I’ve always suspected Ally made the effort to put Darcy and me together whenever possible to provide a balance. Darcy’s the daredevil, the fly-by-the-seat-of-the-pants type. I, on the other hand, am the steady, by-the-book, dependable guy. Let’s just call it what it is, okay–I’m the boring guy who’s been married to one woman all his adult life. My kids love me. My dog loves me. Even my in-laws love me.
Darcy’s been on my backside for years about my diabetes. I use my insulin religiously, but he acts like I’m in possession of a weapon of mass destruction every time I pick up a donut! He should talk. Only recently did he give up his three-packs-a-day cigarette habit. His cholesterol could block the Holland tunnel, and every time his blood pressure is taken, the EMTs are called.
For whatever reason, Darcy and I are friends. We have nothing in common, but we’re good friends. I’ve been around through his countless ex-girlfriends, including one who had a license to carry and use a gun. With Darcy’s talent for ticking off women, he had to be suicidal to have even consideredgetting involved with that one.
I came after the three ex-wives, so I didn’t know much about that part of his life, but it didn’t surprise me that he’d been thrice-divorced. What has surprised me is his recent obsessive behavior toward ex-wife number three. They’ve been divorced going on fourteen years now, and all of a sudden he’s got this crazy idea that her new husband is some kind of spook.
And by “spook,” I don’t mean he’s a spy….
Author’s Note: I can see local favorite John Goodman as Charlie.