Diana knew there was no way she could lift the heavy
luggage over the tailgaite, into the back of the truck. ‘I
wonder if you could possibly give me a hand?’ she asked.
Ernest opened his door, but stopped with one booted
foot on the ground. ‘You thinking of giving me something
for my trouble?’ he asked. ‘Like five bucks, maybe?’
She’d intended to give him twenty dollars for the ride,
but she was no longer feeling quite charitable. ‘Fine.’
Ernest swung down from the truck and proceeded to toss
five thousand dollars; worth of Louis Vuitton luggage on
top of dirty oil drums, Diana’s voice burst out in
desperate cry. ‘Could you handle that a little more
carefully? Those suitcases are very expensive.’
‘What, this thing?’ he said with disdainful expression
as he held the suitcase at arm’s length as if it were
weightless. ‘Can’t see why. Looks to me like it aint
nothing bu canvas with plastic coating on it –‘
Knowing it would be futile to try to debate this point
with a man who willingly drove such a filthy vehicle,
Diana chose not to comment. Unfortunately, Ernest
misconstrued her speechlessness as sudden recognition of
truth, which drove him to press his point. ‘Nasty-looking’
color combination – brown with kinda greenish tan letters
all over it saying ‘LV’.’ That said, he tossed the case
onto the oil cans, then slid behind the steering wheel and
waited, watching Diana clear a stack of road maps, fishing
tackle, and a can of WD-40 off her seat. ‘LV,’ he pointed
out, ‘aren’t even a word.’
Since he seemed unwilling to put the truck into gear
until she said something, Diana reluctantly replied, ‘They
are initials.’
‘Secondhand stuff, huh?’ he concluded sagely as the
truck’s gears cranked and they headed down the short
gravel driveway toward the highway. ‘You know how I
figured that out?’
Diana’s mood went from mild irritation to mirth. ‘No,
how did you guess?’
‘Cause your initials ain’t LV. Right?’
‘Right.’
‘Who’d that ugly stuff belong to before it got foisted
off on you?’
‘Louis Vuitton,’ Diana said straight-faced.
‘No kidding?’
‘No kidding.’
He slammed the brake pedal to the floor along with the
pedal beside it and shifted gears at the stop sign. ‘He’s
a boyfriend of yours?’
Perhaps it was the exhilarating effect of the mountain
and Cole’s nearness, but Diana suddenly felt in complete
charity with everything. ‘No, he’s not.’
‘Sure glad to hear it.’
She turned her head and gazed in fascination at
Ernest’s profile. He had skin the color and texture of
dried leather, brown eyes, hollow cheeks and a toothpick
haning ou the side of his mouth. ‘Really, why are you
glad?’
‘Cause there ain’t no red-blooded American male alive
who’d be caught dead carrying suitcases with his initials
pasted all over them and that’s a fact.’
Diana tried to remember the details about the men she’d
seen in the Louis Vuitton store making purchases for
themselves. After a moment she stifled a smile and nodded.
‘You’re right.’
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