Doctor Sleep (The Shining, #2)(139)

The library door banged open and a woman stepped into the sunlight. Great clouds of dark hair billowed around her head, yet her jauntily cocked tophat stayed on. It stayed on like magic.

“Oh, look,” she said. “It’s Dan Torrance, the man who stole a woman’s money while she was sleeping one off and then left her kid to be beaten to death.”

She smiled at Abra, revealing a single tooth. It looked as long and sharp as a bayonet.

“What will he do to you, little sweetie? What will he do to you?”


10

Lucy woke him promptly at three thirty, but shook her head when Dan moved to wake John. “Let him sleep a bit longer. And my husband is snoring on the couch.” She actually smiled. “It makes me think of the Garden of Gethsemane, you know. Jesus reproaching Peter, saying, ‘So you could not watch with me even one hour?’ Or something like that. But I have no reason to reproach David, I guess—he saw it, too. Come on. I’ve made scrambled eggs. You look like you could use some. You’re skinny as a rail.” She paused and added: “Brother.”

Dan wasn’t particularly hungry, but he followed her into the kitchen. “Saw what, too?”

“I was going through Momo’s papers—anything to keep my hands busy and pass the time—and I heard a clunk from the kitchen.”

She took his hand and led him to the counter between the stove and the fridge. There was a row of old-fashioned apothecary jars here, and the one containing sugar had been overturned. A message had been written in the spill.

I’m OK

Going back to sleep

Love U



In spite of how he felt, Dan thought of his blackboard and had to smile. It was so perfectly Abra.

“She must have woken up just enough to do that,” Lucy said.

“Don’t think so,” Dan said.

She looked at him from the stove, where she was dishing up scrambled eggs.

“You woke her up. She heard your worry.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Yes.”

“Sit down.” She paused. “Sit down, Dan. I guess I better get used to calling you that. Sit down and eat.”

Dan wasn’t hungry, but he needed the fuel. He did as she said.


11

She sat across from him, sipping a glass of juice from the last carafe Concetta Reynolds would ever have delivered from Dean & DeLuca. “Older man with booze issues, starstruck younger woman. That’s the picture I’m getting.”

“It’s the one I got, too.” Dan shoveled the eggs in steadily and methodically, not tasting them.

“Coffee, Mr. . . . Dan?”

“Please.”

She went past the spilled sugar to the Bunn. “He’s married, but his job takes him to a lot of faculty parties where there are a lot of pretty young gals. Not to mention a fair amount of blooming libido when the hour gets late and the music gets loud.”

“Sounds about right,” Dan said. “Maybe my mom used to go along to those parties, but then there was a kid to take care of at home and no money for babysitters.” She passed him a cup of coffee. He sipped it black before she could ask what he took in it. “Thanks. Anyway, they had a thing. Probably at one of the local motels. It sure wasn’t in the back of his car—we had a VW Bug. Even a couple of horny acrobats couldn’t have managed that.”

“Blackout screwing,” John said, coming into the room. His hair was standing up in sleep-quills at the back of his head. “That’s what the oldtimers call it. Are there any more of those eggs?”

“Plenty,” Lucy said. “Abra left a message on the counter.”

“Really?” John went to look at it. “That was her?”

“Yes. I’d know her printing anywhere.”

“Holy shit, this could put Verizon out of business.”

She didn’t smile. “Sit down and eat, John. You’ve got ten minutes, then I’m going to wake up Sleeping Beauty in there on the couch.” She sat down. “Go on, Dan.”

“I don’t know if she thought my dad would leave my mom for her or not, and I doubt if you’ll find the answer to that one in her trunk. Unless maybe she left a diary. All I know—based on what Dave said and what Concetta told me later—is that she hung around for awhile. Maybe hoping, maybe just partying, maybe both. But by the time she found out she was pregnant, she must have given up. For all I know, we might have been in Colorado by then.”

“Do you suppose your mother ever found out?”

“I don’t know, but she must have wondered how faithful he was, especially on the nights when he came in late and shitfaced. I’m sure she knew that drunks don’t limit their bad behavior to betting the ponies or tucking five-spots into the cleavages of the waitresses down at the Twist and Shout.”

She put a hand on his arm. “Are you all right? You look exhausted.”

“I’m okay. But you’re not the only one who’s trying to process all this.”

“She died in a car accident,” Lucy said. She had turned from Dan and was looking fixedly at the bulletin board on the fridge. In the middle was a photograph of Concetta and Abra, who looked about four, walking hand in hand through a field of daisies. “The man with her was a lot older. And drunk. They were going fast. Momo didn’t want to tell me, but around the time I turned eighteen, I got curious and nagged her into giving me at least some of the details. When I asked if my mother was drunk, too, Chetta said she didn’t know. She said the police have no reason to test passengers who are killed in fatal accidents, only the driver.” She sighed. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll leave the family stories for another day. Tell me what’s happened to my daughter.”