you know. A lot of friends, but … I guess we were her family.”
“I think that would be a good idea, when you’re up to it,” Lee said.
They thanked Santiago and expressed their condolences again, leaving him a business card in case he remembered anything else. He followed them outside like a puppy, as if they were the last link to Ana and he was sorry to see them go. The last image Lee had in the rearview mirror was Santiago standing in front of the Black Bass, shielding his eyes from the sun with an upraised arm, looking after their car as it drove away.
C HAPTER F OURTEEN
Butts’s stomach couldn’t take any more fasting, so Lee drove to Dilly’s Corner, a hamburger and ice cream stand along the River Road where it met Coldspring Road. It had been a favorite of his and Laura’s when they were children, and was open all year round. It was very popular with tourists in the summer season, but also served as an after-school hangout for the local kids. As a boy Lee always thought it was cool being able to buy ice cream on a little country road in the middle of nowhere—the stand was several miles away from the nearest town.
As they sat at the wooden picnic table eating cheeseburgers and fries, Butts said, “You know, this place ain’t half bad—this is actually a decent cheeseburger.”
Butts happily stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth, picked up his chocolate milkshake, put the straw to his lips, and sucked deeply on it, his eyes half closed with pleasure. Lee shuddered and looked away. He had never understood chocolate milkshakes with cheeseburgers—it struck him as excessive and rather revolting. He glanced at his watch. It was half past three—they would be driving back to the city during rush hour. At least they would be going against the traffic, though that didn’t always work out, as the middle lanes on both the Holland and Lincoln Tunnels would be switched over for the outbound commuters.
“Well,” he said, tossing his sandwich wrapper into the metal trash can, “shall we pay Dr. Perkins a house call?”
Butts gave his milkshake a final mighty slurp and wiped his mouth with a satisfied flourish. “Now
that
was worth waitin’ for!” he declared, and shuffled behind Lee to the car. As they arrived at the green Saturn, Lee caught a movement out of the side of his eye, over in the woods next to Dilly’s Corner. Probably a deer, he thought—they were in abundance this time of year. In fact, they were hazardous to motorists, especially after dark—it was easy to hit one as it leapt out of the woods into the glare of headlights. He had a number of friends at school who had totaled their parents’ cars that way.
“Whatchya lookin’ at?” said Butts, noticing Lee peering into the thick green canopy of leaves.
“I saw something—probably just a deer,” Lee said, climbing into the car.
“You sure?” Butts remarked sarcastically as he climbed into the Saturn. “You sure it wasn’t an alien or something?”
“Very funny. We should remember to tell Dr. Perkins about it.”
“Yeah. Maybe we’ll get abducted if we’re lucky.” Butts stretched his seat belt across his body and patted his bulging belly. “Jeez, I shouldn’t ‘a had that second order of fries.” He sighed. “I just know the wife is gonna put me on a diet this month—I can see it in her eyes. She’s got that look, you know? Ah well, I might as well live it up while I can. It’s broccoli and black beans from now on.”
Lee smiled and started up the engine. Dr. Martin Perkins had an office in downtown Stockton—not that there was much of a downtown to speak of. It consisted of little more than a liquor store, a grocery store called Errico’s Market, a gas station, and a couple of restaurants. One of the restaurants was the historic Stockton Inn, which contained the wishing well made famous in the Rodgers and Hart song “There’s a Small Hotel.” Lee’s mother never tired of pointing this out to
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