Dick tossed the letter in the trash. “This is a relief! Now I can ask better people!” he bellowed.
“Like who?” She felt a wave of regret as soon as she said this. “Never mind. You have time to find the perfect person.”
He turned back to his work. “There are a lot of people.”
“Yes. Many will want to be associated.”
He bent over his keyboard. She lingered.
“Dick?”
His shoulders stiffened. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle?”
“I have something else.”
“Save it for tonight.”
“It can’t wait.” Before he could object again, she said, “Robert’s been arrested.”
He spun around again. “What makes you think that?”
“I saw it. I saw him in the police car.”
“It’s a mistake, of course. You mistook someone else for Robert. You don’t see very well anymore.”
“No, it was Robert. I was as close to him as I am to you now. I spoke to him.” Polly wanted to get past this skeptical portion of the program quickly. The fastest way was coolness on her end. Though his disbelief stung. And she saw well enough to run his world.
“You spoke to him?”
“Yes.”
“Did he see you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I don’t believe it!”
“Neither do I!”
They stared at each other. They both believed it. She took a seat on the sofa.
“Maybe he’s a witness to something.”
“He was handcuffed.”
Now Dick looked to the side, bewildered, as if he had lost the thread. His TIA had occurred on Memorial Day weekend. They’d been told that he’d probably have more and not to worry about it, they were no more than “a brain fart”—the doctor had actually said that. They’d slow him down and perhaps be depressing. “Farts are the opposite of depressing!” Dick had joked afterward. He wanted to put it behind him.
“Speak more clearly!” he shouted now.
She raised her voice a notch. “We were talking about Robert. Agnes is calling the town to see what’s going on.”
“Oh yes, yes.” He pressed his temples. “Yes, you said that.”
“Coffee?” she offered.
“Mmm.”
Was he having another TIA?
“I’m sure Agnes will straighten everything out.”
“Yes, yes.” He rubbed at his forehead, and her heart pinched.
If she thought staying by him would help, she would, but he did better collecting himself when he was alone. On the way to the kitchen she slowed by a table and smelled a bouquet picked from the garden. She scooped the beans from an old red pottery bowl and poured them into the funnel of an appliance the DILs—daughters-in-law—had given her the summer before. They thought her ill-equipped and gave her items out of the Williams-Sonoma catalog, supposedly to liberate her but really so they could cook at Meadowlea as they did at home. Polly didn’t want things like giant mixers on her kitchen counters, so the appliances stayed—the DILs said “lived”—in the closet or the basement until they were due to arrive. Then Polly brought the flotsam of gadgets out and arranged them to look appreciated. The coffeemaker, however, was miraculous. Such good coffee. But Robert! She wondered if she shouldn’t have done something more right way. Gone straight to the town hall and reasoned with the powers there. And freed the dog—somehow. Was she a coward? She’d never felt like one—she’d advocated for her boys as heartily as was polite. But she retained a horror of getting in trouble.
“Here you go.” She placed the cup on Dick’s desk.
“Thank you.” He looked up. “I’m hungry,” he said.
“Oh! I should have made lunch. I’ll do it right now.”
She hovered.
“What?”
On the one hand she’d have liked to leave it at that. On the other… She swayed from foot to foot. “I saw another awful sight on my way home.”
He moved his eyebrows to show curiosity, so she told him the story of the dog, omitting, of course, the bit where she trespassed and gave away their good hamburger, emphasizing instead the misery of the animal. He shook his head at her description, just as she hoped he would.
“It’s being treated unjustly.” She chose the adverb carefully, for the best chance of a concerned response.
He frowned.
“I know you wouldn’t want it here, but…”
He clucked his tongue rhythmically, ticking off seconds of thought. These days a small problem got the same treatment as a major inquiry. She sensed his mind turning over, like the tumblers in a combination lock clicking and falling, until the safe in his head swung open.
“Isn’t there an animal shelter just above the Cape?”
“You’re right! You’ll call today?”
He brightened. You’re right were his favorite words. “I’ll call right now.”
“I’ll go make lunch.”
“What are we having?”
“Grilled cheese?”
“Would you just put mine on the desk, and I’ll eat a seule? Though tell me when you hear from Agnes.”
“Of course.” She walked briskly back to the kitchen, buoyed both by the thought of the dog being rescued and by having brought Dick a focus. She had trouble holding the heavy cast-iron pan—her old wrists had weakened—but she got it on the stove and dropped a wad of butter on the bottom. It melted in tentacles, and with a spatula she raked the butter to an even coating. She set the sandwiches in the pan. Cookies, too, would be a good touch for a mid-afternoon snack. She pulled out her old green bowl and a wooden spoon. She didn’t need the DILs’ fancy mixer to concoct what Dick liked.
The phone rang.
“Goddamn Seela!” Agnes bellowed. “She accused him of stealing!”
“No!”
“It’s insane. I want to wring her neck. Come back over as soon as you can.”
“Just after I feed him.”
“You eat too. I can’t have you fainting during our walk.”
So they’d be taking a walk. That was welcome. She took the food in. “It’s Seela. She’s accused him of theft.”
“No. I don’t believe it.”
“Of course you don’t believe it. He didn’t do it. It’s Robert!”
“I know that!” Restlessly he shifted around in his seat. “I meant I don’t believe Seela! What happened?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t think Nessie knows. I’m going over there now—after we eat. What did the shelter say?”
She saw a look flash across his face that she couldn’t quite interpret. He seemed to have new looks since the TIA. “I know it pales in comparison,” she said, “but not for the dog.”
“It’s fine,” he said.
“You told them where?”
“Yes. What you said.” He rubbed his forehead. “Yes, I spoke to them.”
He looked tired. “Dick, eat your lunch. Then have a nap. I’ll find out what Nessie knows.”
“I should call someone. I’m known around here.”