The Tip
by Charles C. Cole
Everybody knows I’m a details guy. If something’s off, I get a vibe that compels me to look until I find the piece of the puzzle that’s not where it should be. It’s a gift and a curse. Professionally, it keeps my boss happy. But, in my personal life, my pressure for perfection can be a real pain in everybody’s tush, including my own.
People are by their very nature imperfect beings. I get that. My father is, big time. My mother is, though she’s in denial. My girlfriend, Dee, is closer to perfect than most, which is why it was a shock recently when something unpleasant happened close to home.
Dee’d spent the night at my place and gotten up early to prepare for work. She takes twice as long as me in the shower, but her office was only a few blocks away, so there was no rush as far as I was concerned. Something about the careful way Dee closed my apartment door on her way out, and the way she didn’t kiss me good-bye, felt out of character, her but not her. So, I got up, glanced around for anything odd, dressed and followed her.
You know how some people when they step out of the car, they kick their trash from their last fast-food banquet out in front of them, without thinking? As Dee stepped out of her car, she dropped a hundred-dollar bill. Boom! Dee lives by credit cards, debit cards and gift cards; she doesn’t deal in cold cash. Ever.
But just that very morning, I’d found myself missing a hundred which had been in my dresser drawer, a generous tip from Bruno “Water Buffalo” Ganz for a recent job done well over near the boatyard in Wiscasset. You see where I’m going.
Coincidence? Maybe. Worth investigating? You betcha. Heartbreaking? Like seeing your sweet granny on her deathbed. Like life. We ain’t none of us getting off God’s little experiment of a planet without making a few mistakes and getting a few bruises along the way. Am I right? Best advice I ever heard: Take what you got coming and learn your lessons commensurate.
I waited till Dee was out of sight, then I palmed her castoff currency and went back to my apartment for another look-see. Maybe second time’s a charm, I told myself. Maybe I’d be pleasantly relieved by a little something on the floor, under the bed, fallen between drawers. A man can dream.
After a day doing odds and ends for my uncle, including surprising a stubborn client needing some “manual course correction,” I met Dee by her car after work. She was plenty surprised, but not pleasantly. I could tell the difference. “Phil, what are you doing here?” she asked.
“I thought I’d walk you home. End your day with some romance. The weather’s finally fit for it.”
“What about my car?” she asked.
“I’ll drive you in tomorrow, and you can take it home then. Your bank’s got a gated lot with tons of light; the car’ll be fine.”
“But I was gonna visit Mom tonight,” she protested, like she’d just remembered.
“Reschedule,” I suggested. “She’ll understand. You’re a grown-up. Life happens.”
“She was looking forward to it. And I’ve never left my car overnight before. I don’t know if it’s safe.”
I was ready with an answer. “If anyone so much as breathes on it, we’ll see it on the cameras. Then I’ll break their legs, and they’ll know better next time. Case closed.”
“Your place or mine?” she asked, finally ready to accommodate my whims.
“I just remembered something I gotta do,” I said, “so let’s go to mine.” She didn’t push me. She didn’t ask questions. In fact, she was quiet most of the way. I tried to keep things light, only I’m not much of a talker, especially when I’m in my head.
When we got to my apartment, Dee waited by the doorway, like she’d never been inside before, like she wasn’t planning on staying.
“Take your shoes off. Make a drink. Make yourself comfortable,” I suggested. “It shouldn’t take me a minute. I just gotta get something.” I excused myself and ducked into my bedroom. “Dee, can you come here a moment? I need an extra set of eyes. I’m getting as blind as my old man. At least I got more hair on top,” I joked.
She didn’t move. I poked my head out. Dee was checking messages on her phone. She hadn’t budged. “Hey! Turn your freaking phone off and help me. This’ll go quicker with two people, I’m thinking.”
“What are we looking for?” she asked, stepping a tiny bit closer, arms crossed tight over her chest.
“WB gave me a nice fat tip, only I can’t seem to find it,” I said.
“Does he want it back?” she asked.
“Hell no, but he might ask me what I did with it. I can’t tell him I lost it.”
“Your bedroom’s a mess. It could be anywhere.”
“Look by the dresser, and I’ll look on the floor.”
She found the hundred where I’d replaced it, in my sock drawer. She stared at it like she’d never seen a hundred before, which I knew wasn’t true. “This it?”
“You’re a lifesaver! This is why I love you,” I said. “You just earned yourself dinner out, on me!” I gave her a quick celebratory peck on the forehead.
She looked a little closer at the hundred and a little closer at me. The message was sent. No other money ever disappeared from my bedroom. Dinner was delicious, by the way. At least for me, circumstantial attitudes had no impact on my appetite or the magic of introducing tastebuds to good food.
There was one delay by the day’s events, though. I’d been planning to propose, but decided to wait a week to get the heebie-jeebies behind us. Some things, to be successful, had to be done right the first time.
Copyright © 2022 by Charles C. Cole
