The first thing Rebecca noticed when she came home
from the Westerley was that the television was on. She
briefly considered that there might be a burglar inside, but
then she recognized Quentin's favorite sports channel. The
announcer's voices were annoyingly familiar, shouting as
though they were reporting the end of the world, instead of
merely the end of a game.
Quentin was indeed there, standing in the living room
by a large cardboard box on the coffee table. He pulled
smaller boxes out of it and counted. She grabbed the remote
control and turned down the volume. Quentin kept
counting, "Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, . . ."
What is he doing here? He was not supposed to come
waltzing into her apartment anytime he wanted. Did she
have to explain "trial separation" to him? At this point, she
wondered if it would be better to explain the term
"permanent separation."
"I thought we were going to be apart for a while?"
Quentin waved his hand to cut her off. "Rebecca,
please. I'm trying to count." He kept pulling out the little
boxes and stacking them on the table, muttering the tally.
Oh no you don't. Not only was he barging back into her
life, he wasn't even apologetic about it. Typical, insensitive
Quentin.
She watched him count, staring in disbelief. "I don't
want you here, Quentin. Go home."
He stopped counting and tapped the number into his
phone before turning his attention to her. "I know you're
mad at me." Then he mumbled, "Although I still don't
understand why." She wondered if this was his idea of an
apology.
Apparently it was. He gave her an all-is-forgiven smile
and pointed to the big box. "Anyway, I had this sent here a
few weeks ago, so I came over to pick it up. I was just
looking through it."
Her curiosity won out over her annoyance. "What is it?"
He picked up one of the smaller boxes and opened it,
giving the contents a bigger smile than he ever gave her.
Inside were two plastic-wrapped lollipops. "It's my new
business, Executive Lollipops. They're the latest craze. I'm
going to make a fortune on this."
Another of his ill-considered business schemes. This idea
was the worst one yet. Quentin was intelligent, which
appealed to her, but he lacked common sense. Did he really
think he could get rich selling lollipops to adults? She
doubted that very much.
He continued his pitch, more excited than before. "I'm
going to take them to local shops and get everyone to sell
my lollipops. Look at this huge sucker!" He pulled out a
larger package and showed her an immense lollipop, as big