Elmore Leonard - Gold Coast

ONE DAY Karen DiCilia put a few observations together and realized her husband Frank was sleeping with a real estate woman in Boca.

Karen knew where they were doing it, too. In one of the condominiums Frank owned, part of Oceana Estates.

Every Friday afternoon and sometimes on Monday, Frank would put his spare clubs in the trunk of his Seville-supposedly to play at La Gorce, Miami Beach-and drive north out of Fort Lauderdale instead of south.

There were probably others, random affairs. Frank did go to Miami at least twice a week to study the market and play a little gin at the Palm Bay Club. He could have a cocktail waitress at Hialeah or Calder. He visited the dogtracks regularly, the jai-alai fronton once in awhile. Cruised for gamefish out in the stream with some of his buddies; went bonefishing in the Keys, near Islamorada, several times a year. Frank could have something going anywhere from Key West to West Palm, over to Bimini and back and probably did. The only one Karen was sure of, though, was the frosted-blonde thirty-six-year-old real estate woman in Boca.

Franks actions, his routine, were predictable; but not his reactions. If she confronted him, or hinted around first, with questions like, Do I know her? or, Are you going to tell me who she is?

Frank would say, Whore we talking about?

And Karen would say, I know youve got a girl friend. Why dont you admit it?

And Frank would say-

He might say, Nobody told you I have a girl friend and you havent seen me with anybody that could be a girl friend, so whatre we talking about?

And Karen would say, The real estate woman in Boca, and offer circumstantial evidence that wouldnt convict him but would certainly put him in a corner.

He might deny it out right. Or he might say, Yeah, sometimes I go to Boca. Not that its any of your fucking business.

Then what? Shed have to get mad or pout or act hurt.

So Karen didnt say a word about the real estate woman. Instead, she drove her matching white Caddy Seville up to Boca one Friday afternoon, to the big pink condominium that looked like a Venetian palace.

She located Franks white Seville in the dim parking area beneath the building, on the ocean side, backed it out of the numbered space with the spare set of keys shed brought, left Franks car sitting in the aisle, got into her own car again and drove her white Seville into the side of his white Seville three times, smashing in both doors and the front fender of Franks car, destroying her own cars grille and headlamps and drove back to Lauderdale. When Frank came home he looked from one matching Seville to the other. Karen waited, but he didnt say a word about the cars. The next day he had them towed away and new matching gray ones delivered.

Weeks later, in the living room, she said, Im getting tired of tennis. And said to the dog, sniffing around her feet, Gretchen, leave, will you? Get out of here.

Play golf, Frank said. He patted his leg and the gray and white schnauzer jumped up on his lap.

I dont care for golf.

Join some ladies group. Gently stroking the schnauzer.

Ive done ladies groups.

Take up fishing, Ill get you a boat.

Do you know what I do? Karen said. I exist. I sit in the sun. I try to think up work for Marta and for when the gardener comes- She paused a moment. When we got married-I mean at our wedding reception, you know what my mother said to me?

What?

She said, I hope you realize hes Italian. She didnt know anything else, just your name.

Half Italian, Frank said, half Sicilian. Theres a difference. Like Gretchen here-stroking the dog on his lap, the dog dozing-shes part schnauzer, part a little something else, so that makes her different.

You dont get it, do you? Karen said.

Get what? Shes from Grosse Pointe. I lived in Grosse Pointe one time. Whats that? You buy a house.

She wasnt being a snob. At least not when she said it.

All right, what did she mean Im Italian? What was she? Hill, maybe it was shortened from Hilkowski. Are you a Polack maybe? Whatre we talking about?

What she meant, Karen said, the way you lived, what you were used to. Youd probably be set in your ways. Youd have your man things to do, and Id have to find woman things to do. And she was right, not even knowing anything about what you really did, or might still be doing, I dont know, since you dont tell me anything.

Im retired. Frank said, and youre tired of playing tennis and sitting around. All right, what do you want to do?

Maybe Ill just do it and not tell you, Karen said.

Do what? Frank asked.

Not tell you where I go or who I see. Or make up something. Tell you Im going to play tennis but I dont, I go someplace else.

Stick to tennis, Frank said. He stopped stroking Gretchen. You have a very hard time coming right out and saying something. You want to threaten me, is that it? Because youre bored? Are you telling me youre gonna start fooling around? If thats what youre saying, say it. A man comes to me and gives me some shit out the side of his mouth. I tell him thats it, get the fuck out or talk straight. Now Im much more patient with you, Karen, youre my wife and I respect you. Youre an intelligent, good-looking woman. I tell you something, I know you understand what Im saying. Im not dumb either, even though I didnt go to the University of Michigan when I was younger or one of those. Especially Im not gonna look dumb, like have people point to me and say, Yeah, thats the guy, his wifes ballin the tennis pro, the dumb fucks paying the bill, anything like that. No-you get bored and a little irritable, okay, use your head, work it out some way. But dont ever lie to me, all right? Or threaten me, like youre gonna pay me back for something. I know all about paying back. I could write a book about paying back then look at it and realize I left a few things out.

My mother was right, Karen said. You can do anything you want, but I cant.

Your mother- Youre a big girl, Frank said, you were a big girl, what?, forty years old when we got married. You should know a few things by forty years old, uh, what its gonna be like married to a half-Italian with varied and different business interests. You know what its like? In the Bible. You got this house, eight hundred grand-sightseers come by the Intercoastal in the boats, look at it, Jesus Christ, imagine living in a place like that. You got the apartment in Boca on the ocean. You got clothes, anything you want to buy. Servants, cars, clubs-

Go on, Karen said. I have a dog-

Place in the Keys. Friends-

Your friends.

Im saying its like in the Bible, you got anything you want to make you happy. Except theres one thing youre not allowed to do, and its not even unreasonable, its the natural law.

What is?

A wifes faithful to her husband, subject to him. Its in the Bible.

If I dont tell you what Im doing, Im being unfaithful?

What do you want to argue for? Havent I been good to you? Jesus Christ, look around here, this place. The paintings, the furniture-

Your first wifes antiques.

I dont get it. Five years, you dont say a word-

Five and a half, Karen said.

Okay, theres some very rare, valuable pieces here. I happen to like this kind of stuff, Frank said. But anything you dont like, sell it. Redecorate the whole place if you want.

Keep me busy.

Whats the matter with you?

Saying she was bored and irritable-while he went off to visit his girl friend in Boca, a real estate woman. Five and a half years of playing the good wife and now having the Bible thrown at her.

Karen made a mistake then, but was too angry to realize it at the time.

She gave Frank an ultimatum. She said, No more double standard. If its all right for you to fool around, its all right for me to fool around. I may not want to, but Ill do it, buddy, as a matter of principle and you can see how you like it.