Needful Things - Stephen King [29]
"I guess," Norris said. He reached for his citation book with sadness and resignation writ large upon his face.
"Good man," Alan said with a heartiness he didn't feel. "I'll be in my office for awhile."
3
He closed the door and dialled Polly's number.
"Hello?" she asked, and he knew immediately that he would not tell her about the depression which had come over him with such smooth completeness. Polly had her own problems tonight.
It had taken only that single word to tell him how it was with her.
The 1-sounds in hello were lightly slurred. That only happened when she had taken a Percodan@r perhaps more than one-and she took a Percodan only when the pain was very bad. Although she had never come right out and said so, Alan had an idea she lived in terror of the day when the Percs would stop working.
"How are you, pretty lady?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and putting a hand over his eyes. The aspirin didn't seem to be doing much for his head. Maybe I should ask her for a Perc, he thought.
"I'm all right." He heard the careful way she was speaking, going from one word to the next like a woman using stepping-stones to cross a small stream. "How about you? You sound tired."
"Lawyers do that to me every time." He shelved the idea of going over to see her. She would say, Of course, Alan, and she would be glad to see him-almost as glad as he would be to see her-but it would put more strain on her than she needed this evening. "I think I'll go home and turn in early. Do you mind if I don't come by?"
"No, honey. It might be a little better if you didn't, actually."
"Is it bad tonight?"
"It's been worse," she said carefully.
"That's not what I asked."
"Not too bad, no."
Your own voice says you're a liar, my dear, he thought.
"Good. What's the deal on that ultrasonic therapy you told me about? Find anything out?"
"Well, it would be great if I could afford a month and a half in the Mayo Clinic-on spec-but I can't. And don't tell me you can, Alan, because I'm feeling a little too tired to call you a liar."
"I thought you said Boston Hospital-" "Next year," Polly said.
"They're going to run a clinic using ultrasound therapy next year.
Maybe."
There was a moment of silence and he was about to say goodbye when she spoke again. This time her tone was a little brighter. "I dropped by the new shop this morning. I had Nettle make a cake and took that.
Pure orneriness, of course-ladies don't take baked goods to openings.
It's practically graven in stone."
"What's it like? What does he sell?"
"A little bit of everything. If you put a gun to my head, I'd say it's a curios-and-collectibles shop, but it really defies description.
You'll have to see for yourself."
"Did you meet the owner "Mr. Leland Gaunt, from Akron, Ohio,"
Polly said, and now Alan could actually hear the hint of a smile in her voice. "He's going to be quite the heartthrob in Castle Rock's smart set this year-that's my prediction, anyway."
"What did you make of him?"
When she spoke again, the smile in her voice came through even more clearly. "Well, Alan, let me be honest-you're my darling, and I hope I'm yours, but-" "You are," he said. His headache was lifting a little. He doubted if it was Norris Ridgewick's aspirin working this small miracle.
"-but he made my heart go pitty-pat, too. And you should have seen Rosalie and Nettle when they came back "
"Nettle?" He took his feet off the desk and sat up. "Nettle's scared of her own shadow!"
"Yes. But since Rosalie persuaded her to go down with her-you know the poor old dear won't go anywhere alone-I asked Nettle what she thought of Mr. Gaunt after I got home this afternoon. Alan, her poor old muddy eyes just lit up. 'He's got carnival glass!' she said.
'Beautiful carnival glass! He even invited me to come back tomorrow and look at some more!' I think it's the most she's said to me all at once in about four years. So I said, 'Wasn't that kind of him, Nettle?' And she said, 'Yes, and do you know what?' I asked her what, of course, and Nettle said, 'And I just might go!' " Alan laughed