Perfect Match (9 page)

“Sandy and I went by to pick her up one night to see if she
wanted to go out for drinks and she came to the door quoting Bible scripture
about the evils of drinking and sins of the flesh…stuff like that. Scary stuff,
if you know what I mean.”

Roscoe thought about that.

“I’ve made some bad blunders, Billy. I wasn’t very nice to
her that night. I mean nothing sexual happened between us. I put her out of the
car on a dark street because she kept nagging me about my driving.” He paused.
“That was probably the smartest thing I did that night.” He shook his head.
“She would’ve been killed in the wreck.” He looked down at his foot.

Billy coughed. “Hey, man things will get better. We’ll get
back in the swing of things.”

Roscoe turned to his friend. “Billy, am I a jerk?”

“Hey, come on, D.R., what kind of question is that? I’m your
best friend, remember?”

“Call me Roscoe from now on. Am I a jerk?” He insisted.

Billy studied him a moment. “What kind of shit are they
putting in your veins? In the past two seconds you’ve changed your name and now
asking me some psycho question. What kind of meds are you hooked on?”

“Not hooked on anything. Haven’t smoked, snorted, or had any
alcohol in almost a month.” He chuckled. “I think it’s called being sober, and
I’ve actually had some complete thoughts. I kind of like the feeling. It’s
different, refreshing.” He paused. “Am I a jerk?”

Billy ran his hand across his face, paced to the door,
looking up and down the hall, and then took his seat again, looking at his
friend. “You serious about the question?”

“Very.”

“Tell me about the name change to Roscoe and I’ll answer the
question.”

“Fair enough. D.R. is nothing more than two letters of the
alphabet, and I haven’t given any meaning to them. D.R. is a fake label that
I’ve hidden behind. I sort of like the name Roscoe. Maybe I can do it justice.”

Billy took a deep breath and let it out, shaking his head,
“You ain’t been watching some of them screaming televangelist or anything, have
you?”

“Hell no.”

They both laughed.

Billy looked at his friend. Got his courage up and said,
“Yes, Roscoe, D.R., whoever you are, you’re a jerk. The biggest one I know.”

Roscoe nodded thoughtfully. “What’d I do to become one?”

“Damn, D.R., I mean Roscoe,” shaking his head, “why not
leave things alone?

Roscoe waited.

Billy finally said, “It was always about you. Everything was
always about you. You were the loudest, the richest, the most flamboyant,
always first, with the latest, the best, and the newest.” Flailing his hands
and arms, he unleashed years of feelings. “Everything was all about D.R. this,
and D.R. that.” He took a deep breath. “You never asked about other people. You
were the center.

“You don’t really know much about me, D.R., I mean Roscoe.”
Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, “This Roscoe shit ain’t gonna work.
Damn.” After a pause, he said, “Well, you’ll probably never speak to me again
after all this.”

Roscoe studied him a long moment, mulling over the harsh
reality of what he’d just heard.

“Billy, you’re a better friend now than when you arrived. I
wish I’d had the courage years ago to hear what you just told me. And you’re
right, I don’t know much about anyone else in my life, and especially you, and
you’ve been a lifelong friend. I wish I’d been a better listener.” He shook his
head, looking across the room out his door.

Turning back to Billy, he said, “You looked worried when you
came through the door. Tell me about it.”

“Hey, man, I didn’t come here to make you feel bad and
unload my troubles.”

Roscoe chuckled. “After the confession I just gave you,
you’d better be honest with me.”

Billy looked pained. “I’m about to lose my house. I’ve
already turned my car in to the dealership, couldn’t make the payments. I’m
behind five payments on my mortgage, and I don’t have any more wiggle room on
three credit cards.”

Perspiration trickled down his face and neck like
condensation on a cold glass of bear on a hot muggy day, and he was wishing he
had a six pack right now. “I disconnected the utilities to save a few bucks,
and I’ve been staying with Sandy. She’s got a small two bedroom apartment.”

His face brightened. “She cooks the best fried chicken ever.
You probably noticed she’s closer to our age, and I’m okay with that. She’s a
nice easy going country gal, and she…she likes me.” His voice cracked. “That’s
something different in my life…she had a rough life growing up also.” He sat
clasping his hands, staring at the floor.

Silence filled the room. They heard human groans from the
far end of the corridor, echoing.

“How’s the real estate job working out?”

“Nothing’s selling. I was wasting my time there. I picked up
a warehouse job at Bluerock Building and Supply, but it only pays about five
hundred a week. I like the work, being outside, doing stuff with my hands. I
sub for some of the other guys on my day off, but every time I save up enough
to make a double mortgage payment some other expense pops up.

“I’ve got an application in to work some night shifts at
Burger King.” Billy wrung his hands. He looked at Roscoe. “Remember when the
two of us signed up for an industrial arts class in high school and our parents
made us drop out because ‘that’s what poor kids took?’ But I’ve always liked
stuff like that, you know building things…”

Roscoe nodded, with a faraway look. “Yep, sure do.”

After thinking through a couple of rough calculations,
Roscoe said, “Rodney is supposed to stop by later with my check book. I want
you to come back tomorrow night. I might be able to help a little.”

“Hey, man, I can’t ask you to do that. No. We’ve never
exchanged money during our friendship.”

“I know you’re not asking, I’m just saying I’d like to help.
You’re still the best friend I’ve got.”

Billy stared at the floor. “I’ll think about it.”

Roscoe looked at Billy. “Did you know I got fired?”

“Hell no, man. I thought you owned the place. How can that
be?”

Roscoe gave Billy the full details of being fired by his
grandmother and that he’d not be able to keep his penthouse, didn’t know what
kind of insurance settlement there’d be on his wrecked Corvette, and that he’d
probably be charged with some traffic violations. On top of that he didn’t know
what kind of job he’d be able to get.

 “Damn, Roscoe, you’re in worse shape than I am.”

After Billy left, Roscoe reflected on their situations. How
could two college-educated guys make such a mess of their lives? How could they
consistently run everything they did in the ground? Nothing but years of
wreckage for both of them, he thought. He grew weary trying to analyze the
mess.

He knew he had a little financial cushion in his checking
account, but he had almost no savings. He’d lived from paycheck to paycheck,
like so many other people. He was foolish enough to think he’d be CEO of
Fallington forever. He started thinking about what he’d like to do, but he
didn’t know if it would be possible, with his banged up foot. Hell, he didn’t
know what he could do.

Anger swirled around inside, but this time he was angry at
himself, no one else.

Later Rodney showed up with a small leather portfolio. “Hope
I got all the things you wanted. I collected your mail, and I had the cleaning
service clean your penthouse one last time and told them you wouldn’t need them
until later.”

“Thanks for doing that, and thanks for coming by. You and
Billy are the only visitors I’ve had.”

Rodney sat down and was staring at the scar on his face.
“Does that hurt?” he asked, pointing.

“A little tender. Does it look bad?”

“Not...not really.”

But Roscoe caught the hesitation in Rodney’s voice.

“Plastic surgeon said she could maybe tinker with it a
little later on. We’ll see. I’ll just have to deal with it. So what’s going on
with you?”

Rodney started bouncing his knee. Roscoe caught the
movement.

“Something I need to tell you, D.R.”

“Uh…from now on I’m Roscoe, not D.R. anymore.”

Rodney’s knee stopped mid-bounce. “What…what brought that
on? I thought you liked D.R.?”

“Hated it. Used it as something to hide behind all these
years. I thought it was fancy sounding, but it was really stupid.” He shook his
head.

Rodney said, “I always liked granddad Roscoe. He was a
saint.”

“Well, I’m not a saint, but I’m going to try and live up to
the name.” He chuckled. “What were you going to tell me?”

The knee started bouncing. “So much has been going on, but I
thought I may as well add to all the drama.” He paused. “Wilma and I are
divorcing. I’m gay, Roscoe.”

He thought a moment. “As far as I’m concerned you’re Rodney,
my brother, just like always.”

Rodney’s knee stopped bouncing. “I thought you might pitch a
fit.”

Roscoe chuckled. “A few weeks ago I probably would have just
for the hell of it. But Rodney, who am I to judge anyone? I’ve been a fool ever
since high school. I like females, but I don’t know why or when I decided that,
so I’m pretty open about an individual’s sexuality. You’re not going to catch
any grief from me.” He changed the subject. “How is Wilma? What about your
house?”

“Wilma understands. We’ve had some long talks. She’s going
to stay in the house until we sell it. The realtor has a couple of prospects.
We won’t get full market price, but we’ll make a profit since we bought the
house ten years ago. What about your penthouse, are you going to keep it?”

Roscoe laughed. “What, me keep a million dollar penthouse on
$24,000 a year?” His eyes drifted around the room. “Not sure what I’ll end up
doing.”

Rodney exhaled a long breath. “Why were we at such odds with
each other through the years?”

Roscoe took time to think through the question. “Not really
sure, but a few things stand out for me. You were older and off at college. I
was stuck in the middle of dad and mom’s drinking and partying. They kept
comparing me with you, and I resented that. I always felt over-shadowed by you.
I grew to resent dad and mom even more after they died, because I was then
surrounded by nannies and tutors, and I hated it. I couldn’t even turn to you,
my brother, for help or support.”

He shook his head. “I realize now grandmother was trying her
best to sub for no parents, and try to hold the business together. Don’t know
how she did both. I’m sure she thought I was a worthless little shit. Guess she
finally accepted it when she fired my ass last month. Huh.”

Rodney said, “That’s so backwards because I felt lesser than
you Roscoe. You seemed to be the outgoing leader that I felt I could never be.”

Roscoe scoffed, “I was no leader; I was loud and noisy and
that can fool a lot of people, when you don’t have any substance to offer.
Think about it, all I’ve done in life is play at everything.”

Silence surrounded the brothers.

Roscoe ventured, “How’re things going at the office?”

Rodney’s face brightened. “You wouldn’t recognize the place.
Everybody’s working, and no one leaves the office before five-thirty or six at
the end of the day.”

“Has…has the new CEO fired anyone yet?”

Rodney chuckled. “Not yet, but Hollis would be my bet. His
cynicism has been on full display this week in the staff meeting.”

“Yeah, and I’ll bet he’s trying to figure out how to screw
the CEO, literally. Hollis is too much like me.” Roscoe sighed.

“Well, good luck to him if he tries anything with Madison.
She is a no-nonsense woman.” He studied Roscoe a moment. “Why didn’t you like
her?”

Roscoe shifted around on his bed. “She intimidated me.”

Disbelief dropped Rodney’s jaw and widened his eyes. “How,
for God’s sake?”

“For starters she had no trouble with the job from the day
you hired her. She started catching every little mistake around the office, but
knew how to fix it. She seemed to know everything about the office
operations…and I guess she did. I knew I was on cruise control or autopilot, or
out to lunch, so yes I felt uncomfortable around her. She was so damned
efficient, about everything.

“Hell, Rodney, look how she took complete control of the
staff meeting the day I got fired. She spouted more information about the
company than I ever knew, and grandmother ate it up. I didn’t know half of what
she was talking about that day.”

“If you knew she was that smart, why wouldn’t you let me pay
her more than $24,000 a year?”

Roscoe sighed again, and shook his head. “The truth? I was
hoping she’d quit, and now she’s the CEO and I’m in this smelly hospital with a
busted foot.”

Rodney sat straighter, defensively. “Well, I hope you’re not
blaming Madison for your…your—”

“No, no, I’m not blaming her. Hell, I don’t know that much
about her. She was too old for me, and I barely looked at her, and I didn’t
have chit-chat with her. I doubt I’d recognize her if I saw her on the street.”
He looked at his brother, chewing on his bottom lip, shaking his head.

After a few minutes of silence, Rodney stood, looking down
at his brother, shaking his head. “One suggestion. Tell the doctor to forget
about your foot and give you a brain transplant and new eyes.”

Roscoe stared at the wall clock, thinking over the
conversation with Rodney, after he left. Thinking that everything, absolutely
everything was just falling apart around him. He picked up his portfolio that
Rodney had brought him, and pulled out his check book. He’d kept his checking
account balanced. At least he’d done something right.

He thought about his friend, Billy, and his financial
troubles. He figured any money he loaned or gave to Billy he might never see
again, but right now he didn’t care. He owed his longtime friend something. He
thumbed through his check book.