A Hole in the Universe - Mary McGarry Morris [15]
On Friday, Neil Dubbin emerged from his fetid bunker. He spent an hour in the cluttered office, signing checks with a trembling hand between phone calls to his wife. She kept hanging up on him. When he started to cry, she listened long enough for him to apologize and beg her to let him come home again. Mary Dubbin must have said no, Serena reported back, because after Neil hung up he disappeared into his windowless room.
With the store empty, the women stood by the ladder while Gordon razored scraps of brittle tape off the front windows. June kept an eye out for Eddie Chapman, who’d been called back this morning to one of his construction sites.
“Eddie’s an asshole, but he means well,” Serena said.
The Dubbin family had been deeply disappointed in their daughter Cynthia’s choice of a husband, but it was always Eddie in his steel-toed boots and with grimy fingernails who was sent in to hold the place together until Neil sobered up. June said the only reason the Market hadn’t been sold long ago was that the family needed a place to stash Neil.
Gordon leaned toward the glass. The women’s voices skirmished for his attention.
“She never comes in here,” Serena said of Neil’s wife.
“It’s the city. She doesn’t feel safe anymore,” June said in a mocking tone.
“But the truth is, she just doesn’t want to be around Neil.”
“Drunk or sober.”
“At least when he’s drunk she’s got some control.”
“Yeah. See, the thing is, when he’s sober, he can be such a bastard. Like mean. Like really, really mean.”
“Yeah, you never know. You gotta be careful,” Serena warned.
“But the thing is, poor Neil, it’s like the meaner he gets, the worse e gets down on himself for it,” June said.
“Yeah, he’s like one of those people, the only time they’re happy is when somebody else is miserable.”
“So the thing is to just ignore him. That’s what we do.”
“Most of the time, anyway. Oh, shit,” Serena groaned. “Hey, Eddie, you’re back!”
“Where the hell is he?” Eddie stormed down the aisle.
“Up here,” Gordon said. The ladder teetered as he hurried down. This was a project he had chosen for himself. “That old tape. I’ve been trying to get it off. I should’ve—”
“He said he was gonna work!” Eddie bellowed, looking around.
“He did.” Serena explained how upset Neil had been after talking to his wife.
“He called her?” Eddie backhanded the new stack of National Enquirer s, scattering them across the floor. Gordon began to pick them up. “I told him not to call her. Oh, Christ, I’m so sick of this. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I got a business to run. If he’s boozing again, that’s it!”
No, no. The women didn’t think so. Neil hadn’t left the store. Not once.
“Go look out back, then,” Eddie ordered Gordon. “Tell him I’m here for one minute and I gotta see him.”
Leo kept feeding chunks of beef into the grinder. He shook his head; he hadn’t seen Neil. Next, Gordon asked the stock boy, Thurman, who was smoking a cigarette outside on the loading platform. “No. But I seen you last night,” Thurman said, flicking the cigarette into the dirt. “You live near my aunt.”
“I do?” Gordon said uneasily.
“Yeah,” the boy said, rolling his dark eyes. Yesterday Eddie had cut the boy’s hours in half. With so many holdups in the neighborhood, they needed someone big up front. So Thurman was hauling garbage and rounding up shopping carts, a humiliating demotion in a job he hated. As long as he stayed in school and kept his job at the Market, his grandmother would let him live with her.
Gordon made his careful way through the messy back rooms. This morning he had dislodged a stack of fruit crates, sending oranges and grapefruit rolling in every direction. It was a shame. Old Mr. Dubbin had been so organized, he used to know where every bit of stock was in the store. Neil’s door was ajar. “Mr. Dubbin? Excuse me. Mr. Dubbin?” he called softly, then leaned into the dark, airless room. Water was running. He tapped on the bathroom door. Neil Dubbin emerged, patting