Anything Is Possible(38)

Pete felt excited; her excitement made its way right to him.

Lucy said, “He lives right outside of Chicago, in kind of a ritzy neighborhood. He’s been running an air-conditioning outfit for years. I said, ‘Is your wife here?,’ and he said, No, she was sorry she couldn’t make it, but she had some auxiliary meeting or something.”

“I bet she just didn’t want to come,” Pete said.

“Exactly.” Lucy nodded vehemently. “You’re so right, Petie, how did you know that? It was just sort of obvious to me, I mean, it seemed like he was lying, and I don’t think Abel could ever really tell a lie.”

“He married a snob.” Pete sat back. “That’s what Mommy said years ago.”

“Mom told me that too, way back when I was in the hospital and she came to visit me.” Lucy tugged her black jacket closed. “She said that Abel had married the boss’s daughter, that she was a hoity-toity. He was dressed very well, you know, an expensive suit.”

“How could you tell it was expensive?” Pete asked.

“Well, right.” Lucy nodded meaningfully. “Petie, it has taken me years to figure out what clothes are expensive, but— Well, you can just tell after a while, I mean, the suit fit him perfectly and was made from nice cloth. But he was so glad to see me, Petie, oh, you would have died.”

“How’s Dottie?” Pete leaned his elbows onto his knees, and glancing around briefly he realized that there were no pictures on the walls. He seldom sat in the chair he was sitting in now, and so he must never have noticed. He always sat where Lucy was sitting, facing the door. The walls just hung there, plain and off-white.

“He says Dottie’s good. She owns a bed-and-breakfast outside of Peoria, in Jennisberg. No kids. But Abel has three kids. And two little grandchildren. He seemed very” —Lucy slapped her knee lightly—“very happy about those grandchildren.”

“Oh, Lucy. That’s nice.”

“It was nice. It was just wonderful.” Lucy ran her fingers through her hair, which partly—toward the front—went to her chin and was a pale brown. “Oh, and guess who I saw in Houston? I was signing books, and this woman—I really wouldn’t have recognized her—but it was Carol Darr.”

“Oh, right.” Pete sat back; the bare walls seemed to be darker in the corners. “Yeah, the Darr girl. She moved away. She lives in Houston?”

“Carol was in my class, Petie, and she was so mean, oh, that girl was so mean to me.”

“Lucy, everyone was mean to us.”

For some reason this made them look at each other, and they briefly—almost—laughed.

“Yeah,” said Lucy. “Oh, well.”

“Was she mean to you in Houston?”

“No. That’s what I was going to tell you. She actually seemed shy when she introduced herself. Shy! And so I said, Oh, Carol, how nice to see you. And she waited for me to sign her book—what could I sign for her? So I just wrote ‘Best wishes,’ and then I gave her the book, and she leaned down toward me and said quietly, ‘I’m really proud of you, Lucy.’ And I said, ‘Oh, thank you, Carol.’ I don’t know, Petie, I think she’s grown up and probably feels a little bad. I’m just saying that’s the impression I got.”

“Was she married?” Pete asked.

Lucy held up a finger. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “No man was with her, but maybe she had one at home.” Lucy looked over at her brother. “Don’t know.” She gave a little shrug. Then she patted the lumpy couch next to her and said, “Petie, tell me everything, please tell me how you are! Here I am, just two minutes inside the house, blab-blab-blabbing about myself.”

“That’s okay. I like hearing it.” And he did. Oh, he was happy.

“Petie, why don’t you get a dog? You always liked animals.” Lucy looked around, as though really looking for the first time. “Have you ever had a dog?”

“No. I’ve thought about it, but when I go to work it would be alone all day and that makes me too sad.”

“Get two dogs,” Lucy said. “Get three.” Then Lucy said, “Pete, tell me more what you mentioned on the phone. You work at a soup kitchen? Tell me more about that.”

“Yeah, okay,” Pete said. “You remember Tommy Guptill?”

Lucy sat up straight, putting her feet on the floor; her socks were two different colors, Pete noticed, one brown and one blue. She said, “The janitor at school. What a nice man he was.”

Pete nodded. “Well, we’re kind of friends now, and I go with him and his wife once a week and work at the soup kitchen in Carlisle.”

Lucy shook her head appreciatively. “That’s a wonderful thing for you to do. Petie, that just makes me really proud of you.”

“Why?” He really couldn’t think why.

“Because not everyone can work in a soup kitchen, and it just makes me proud that you do. How long has there been a soup kitchen in Carlisle?” Lucy plucked something from the leg of her jeans and flicked it into the air.

“A few years now. I don’t know. But I’ve been going for a couple months,” Pete said.

“Is Tommy well? He must be old.” Lucy looked over at Pete.