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Authors: Mary Mcgarry Morris
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in the heart of town. But she couldn’t get past the cranky old man part, the grandfather who’d admitted he didn’t like kids.
“Well, anyway,” she said, wanting to turn the conversation back to herself and Max, “that thing with Henry, I mean, you were really brave, and me, I just froze. I couldn’t do anything.”
“Just wasn’t your time, that’s all,” he said as Boone began to bark.
“Hey!” Dolly was at the screen door again. “Hey, can you give me a hand?” Her car wouldn’t start. She’d called her girlfriend for a ride, but she wasn’t answering her phone.
“How ’bout I take a look?”
“Yeah. Jesus, that’d be great. Stupid car. I been late so many times now, it’s not funny.” She followed Max outside, then went into her apartment. Nellie stood on the side of the driveway while he tried to start her car. But Dolly was right. It was dead. Boone watched from inside the truck, frozen in chastisement, though alert to Max’s everymove. When Max climbed back in, Boone sat so close the two dark profiles appeared to be one as Max inched the truck nearer Dolly’s car. He got out and popped the car’s hood then attached jumper cables from his battery to hers. That done, he sat in her little car, one long leg stretched through the open door. He turned the ignition. Nothing. He kept getting out, adjusting clamps, going back, sliding half onto the seat—still wouldn’t start. He turned off the truck, then asked Nellie for a cloth and some rubbing alcohol, so she ran inside.
She hurried back with a bottle and rag. Dolly came out then and Boone’s head rose through the window in a whiny howl.
“Quiet!” Max snarled and the gleaming black dog froze. Nellie stuck her hand in and stroked Boone’s warm silky ear. Poor animal. He hadn’t done anything wrong. All he’d wanted was a little attention. Some kind of connection. And Nellie knew that feeling well, the dull ache of the ignored. There was Dolly chattering away at Max, who would have picked up her car and carried her to work in it if she wanted, while Boone and Nellie looked on.
Dolly waited with her arms folded while Max leaned over her engine cleaning the leads on her battery with the alcohol soaked rag. She was telling him how the club was just temporary, for now. Her agent in New York really wanted her to come back. She was still thinking it over. The thing is, she’d needed a break.
“You’re going along fine, and all of a sudden it’s like, whoa—I don’t want to do this anymore. You know what I mean? People’re going, ‘Don’t quit! C’mon! I got this great gig for you.’ So you leave what you’re doing and after all the rehearsals with hardly any pay, you end up in this show and it only goes for six days. Crazy!” she sighed. “Just crazy, the whole thing. But that’s what happens.”
With the uplift in her voice, Max turned. He covered his mouth, smiling so hard his eyes were all crinkled up.
“Sounds pretty exciting, though,” he said behind his hand.
“Being paid woulda been even more.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He chuckled.
“Hey!” Dolly grabbed his wrist.
“What the—” Max growled, recoiling as if he’d just been stung. He seemed startled, as much by her touch, as by his anger.
She twisted his hand to see his watch. “Jesus!” she squealed, her hand still on his. “I didn’t know it was this late!”
A coldness had overtaken him, and for some reason, Nellie thought of Patrick Dellastrando’s ignoring her on the street yesterday when she made a point of saying a loud and pointed hello to him and his girlfriend.
“Get behind the wheel,” Max told Dolly. He walked quickly back to his truck and started it. He gestured over the wheel for her to turn the key. When she did, her engine sputtered to life. She backed out of the driveway onto the street.
“No!” Max yelled out his window, waving for her to stop. “Let it run a minute!”
But she was on her way, then gone.
Chapter 5
J
“Well, anyway,” she said, wanting to turn the conversation back to herself and Max, “that thing with Henry, I mean, you were really brave, and me, I just froze. I couldn’t do anything.”
“Just wasn’t your time, that’s all,” he said as Boone began to bark.
“Hey!” Dolly was at the screen door again. “Hey, can you give me a hand?” Her car wouldn’t start. She’d called her girlfriend for a ride, but she wasn’t answering her phone.
“How ’bout I take a look?”
“Yeah. Jesus, that’d be great. Stupid car. I been late so many times now, it’s not funny.” She followed Max outside, then went into her apartment. Nellie stood on the side of the driveway while he tried to start her car. But Dolly was right. It was dead. Boone watched from inside the truck, frozen in chastisement, though alert to Max’s everymove. When Max climbed back in, Boone sat so close the two dark profiles appeared to be one as Max inched the truck nearer Dolly’s car. He got out and popped the car’s hood then attached jumper cables from his battery to hers. That done, he sat in her little car, one long leg stretched through the open door. He turned the ignition. Nothing. He kept getting out, adjusting clamps, going back, sliding half onto the seat—still wouldn’t start. He turned off the truck, then asked Nellie for a cloth and some rubbing alcohol, so she ran inside.
She hurried back with a bottle and rag. Dolly came out then and Boone’s head rose through the window in a whiny howl.
“Quiet!” Max snarled and the gleaming black dog froze. Nellie stuck her hand in and stroked Boone’s warm silky ear. Poor animal. He hadn’t done anything wrong. All he’d wanted was a little attention. Some kind of connection. And Nellie knew that feeling well, the dull ache of the ignored. There was Dolly chattering away at Max, who would have picked up her car and carried her to work in it if she wanted, while Boone and Nellie looked on.
Dolly waited with her arms folded while Max leaned over her engine cleaning the leads on her battery with the alcohol soaked rag. She was telling him how the club was just temporary, for now. Her agent in New York really wanted her to come back. She was still thinking it over. The thing is, she’d needed a break.
“You’re going along fine, and all of a sudden it’s like, whoa—I don’t want to do this anymore. You know what I mean? People’re going, ‘Don’t quit! C’mon! I got this great gig for you.’ So you leave what you’re doing and after all the rehearsals with hardly any pay, you end up in this show and it only goes for six days. Crazy!” she sighed. “Just crazy, the whole thing. But that’s what happens.”
With the uplift in her voice, Max turned. He covered his mouth, smiling so hard his eyes were all crinkled up.
“Sounds pretty exciting, though,” he said behind his hand.
“Being paid woulda been even more.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He chuckled.
“Hey!” Dolly grabbed his wrist.
“What the—” Max growled, recoiling as if he’d just been stung. He seemed startled, as much by her touch, as by his anger.
She twisted his hand to see his watch. “Jesus!” she squealed, her hand still on his. “I didn’t know it was this late!”
A coldness had overtaken him, and for some reason, Nellie thought of Patrick Dellastrando’s ignoring her on the street yesterday when she made a point of saying a loud and pointed hello to him and his girlfriend.
“Get behind the wheel,” Max told Dolly. He walked quickly back to his truck and started it. He gestured over the wheel for her to turn the key. When she did, her engine sputtered to life. She backed out of the driveway onto the street.
“No!” Max yelled out his window, waving for her to stop. “Let it run a minute!”
But she was on her way, then gone.
Chapter 5
J
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