddy looked up, swerved right, went too far, and overcorrected, the Z28 sliding off-road on gravel. Celeste thinking they were going into the ditch, but Teddy surprised her, got it under control, and they were back on the highway, cruising like nothing happened. He’d said he was a racecar driver-and maybe he was.
“Don’t say nothing,” Teddy said. “Don’t say a fucking word.”
They rode in silence, Celeste staring straight down the road listening to the Truckers doing “Hell No, I Ain’t Happy”:
There’s a lot of bad wood underneath the veneer
She’s an overnight sensation after twenty-five years
Teddy trying to sing along, getting a word right here and there like he knew it-in a voice that didn’t understand tone or style.
After a time, Celeste said, “Want me to drive, let you enjoy your buzz?”
Teddy looked over and grinned. “Tell me why I shouldn’t haul off and pop you?”
“ ’Cause if you do, I’ll leave you.” She pulled the Ruger out and aimed it at him. “Or maybe I’ll shoot you.”
“Go ahead,” Teddy said. He looked at her with a lunatic grin and started turning the wheel back and forth, the Z28 doing slalom turns in the lane, going wider, tires making contact with gravel.
Celeste said, “What’re you doing?”
“What’re you doing?” Teddy said.
“Fucking with you,” Celeste said.
“Me too,” Teddy said.
Celeste put the gun back in her shoulder bag.
Teddy stopped turning the wheel, put the car back on course.
He had the hair-trigger temper of an adolescent, like somebody put him to sleep when he was fourteen and woke him up yesterday. Give him shit, he’d give it back to you harder.
“Before I get any more pissed off,” Teddy said, “tell me how much you got?”
Celeste took the money out of the plastic bag, a pile of bills in her lap and started counting. When she was finished, she looked at Teddy and said, “Guess.”
“It’s never easy with you, is it?”
“Want it to be easy, get yourself somebody has no imagination, does what they’re told.” She reached over, slid her hand slowly, gently, along his inner thigh, fingertips gliding over his jeans. She reached between his legs, felt the bulge of his manhood, fondling him, teasing him, holding him and tightening her grip, Teddy squirming, looking down at her hand with red nails painted a color called Passion Punch.
Teddy saying, “Easy.”
A look of concern on his face now, not sure what she was going to do, but wanting more.
Celeste said, “Ou okay?” in her baby-talk voice. “I’m not hurting widdo Ted, am I? Should we get him out, have some fun? Or should I count the money? Decisions, decisions.”
In spite of their differences-and there were a couple thousand of them-they’d been together three years. Teddy had a few hang-ups, which wasn’t surprising for a guy who grew up an only child on a farm in Perks, a little town in southern Illinois.
Celeste said, “Where exactly is Perks at?”
Teddy said, “South of Carbondale, east of Cape Girardo.” He laughed, Jesus, bent over like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard in his life.
Celeste said, “Okay, I give up.”