Part 12 (1/2)
”Pining and self-pitying,” said Kai. ”Such attractive qual ities in a man.” He pitched his baritone an octave higher. ”*Oh, why did my greatest joy turn into my greatest misery? Wah.'”
”Mmm.” Larissa tried not to smile. Kai clearly thought he was being clever and amusing. ”Then how come all the girls think he is a das.h.i.+ng romantic hero?”
”Who? Not the girl he's pining for. And in real life, the girls wouldn't come within a mile of him. Girls hate a whiner.”
”Well,” said Larissa, ”perhaps you're right. Otherwise, we wouldn't have Werther's sorrows.” She stared away into his desk. He read. Why did that impress her? She didn't want him to see that she was impressed; he might find it condescending. But reading Werther! Honestly. About a young man who falls desperately in love with a married woman and kills himself when he realizes he will never have her for his own. Blood rushed to her fingertips. Her fingertips blushed!
”So you like to read?” she asked slowly, sharply regretting giving away eight boxes of her unread books.
”Yeah, I inhale books,” he replied. ”So much better when you don't read for school, don't you think? Everything I read for school I hated. But I can't hate a book now. I find something to like in all of them.”
”You have a favorite?”
”Nah. I'm on a German run at the moment. I finished, The Tin Drum, then Faust, now this.”
Larissa said nothing.
”Well, you want to take the car out one more time? I want you to be sure.” Kai twirled the key on a ring around his finger.
”I'm pretty sure,” she said. Pause. ”Okay, one more time.”
Afterward they got sus.h.i.+ by the cemetery.
That evening Larissa searched and found her old copy of Werther and reread it in one anxious gulp, (why was he reading that?) and the next day went to the bookstore and bought copies of some of the books she had recently donated, making sure they were all distributed among the shelves before Jared came home and had a chance to comment on the oddity of giving away books one week only to buy the same ones again the next.
On Sat.u.r.day afternoon, Larissa returned with Jared. The dealers.h.i.+p was busier than it had been during the week.
Jared and Kai shook hands. Kai seemed taller, if only because of his narrow lanky build. Maybe it was the biker boots he was wearing. Werther had disappeared, replaced with a dogeared Confessions of Felix Krull. Larissa kept her gaze firmly on the desk, and on Jared's shoulder, or his chin, or the windows outside, on anything but the two men standing in proximity eyeing each other over Kai's desk.
”Ah,” said Jared, pointing to the book. ”Felix Krull, the confidence man. I read that a long time ago. How are you enjoying that?”
”It's pretty good,” replied Kai. ”It's witty. I especially like Felix's identification with Hermes, here, of course, in his capacity as the G.o.d of thieves.”
”Yes.” Jared studied Kai. Larissa studied the desk. ”How does the management feel about you reading a book at the dealers.h.i.+p about the G.o.d of thieves?”
”Lucky for me,” said Kai, serious, sober, untwinkly, with a short polite nod, ”the management is somewhat unfamiliar with the later works of Thomas Mann. Otherwise you're right, I'd be in real trouble.” He took the keys from the hooks on the wall. ”Shall we?”
While Jared test-drove the two-seater convertible with Kai, Larissa remained in Kai's cubicle, her eyes on Felix Krull, thinking of Werther and his poetic longings, and also about Krull's shock at discovering how in much of all that he came into contact with, reality was an illusion and illusion reality. Snow was on the ground, they probably wouldn't go far. It was too slippery to drive fast. Would Kai take Jared to Glenside? She wondered what they would talk about. Would Kai be chatty funny, like he was with her?
They were gone ten minutes. ”I like the car,” Jared said to her when he returned. ”I love the car.” She jumped up, excited. Kai went behind his desk to take a phone call. Jared pulled her away to the showroom. ”Not at all sure about the salesman,” he said quietly. ”Has he been giving you the business?”
”No, of course not,” Larissa said, taken aback. ”Why would you say that?”
”I dunno. Something about him. A vibe I get.”
”He's a salesman, Jared,” Larissa said. ”This is what they do. They try to sell us something we don't want at a price we don't want to pay.”
When he considered her, she said quickly, either misunderstanding him or not wanting to understand, ”I do want the car, I do. Pricey, though, huh?”
”Forget that. If he's such a fine salesman, let me ask you, why didn't he say a single thing to me?”
”When you say not a thinga”
”I mean not a word. A syllable.”
Larissa quietly chewed her lip. ”You mean he didn't mention the revolutionary aluminum body construction?”
”Oddly, no. And that might've been a good thing to mention. If you're actually trying to sell the d.a.m.n thing.” Jared stood close. ”We can go somewhere else. We don't have to get it here.” He glanced over at Kai behind the desk.
Larissa tapped Jared to get his attention. ”We can. But why? I like the car. Why don't we talk to Chad, the finance guy? He's Irish. Let's see if the numbers add up.”
”Oh, is that synonymous with good business sense, those two things? Irish and finance?”
They were in the middle of the dealers.h.i.+p, talking in hushed spousal tones. Jared wasn't dressed for success today; on Sat.u.r.days he was all about the comfortable jeans and sweats.h.i.+rts. He hadn't shaved, his hair was s.h.a.ggy. Larissa wished he were more formal. Might make negotiating easier. She didn't want Jared to get squeezed. ”We can go somewhere else if you want,” she said in a resigned voice.
”You want to?” Why did he sound so hopeful?
”Look, I said from the beginning I didn't want the car. You're the one who insisted. Now that I found one I like, you're getting cold feet. Why put me through that? Just get me a necklace or something. Take me out to dinner.”
His hand went on her arm, on her shoulder. He drew her near. ”You're right,” he said. ”I don't need my horse sense here.”
”No, just a little sense.”
”I don't even know what it is.”
”Is it something he said?”
”No! I told you. It's all the things he didn't say. He acted like he didn't even have to sell me on it.”
”And because of that you think he's giving you the business?”
”Well, why else would he be sitting in that car as if it's already a done deal?”
”I don't know, Jared.”
”Revolutionary construction my a.s.s. Okay, let me go try to talk to him. You think maybe he doesn't speak English? Can't be that; he was waxing all English major on me with that Felix Krull bulls.h.i.+t. Hermes, the G.o.d of thieves. The arrogance.” Jared snorted. ”Wait a few minutes, okay?”
”You want me with you? For moral support?”
He squeezed her. ”Let me deal with him my own way. I'll be five minutes.”
Jared returned to Kai's desk while Larissa sat inside the snow-white sedan on the showroom floor and anxiously played with the controls. But the two men seemed to be actually speaking this time. Kai was measured, extremely still in his body, no twitching, jerking, no gratuitous movement of any kind, not even the drumming on the desk with a pencil. Just his mouth moved. They weren't five minutes, more like forty-five. Back and forth, Kai getting up, coming back.
”Larissa,” Jared finally called out to her, ”what color were you thinking of?”