Crazy People: The Crazy for You Stories Read online

  Then Mama drove up with a tuna surprise casserole, and she said, “Deborah Jo, what is that naked man doing in your front yard?” Darla said, “Warming up, Mama, warming up.” Then she told Mama that potato chips on a casserole were unhealthy because of the high fat content, and Mama said that without the potato chips there wouldn’t be any surprise, and Darla said potato chips on a casserole hadn’t been a surprise since 1952, and Mama got so aggravated, she left. I do love Darla. Then we both got beers and stood at the window and watched Darrin mow the grass. And Darla said, “Deborah Jo, it’s time to forget that worthless skunk you married and move on,” and I said, “Darla Jean, I am thinking about it.” But I really wasn’t because I am married to you, Ronnie. But I did feed Darrin that casserole later, and he did mention the potato chip topping so I guess Mama was right again. And tomorrow, I’m making dinner for him since he’s going to fix the bathroom sink and he says he loves home cooking and isn’t getting any. But he isn’t getting anything else because I am still your wife, even if you don’t deserve me.

  Debbie

  PPPS. I got your letter yesterday, Ronnie. It was thoughtful of you to say you hoped I was doing fine, although I could have done without the “PS” from Barbara saying she hoped we could still be friends. Where she got the “still” part I will never know because I have never been friends with anyone who wears that color of eye shadow that Darla has taken to calling “Bank Slut Blue.” Women who wear eye shadow like that look like they do it for nickels, that’s all there is to it.

  But since you asked, I am more than fine. Darrin Mueller’s been taking real good care of me, and I’ve gotten a whole lot done. Like yesterday morning, after I got your letter, I took all your clothes out to the garage, and this woman pulled up in a Bonneville and she said, “You having a garage sale?” And Ronnie, I looked that woman right in the eye and I said, “Yes.” And she said, “Is that men’s clothes? What size?” and I said, “Extra large and stupid,” and she said, “I’ve got one of those. What’s in there and how much?” And I looked in the window of her car and her little boy was holding a McDonald’s bag, and I felt really hungry for the first time since you left, so I said, “I’ll trade you all of it for that McDonald’s.” And she ripped that bag away from that little boy, and he started to yell, and she said, “Shut up, Jason, I’ll get you another Happy Meal in a minute.” Then she took off with all your things, and I sat on the curb and ate that Happy Meal, and it was the best thing I’d eaten in years.

  Of course I didn’t give away the Mustang. It’s waiting for you in the driveway with the key in the ignition, and like Darla said, even if somebody steals it, it’s not going to be hard to find. You just tell the police that it’s a cherry condition, 1975 baby blue convertible with “Bengals Suck” spray-painted on one side in my handwriting and “Barbara Is A Lousy Lay” on the other side in Darla’s.

  There is just one more thing I have to tell you, Ronnie , for your own good and for Barbara’s. And I think you should know that I did share this with Darrin Mueller last night. “Darrin,” I said to him when we were finished breathing heavy, “I have to say that it is a pleasure not faking it any more. The truth is, Ronnie Luterbein couldn’t make summer come in June, that’s how bad he is in bed.” I know that’s painful for you to hear, Ronnie, but I’m telling you this for your own good, so that when Barbara starts moaning like I did, you’ll know that she’s just doing it out of the goodness of her heart. And then you can try harder. And now that I’ve gotten to know Darrin better, I can tell you that longer would be good, too.

  So, I’m feeling pretty good right now, especially since Darrin’s asked me to marry him, and I think I’m going to because like Mama says, women are meant to be married, although thinking about you does sometimes make me wonder why. Which reminds me, I filed for divorce today, and I put the house on the market, since it’s in my name so the creditors couldn’t take it away from you if the hardware store folded. Remember when you did that, back when we were first married? You said it didn’t matter whose name the house was in because we were going to be together forever, Ronnie and Debbie until the end of time.

  I’ll make sure you get half.

  Debbie

  PPPPS: Well, Ronnie, today’s the day you’re coming home. I’m heading over to Darrin’s now and he’s going to barbecue me a steak for supper. I figure that should give you enough time to pick up the car and find this letter taped to the windshield. I know this has some harsh things in it, but those things are also some of the truest things I’ve ever said, and I think you should see how I got to where I am now so you won’t make any dumb mistakes like trying to come back when you change your mind. Because I’m really different now. I didn’t know how different until Darrin was over here last night.

  He was sitting on the sectional, watching the Bengals get creamed again, and I thought about how happy Mama would be to see me watching TV with a man and a wedding ring. I did feel like crying for a minute about us because we were over after twenty-six years…

  That’s when it hit me. We’ve been married for twenty-six years, which means that Daddy has been gone that long, which means Mama hasn’t been married for that long. That woman who has been nagging me to be married and telling me my life is over if I’m not, that woman has been single for twenty-six years, and in all that time, she’s never even gone to so much as a church mixer. I realized then that the reason she’s so hot to have me married is so she can hold her head up high in public and then go home and eat Cheetos and watch Harrison Ford at three o’clock in the morning. And I sat up and said, “Well, damn,” and Darrin said, “I know, aren’t they pitiful?” thinking I was talking about the Bengals, and I looked at him sitting on the sectional, and I thought, “Debbie Jo Headapohl, you have been given a gift here. Ronnie Luterbein just handed you back the rest of your life. Don’t screw up.”

  So I’m not going to, Ronnie. I’m taking my half of the house money, and I’m putting a down payment on one of those little condos by the river. And I imagine Darrin will be dropping by regularly to develop my imagination, but he’s not moving in. I’ve been there and done that now, and I don’t see any point in doing it again, no matter what Mama says.

  So while I’m not exactly grateful to you for running off like a rat, I do think I’m almost glad it happened. At any rate, I have cut you loose from my list of troubles, since I have more than enough without you, the latest one being Mama, who thinks maybe she’d like to move into one of those condos, too, and you know Mama, she usually gets what she wants. Of course, from now on, I’m thinking I’m going to get what I want, too, so we’ll just have to see what happens.

  Anyway, that’s what you missed while you were on vacation. Just wanted you to know.

  Debbie

  Appendix C: Dog Days - Chapter One

  The last part of my master’s thesis was the proposal for a book called Dog Days that later became Crazy For You. If you’d like to see how a book evolves through the writing and publishing process, you can trace Crazy For You’s growth from the short stories in this book through the publishing proposal I sent to Jennifer Enderlin at St. Martin's Press to the final published book. The chapter below is from the proposal, which is the document a writer sends to an editor when trying to sell a book. A proposal has a synopsis of the plot, which tells her if you have a story, and the first thirty to fifty pages which tell her if you can write. Jen bought Crazy For You based on the chapter below. To see what the book was like when Jen was finished editing it and I was finished rewriting, check out Appendix D, the first chapter of the published Crazy For You.

  Quinn saw the dog as she came out the back door of the high school, bracing herself against the January wind, her arms full of purse and gradebook and portfolios of sophomore charcoal drawings. She thought No, and then the dog skittered across the slick parking lot, scrambling away from the boom of a senior’s Mustang—Corey Possert leaving early from weightlifting, feeling pumped and macho—and she tried to be firm with hers