A Hole in the Universe - Mary McGarry Morris [106]
“Does he play golf much?” Gordon asked as he rolled up his sleeves. When the late-afternoon sun poured through the plate glass, the balky air-conditioning had little effect.
“He’s not playing golf,” Serena scoffed, putting on her red sunglasses. “He’s in a bar somewhere. I can tell. I can always tell. Like his voice, the way it was so shaky, and when I said how he should just hire a new kid for the summer he couldn’t even look me in the eye, he was so out of it.”
“I think he’s under a lot of pressure right now,” Gordon said. Yesterday the produce wholesaler had called to say there would be no more deliveries until the bill was paid.
“Oh yeah? Well, welcome to the club, then, but you don’t see me taking off at noon. Like tonight—when I get home I got eight people waiting for me. Eight mouths I gotta feed and clean up after.”
“I’ll help close. That way you can leave sooner.”
“Oh, Jesus, not again!” Serena groaned as Cootie limped through the door carrying his rheumy-eyed dog.
“Neil here?” The old man winced with every step of his right foot. “He back yet?”
“No! I already told you, he’s gone for the day. He’s not coming back,” Serena said, fanning herself against the stench.
“But he said to come, that he’d be here. This bum foot, it’s hard, I can’t keep coming back like this.”
Gordon tried to hold his breath, but the smell was overpowering. The old man must have soiled himself days ago. There was no way Neil wanted him here.
“He’ll be here in the morning,” Gordon said.
“No! No, he told me, he gave me the time. I wrote it down. Here,” he said, spilling the dog onto the counter so he could look in his pockets. The dog licked Gordon’s wrist, then wiggled toward Serena, wagging a dry clump of feces with its tail.
“Pick him up! Get him offa there!” she cried. “He’s filthy!”
“It’s in here somewhere.” Cootie was emptying his pockets onto the counter. “Neil wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget.” He opened various wads of paper, unable to find the right one. “He said two-thirty. Yeah, I know he did. One thing I never forget is time, tell me a time and I never forget. Okay, okay, here, here we go, I got it.” He shook out the scrap, reading at arm’s length. “Two-thirty! I told you!” He showed Gordon. “See?”
“Yes, but right now it’s five forty-five,” Gordon told him. “This says two-thirty A.M.”
“It does? Well, what day is it, then?” Cootie asked.
“Thursday,” Gordon said.
The old man looked about to cry. “Where’d Wednesday go? What the hell happened? Are you sure?”
“Yes, positive.”
“I fucked up,” the old man cried. “I missed it!”
“That’s it,” Serena declared. She locked her register and hurried toward the office. “You won’t leave, so I’m calling the cops.”
“No, no, no, no—we’re going, we’re going. See, here we go, c’mon now, little doggie, c’mon, we gotta figure out what we’re gonna do,” he muttered, scooping up the dog and limping toward the door.
After he was gone, Gordon picked up the paper the old man had dropped. “Halefield Dairy” was printed at the top. There was a Halefield Dairy pad in Neil’s office, but why would he want the old man here at that time?
At six, it got busy again, with the steady run of suppertime shoppers lasting until seven. “God, my feet are killing me.” Serena sat on a milk crate, wincing as she rubbed one instep, then the other.
“Go home,” he said. “Go ahead, I can finish.”
“You sure?” She got up quickly and put on her shoes. “Thanks again,” she said as he unlocked the front door for her. “I really appreciate this. And don’t forget, we’re three carts short,” she called on her way out.
He watched until she turned the corner,