Nobody's Fool

said.
    â€œNot
as
happy, probably,” Carl said. He took a swig from the bottle Sully hadn’t touched, then set it back down. He laughed suddenly and let his head loll back so he could look at the ceiling and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck me,” he said. He sounded absolutely exhausted.
    â€œExactly which of your doctor’s instructions are you following these days,” Sully inquired.
    â€œAll of them,” Carl said to the ceiling. “Every one.”
    â€œHe advised you to drink and smoke and screw your brains loose?”
    â€œExcept those,” Carl grinned drunkenly. “Those were unreasonable requests. He wouldn’t have made them in the first place had he known me.”
    â€œIf he knew you, he wouldn’t have resuscitated you. Where’s Toby?”
    â€œToby who?”
    Sully let the question hang.
    â€œAround someplace. She wouldn’t want to join us for men’s night.” Carl Roebuck studied him drunkenly. “God, I hope I don’t end up like you.”
    Sully nodded. “I hope you don’t either,” he said agreeably.
    Carl shook his head. “Sixty years old and still getting schoolboy crushes. By the time I’m your age, I hope to be smart.”
    â€œWell, it can’t hurt to hope,” Sully said. “You’re off to a slow start, though, if getting smart is your goal.”
    Carl ran his hands through his hair. “That’s my wife’s position,” he admitted. “She’s displeased with me at the moment, even though I took your advice this morning and went home. Problem was, I got laid twice on the way. Then I made the mistake of telling her about it and asking her forgiveness. I think I may have ruined her Thanksgiving.”
    â€œYou can sleep on the couch again if you want,” Sully said. He got up, stubbed his cigarette out in the sink, washed the ashes down the drain.
    â€œThat’s the worst couch in Bath,” Carl said. “I had nightmares on that couch.” He took out his wallet, extracted a wad of bills and tossed them in front of Sully. “Buy yourself a new fucking couch. You can’t expect houseguests to sleep on a couch that gives them nightmares.”
    Sully fanned the notes with his pinky. There looked to be roughly a thousand dollars. “I’ll come by tomorrow,” he said. “You can pay me then.”
    â€œTake it now,” Carl advised. “When my wife divorces me I won’t be able to pay attention. This is your chance. Take whatever the fuck you think I owe you.”
    â€œDon’t worry,” Sully said. “I’ll get what you owe me. I’ll get it when you’re sober, too. That way you’ll be good and pissed off.”
    Carl shook his head. “You do nigger work for nigger wages, but you got a white man’s scruples. No wonder you don’t have a VCR.”
    â€œOr a snowblower.”
    Carl howled, his face turning beet red with delight. “I’ll tell you the God’s honest truth. The only fun I had all day today was stealing back my own fucking snowblower.”
    â€œWell,” Sully got up. “You go ahead and keep it till it snows again. Next time screw the railing back down, at least. My landlady falls, and she’ll own C. I. Roebuck.”
    â€œShe can have it,” he said. “If they don’t start on that fun park, Iwon’t be able to give it away.” Then he thought of something. “I didn’t tell that nosy fucker anything, by the way.”
    Sully stopped at the door. “Who?”
    â€œThat guy this morning.”
    â€œWhat guy, for Christ sake?”
    â€œThe guy who came into the office right after you left.”
    Sully remembered the man in the dark sedan who’d said he had an imperfect understanding of the situation. “Little guy?” Sully said. “All dressed up?”
    â€œThe very one.”
    â€œHe was parked down front,” Sully told him. “I threw a snowball at him. He seemed unhappy I noticed he was there. I figured some angry husband hired him.”
    â€œHe wanted to know if you worked for me. I told him no. Which reminds me. I might have something for you and your dwarf tomorrow,” he said. “Stop by the office.”
    â€œOkay,” Sully agreed. “Why don’t you go to bed?”
    â€œBecause I’m not tired.”
    â€œYou’re exhausted. You should see