‘Car keys are on the kitchen table,’ Frank says. He holds out his hand again, so this is goodbye. That’s okay with Billy.
‘Shake her easy,’ Paulie says.
Less than sixty seconds later they’re gone, presumably back to the McMansion with the endlessly peeing cherub in the gigantic front yard.
2
Billy goes upstairs to the master bedroom and opens his suitcase on a double bed that looks freshly made. When he opens the closet to put things away, he sees it’s already loaded with shirts, a couple of sweaters, a hoodie, and two pairs of dress pants. There’s a new pair of running shoes on the floor. All the sizes look right. In the dresser he finds socks, underwear, T-shirts, Wrangler jeans. He fills up the one empty drawer with his own stuff. There’s not much. He thought he’d be buying more clothes at the Walmart he saw down the way, but it seems like that won’t be necessary.
He goes down to the kitchen. The Toyota keys are on the table beside an engraved card that says KENNETH HOFF and ENTREPRENEUR. Entrepreneur, Billy thinks. There’s a word for you. He turns the card over and sees a brief note in the same hand as on the envelope containing the housekeys: If you need anything, just call. There are two numbers, one for business and one for cell.
He opens the refrigerator and sees it’s stocked with staples: juice, milk, eggs, bacon, a few bags of deli meats and cheeses, a plastic carton of potato salad. There’s a rack of Poland Spring water, a rack of Coke, and a sixpack of Bud Light. He pulls out the freezer drawer and has to smile because what’s in there says so much about Ken Hoff. He’s single and until his divorce （Billy’s sure there was at least one）， he has been fed and watered by women, starting with a mother who probably called him Kenny and made sure he got his hair cut every two weeks. The freezer is stuffed with Stouffer’s entrees and frozen pizza and two boxes of ice cream novelties, the kind that come on a stick. There are no vegetables, fresh or frozen.
‘Don’t like him,’ Billy says aloud. He’s not smiling anymore.
No. And he doesn’t like what Hoff is doing in this. Aside from Hoff being too out front after the deal goes down, there’s something Nick’s not telling him. Maybe that doesn’t matter. Maybe it does. As Trump says at least once a day, Who knows?
3
There’s a hose in the basement, coiled up and dusty. That evening, as the heat of the day is starting to fade a little, Billy lugs it outside and hooks it up to the faucet bib on the side of the house. He’s standing on the front lawn, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, spraying the grass, when a man comes over from next door. He’s tall, his own tee blinding white against very black skin. He’s carrying two cans of beer.
‘Hi, neighbor,’ he says. ‘Brought you a cold one to welcome you to the neighborhood. Jamal Ackerman.’ He’s got both beers in one big hand and holds out the other.
Billy shakes. ‘David Lockridge. Dave. And thanks.’ He twists the hose shut. ‘Come on inside. Or we can sit out on the steps. I haven’t really got the place sorted out yet.’ No need of the dumb self here; in Midwood he can be a more regular self.
‘Porch steps’ll do fine,’ Jamal says.
They sit. They open the cans: fsst. Billy tips his to Jamal’s and says, ‘Thanks.’
They drink. They survey the lawn.
‘It’ll take more than water to bring that mess back,’ Jamal says. ‘I’ve got some Miracle-Gro, if you want to use some. They had a BOGO deal at the Wally World Garden Center last month and I have plenty.’
‘I might take you up on that. I’m planning a trip to Wally World myself. I might get a couple of chairs for the porch. But probably not until next week. You know how it is, new place and all.’
Jamal laughs. ‘Do I ever. This is the third house we’ve lived in since I got married in ’09. First one was her mom’s.’ He pretends to shiver. Billy smiles. ‘Got two kids, ten and eight. Boy and a girl. When they bug you, cause they will, holler them back home.’
‘If they don’t break the windows or light the place on fire, they won’t bug me.’
‘You buying or renting?’
‘Leasing. I’ll be here awhile, don’t know just how long. I’m … it’s a little embarrassing to come right out and say it, but I’m writing a book. Trying, anyway. Looks like there’s a chance I can get it published, might even be some real money in it, but I’ll have to buckle down. I’ve got an office in town. The Gerard Tower? At least I think I do. I’m going to look at it tomorrow.’