said, looking out the window at their lawn. It was a modest lawn, by Thalia standards. Karla watered it lovingly every day in the summertime and it produced a modest covering of Bermuda grass and a splendid crop of grass burs.
“We don’t,” Karla said. “But we will in our next house.”
CHAPTER 14
A FTER HER TOUR BY HELICOPTER, KARLA RAPIDLY lost interest in Los Dolores.
“It’s too spread out,” she said. “Minerva could never keep it clean even if she tried, and she probably wouldn’t even try.”
The next year they bought a small ranch on the rolling plain northwest of town. The ranch had several low bluffs on it. Karla replaced Randy Royt with an articulate young architect from Fort Worth who soon designed them the house they had just moved into.
Duane reminded his wife several times that she had rejected Los Dolores on the grounds that it was too spread out for Minerva to clean. The new house—stucco over brick—was much larger than Los Dolores, weighing in at twelve thousand square feet.
“I thought you wanted adobe,” Duane said. “It’s all you’ve talked about for years.”
“I don’t want that writer to think I’m copying him,” Karla said.
“He’s never heard of you,” Duane said. “Why would he care what kind of house you build?”
“Arthur says Italian style looks better anyway,” Karla said. Arthur was her young architect.
“I think we ought to build two houses,” Duane said. “One for us and one for the children and grandkids. We could put the one for the children and grandkids several miles away.”
“Duane, you should have read that article I showed you that said kids really want discipline,” Karla said. “If you’d ever disciplined them they wouldn’t be like this.”
“If you believe our kids really want discipline, you’ll believe anything,” Duane said. “I still think two houses is a great idea.”
But he soon gave up on that idea, or any idea having to do with the house. Karla would listen to no one but Arthur, her new love slave. The result was a house covering most of the top of the bluff it was built on. It had several wings, each one meant for a different child. The children ignored their spacious wings and spent most of their time clustered in the den off the kitchen, screaming at one another.
“Go scream in your own rooms,” Duane screamed at them from time to time. “The reason we built this house was so we’d each have our rooms to scream in.”
“When I scream in my room I get scared,” Julie said. “It’s so big I hear echoes.”
“I hate this house,” Jack said. “You shouldn’t have built it so far from town. We can’t get any kids to come and play with us.”
“That’s not because of the house, it’s because of the way you play,” Duane said.
Only the week previous they had lured a little playmate out, tied him hand and foot and thrown him off the diving board.
“We just wanted to see if he could do magic,” Jack said. “We were pretending he was Houdini. Besides, we know lifesaving.”
“Why didn’t you use it, then?” Duane asked. “Minerva had to jump in with all her clothes on and pull him out.”
“He’s not a very nice kid,” Jack said. “He talks back and stuff.”
“Your mother talks back to me but I don’t try and drown her,” Duane said.
“Anyway, Arthur’s a wimp,” Julie said. “He always wears those dumb bow ties.”
That night Duane was unable to resist passing along Julie’s judgment.
“Your youngest daughter thinks your new boyfriend’s a wimp,” he said. “She don’t like his bow ties.”
Karla had just returned from a little shopping trip to Fort Worth. She wore a T-shirt that said, PEOPLE WHO THINK MONEY CAN’T BUY HAPPINESS DON’T KNOW WHERE TO SHOP . Her eyes were dancing again.
“Go tie a knot in your dick, Duane,” she replied cheerfully. Her hands were full of shopping bags.
“Don’t you think we oughta build a guesthouse while we’re at it?” she
“We don’t,” Karla said. “But we will in our next house.”
CHAPTER 14
A FTER HER TOUR BY HELICOPTER, KARLA RAPIDLY lost interest in Los Dolores.
“It’s too spread out,” she said. “Minerva could never keep it clean even if she tried, and she probably wouldn’t even try.”
The next year they bought a small ranch on the rolling plain northwest of town. The ranch had several low bluffs on it. Karla replaced Randy Royt with an articulate young architect from Fort Worth who soon designed them the house they had just moved into.
Duane reminded his wife several times that she had rejected Los Dolores on the grounds that it was too spread out for Minerva to clean. The new house—stucco over brick—was much larger than Los Dolores, weighing in at twelve thousand square feet.
“I thought you wanted adobe,” Duane said. “It’s all you’ve talked about for years.”
“I don’t want that writer to think I’m copying him,” Karla said.
“He’s never heard of you,” Duane said. “Why would he care what kind of house you build?”
“Arthur says Italian style looks better anyway,” Karla said. Arthur was her young architect.
“I think we ought to build two houses,” Duane said. “One for us and one for the children and grandkids. We could put the one for the children and grandkids several miles away.”
“Duane, you should have read that article I showed you that said kids really want discipline,” Karla said. “If you’d ever disciplined them they wouldn’t be like this.”
“If you believe our kids really want discipline, you’ll believe anything,” Duane said. “I still think two houses is a great idea.”
But he soon gave up on that idea, or any idea having to do with the house. Karla would listen to no one but Arthur, her new love slave. The result was a house covering most of the top of the bluff it was built on. It had several wings, each one meant for a different child. The children ignored their spacious wings and spent most of their time clustered in the den off the kitchen, screaming at one another.
“Go scream in your own rooms,” Duane screamed at them from time to time. “The reason we built this house was so we’d each have our rooms to scream in.”
“When I scream in my room I get scared,” Julie said. “It’s so big I hear echoes.”
“I hate this house,” Jack said. “You shouldn’t have built it so far from town. We can’t get any kids to come and play with us.”
“That’s not because of the house, it’s because of the way you play,” Duane said.
Only the week previous they had lured a little playmate out, tied him hand and foot and thrown him off the diving board.
“We just wanted to see if he could do magic,” Jack said. “We were pretending he was Houdini. Besides, we know lifesaving.”
“Why didn’t you use it, then?” Duane asked. “Minerva had to jump in with all her clothes on and pull him out.”
“He’s not a very nice kid,” Jack said. “He talks back and stuff.”
“Your mother talks back to me but I don’t try and drown her,” Duane said.
“Anyway, Arthur’s a wimp,” Julie said. “He always wears those dumb bow ties.”
That night Duane was unable to resist passing along Julie’s judgment.
“Your youngest daughter thinks your new boyfriend’s a wimp,” he said. “She don’t like his bow ties.”
Karla had just returned from a little shopping trip to Fort Worth. She wore a T-shirt that said, PEOPLE WHO THINK MONEY CAN’T BUY HAPPINESS DON’T KNOW WHERE TO SHOP . Her eyes were dancing again.
“Go tie a knot in your dick, Duane,” she replied cheerfully. Her hands were full of shopping bags.
“Don’t you think we oughta build a guesthouse while we’re at it?” she
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