from his pocket, sorted among them. “Take eighty for you plums. B’tween fren’s. My sympat’ies. Sal! Bring the cart!” He turned and walked back into the store.
Susan asked, “Is he always so… businesslike?”
“I remember him more chatty. But I was small then and he was younger.”
“You don’t think it’s two dykes from Frisco that… stiffens him up?”
Karen laughed, but not like before. “I guess I wouldn’t rule it out.”
Sal rattled up with the cart. “Hey, Sal,” said Karen. “You were this high the last time I saw you.” Now bigger than his father, with some brawn on him, and livelier too.
“Hi Karen, who’s your friend? What happened to her?” Big lips in a grin somehow conspiratorial, his eyes drinking them both in greedily.
Susan said, “I was practicing cartwheels and injured my foot against the ceiling.”
He was giving them a goofy smile, just looking at them, not registering the joke. It crossed Susan’s mind he might be a little slow. Karen said, “Hey, Sal, you think we look funny or something? Are you memorizing us?”
“Huh? Hey, I’ll get your flats. Bad bad news about Jack, Karen. Really, really sorry.”
Thoughtful pulling out of the lot, Karen said, “I didn’t even know Sal. He was like six the last time I was here… . Hey, the Koffee Kupp’s still open! If their cheeseburgers haven’t changed, you’ll love ‘em.”
Susan did, in fact. Devoured two of them. Looked fondly, as she sipped her beer afterward, on Karen. “You’ve been so strong. You’re facing so much. We should do something just for fun.”
“We should go camping,” Karen said with a wry smile. “Just to be on a piece of ground that isn’t Jack Fox’s.”
“I say that’s a great idea. Sleeping-bag cuddles! I love camping.”
Karen laughed more freely. “Dear love, you don’t know jack shit about camping, but I think I could make us pretty comfortable. There’s some beautiful places down along the river.”
* * * *
The sun was just an hour from down when they got back. And found a bulky blue pickup— decades old, and not unmarked by ding and rust— parked behind Susan’s rented red rice-rocket. As they got out of their truck, a man stepped into view from the far side of the house. A wide guy in a faded gray flannel shirt, raising a hand in greeting, coming forward… . an older guy with a short, gray-shot beard, becoming wider as he neared, appearing very solid.
“I’m Kyle, Ms. Fox— we talked on the phone? I’m so sorry to drop in— I called but you were out. I had a bid to make out this way and I wanted to grab a look before Saturday.”
“It’s totally okay, Kyle,” shaking hands with him. “This is my friend Susan.”
“Hi, Susan. I’m sorry to intrude.”
“No problem.”
“I also wanted to mention, Ms. Fox, that I just hired a helper… . so I expect we can be out of your hair in well under two days.”
“Hey, whatever it takes, Kyle. Actually, we’ll be gone camping when you do it.”
“Oh.” Susan thought he sounded pleased with the arrangement. “Where should we leave your cords?”
“Just pile them at the edge of the yard back there,” said Karen. “I meant to ask you. How did you come to know my father?”
“I didn’t. He answered my ad in the papers. I just spoke to him on the phone that once. Please do accept my sympathy.” He had shaggy brows on a rawboned face with a lot of complex erosion around the orbits of his deep-set eyes. Somehow the word sympathy , coming out of this seen-it-all face, had an ironic ring to Susan. He offered his hand once more. Again she felt a callused palm and the gentlest of squeezes from an apparatus of hydraulic strength. “It was nice to meet you both.”
IX
They were making dinner— or Karen was, while Susan sampled a Bloody Mary spiced with Louisiana Hot Sauce. She was enjoying the revelation that she was, actually, a person who could hold a surprising amount of liquor and function
Susan asked, “Is he always so… businesslike?”
“I remember him more chatty. But I was small then and he was younger.”
“You don’t think it’s two dykes from Frisco that… stiffens him up?”
Karen laughed, but not like before. “I guess I wouldn’t rule it out.”
Sal rattled up with the cart. “Hey, Sal,” said Karen. “You were this high the last time I saw you.” Now bigger than his father, with some brawn on him, and livelier too.
“Hi Karen, who’s your friend? What happened to her?” Big lips in a grin somehow conspiratorial, his eyes drinking them both in greedily.
Susan said, “I was practicing cartwheels and injured my foot against the ceiling.”
He was giving them a goofy smile, just looking at them, not registering the joke. It crossed Susan’s mind he might be a little slow. Karen said, “Hey, Sal, you think we look funny or something? Are you memorizing us?”
“Huh? Hey, I’ll get your flats. Bad bad news about Jack, Karen. Really, really sorry.”
Thoughtful pulling out of the lot, Karen said, “I didn’t even know Sal. He was like six the last time I was here… . Hey, the Koffee Kupp’s still open! If their cheeseburgers haven’t changed, you’ll love ‘em.”
Susan did, in fact. Devoured two of them. Looked fondly, as she sipped her beer afterward, on Karen. “You’ve been so strong. You’re facing so much. We should do something just for fun.”
“We should go camping,” Karen said with a wry smile. “Just to be on a piece of ground that isn’t Jack Fox’s.”
“I say that’s a great idea. Sleeping-bag cuddles! I love camping.”
Karen laughed more freely. “Dear love, you don’t know jack shit about camping, but I think I could make us pretty comfortable. There’s some beautiful places down along the river.”
* * * *
The sun was just an hour from down when they got back. And found a bulky blue pickup— decades old, and not unmarked by ding and rust— parked behind Susan’s rented red rice-rocket. As they got out of their truck, a man stepped into view from the far side of the house. A wide guy in a faded gray flannel shirt, raising a hand in greeting, coming forward… . an older guy with a short, gray-shot beard, becoming wider as he neared, appearing very solid.
“I’m Kyle, Ms. Fox— we talked on the phone? I’m so sorry to drop in— I called but you were out. I had a bid to make out this way and I wanted to grab a look before Saturday.”
“It’s totally okay, Kyle,” shaking hands with him. “This is my friend Susan.”
“Hi, Susan. I’m sorry to intrude.”
“No problem.”
“I also wanted to mention, Ms. Fox, that I just hired a helper… . so I expect we can be out of your hair in well under two days.”
“Hey, whatever it takes, Kyle. Actually, we’ll be gone camping when you do it.”
“Oh.” Susan thought he sounded pleased with the arrangement. “Where should we leave your cords?”
“Just pile them at the edge of the yard back there,” said Karen. “I meant to ask you. How did you come to know my father?”
“I didn’t. He answered my ad in the papers. I just spoke to him on the phone that once. Please do accept my sympathy.” He had shaggy brows on a rawboned face with a lot of complex erosion around the orbits of his deep-set eyes. Somehow the word sympathy , coming out of this seen-it-all face, had an ironic ring to Susan. He offered his hand once more. Again she felt a callused palm and the gentlest of squeezes from an apparatus of hydraulic strength. “It was nice to meet you both.”
IX
They were making dinner— or Karen was, while Susan sampled a Bloody Mary spiced with Louisiana Hot Sauce. She was enjoying the revelation that she was, actually, a person who could hold a surprising amount of liquor and function
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