We were in the car talking when I gave Lisa the bracelet.
She said, “But Bobby. I don’t wear jewelry.”
It was true. I had considered that. But that was why she might wear one piece. For me. For us, even.
“You could try one bracelet,” I said.
She knew jewelry and could see well enough for herself what kind of a bracelet it was. But I wished I could tell her they were natural pearls.
“It’s very pretty,” she said. “It’s nice. But I’m so busy. I’m not one of these women who lives in a showcase, Bobby. I would just break it.”
“It’s old,” I said. “It’s stronger than it looks.”
“You know how much I love to swim. I would forget it by the pool or I would break it swimming.” She laughed. “I guess they are pearls, though.”
“You are right,” I said. “You might not want to wear those pearls in a swimming pool.” I could not think about those pearls in water with chemicals.
“Anyway, the point is I can’t wear jewelry in my business,” she said. “It’s asking for trouble. I would just have to take it off. And if I forget about it and leave it somewhere…”
“You wouldn’t forget it,” I said.
“I might,” she said. “Sometimes I’m in a hurry to get out.”
•
Lisa’s boyfriend drove a blue Toyota pickup. They knew my car, so I stayed back. They went to an apartment complex off Eastchase. It was not too far from the temporary furnished apartment I had rented when I first left the house. It was a gated complex, like most of them over there, so I parked around the corner, on the street. You could not park there but I didn’t think I would be long. I looked for a place to climb the fence. They would be on the second or third floor and the truck would be near the apartment. Most of the fence was metal and there was nothing to grip on but I found a section of old wooden fencing near the pool and used a plastic garbage can that was there to climb over. It was rainy and no one was at the pool. I walked into the laundry room to make myself inconspicuous. Often the manager’s office was near the pool and I didn’t know if I had been seen climbing the fence. It would have been better if I were not in a suit. I got a Diet Coke out of the machine. A man was there in a jogging outfit doing his laundry and he nodded at me.
“Cold for October,” he said.
I tried to look as though I belonged. I opened the top of a washing machine.
“They work fine,” he said. “New machines. But a buck-fifty a load is steep.” He eyed me like he knew something was up.
“That is steep,” I agreed. “I guess because they’re new.”
“Uh-huh,” he said. He looked like the kind of person who would go to the office to report a suspicious person.
“My name is Plater,” I said. “Adam Plater.” We shook hands. He had a limp handshake like he didn’t want to shake my hand.
“I’ve seen you on TV. You are that jeweler. Are you thinking of moving here?”
“That’s right,” I said. “But I’m not that jeweler. I get that all the time, though.”
“No, you’re him, all right. You got a girlfriend here or something? Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said. He was baring his teeth. “If you ever need anything,” I said, and hurried out of the laundry room.
I almost climbed back over the fence. Then I realized I could walk out the front. But I didn’t want Lisa and her boyfriend to see me if they were leaving. Or if he was still in the truck, waiting. I knew that the man from the laundry room was watching me. But I could not look back over my shoulder to check. I walked into the manager’s office. It was right there next to the pool. I came in a back door and sat down at the rental desk in front. I ate a candy from the dish on the desk. A vase on the desk held fake birds-of-paradise. There was dust on the orange and blue blossoms. In a minute an attractive young woman in a cheap nylon suit came around a corner with half a sandwich in her hand.
“You caught me,” she said. “Can I help you?”
“I want to rent an apartment,” I said.
“Good!” she said. She looked like a pleasant person. She was wearing a silver charm bracelet and CZ earrings.
“What sort of an apartment are you looking for?” she said. She looked past me into the parking lot for my car. She wanted to see what sort of apartment I could afford.
“My car’s around the corner,” I said. “I had some difficulty finding the office.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Are you looking for a one-bedroom or something larger?”
•
By the time I left the apartment complex with my copy of the application form in my hand my car had been towed. I sat on the curb for a few minutes. I took off my shoes and socks and rubbed my feet in the sand and pebbles in the gutter. The cold gravel felt good on my feet. But the rain was picking up and I was getting wet. I called Jim.
“Where have you been?” he said. “I’ve been calling you for an hour. Morgan was here. He waited and then gave up. I finally showed him the opal myself.”
“Did he like it?”
“No,” he said.
“That opal was perfect for him,” I said.
“Is it a doublet? It looks like a doublet.”
“No, it’s not a doublet. It’s eight grand a carat, Jim.”
“I told him I thought it was a doublet. It looked too good. There was no price on the paper.”
“I don’t believe you told him it was a doublet. He’ll think I was lying to him.”
“Just tell him you screwed up. Where are you?”
It had taken me a month to find that opal. It was the perfect opal for Morgan. I was competing with a new dealer on Preston for the sale. I did not know how Morgan had found this independent dealer. He had been my best customer for three years. Now Jim had told him it was a doublet.
“My car was towed. I need you to come get me.”
“We’re stacked up over here. I can’t come get you. Where the hell are you? Are you drunk? Are you at a titty bar?”
“I’m over on Eastchase. I parked illegally. I’m sitting in the rain. Send a salesman, then. Send Sosa.”
“I’ll send the Polack. Where are you? On Eastchase? What the hell are you doing on Eastchase?”
“No, don’t send the Polack. Don’t say anything to the Polack. If the Polack asks, I went to lunch. I’ll explain when I get there.”
I am going to catch a cold, I thought. That would be okay. I could use a few days off.
It started to rain more heavily. I pulled my blazer off and held it over my head. I held my phone with my chin.
“Bobby! Are you there? I can barely hear you. I thought you were going to lunch. What the fuck are you up to? You had better get your act together. You are fucking up. We needed that Morgan deal. You had better get your shit together.”
We made the swap outside, at the curb.
“Thanks for coming to the store,” I said.
It had been my day with Claire. I had taken her to the new meerkat show at the Fort Worth Zoo.
We could have met at the house but I avoided our house now, because she tried so hard to get me to come by the house. For a few months I carried a beeper she bought for me and it went off constantly. I kept my cell phone turned off. One night at three in the morning she beeped and then the cell phone rang because I had forgotten to turn it off. When I answered she told me she could hear a burglar outside. “He’s out there right now,” she said. This was my wife. I had married this woman. That comes with certain obligations.