Nobody's Fool

am I going to do when you go back to West Virginia?”
    Will blushed with pride and pleasure. “We’re staying here,” he told her. That, at least, was his understanding from the last adult conversation he’d half overheard.
    Cass raised her eyebrows questioningly at Sully.
    â€œNews to me,” Sully admitted. “People never talk to me, of course.”
    â€œPeople talk to you all the time,” Cass grinned. “You just never pay attention.”
    â€œThat so?”
    â€œWhere are you going to be the day after Christmas?”
    This had the feel of a trick question, so instead of announcing that he had no idea, he thought about it. Luckily, that did some good. “Helping you,” he remembered.
    â€œYou had to think about it, didn’t you?”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Sully said. “I thought I was allowed to.”
    Cass grew serious. “Come here,” she said, and when he took a suspicious step toward her, Cass planted a grateful kiss on his forehead. “Thanks,” she said, and they both glanced over at Hattie’s booth, though from where they were standing, only a puff of the old woman’s gray hair was visible from where she now sat behind the ancient cash register.
    â€œGod,” Cass said, glancing back at Sully. “You’re blushing. How old are you?”
    â€œWho’s blushing?”
    â€œYou are. Look at your grandfather,” Cass encouraged Will. “Tell him he’s blushing.”
    â€œYou are, Grandpa.”
    Sully
was
blushing, and he knew it. “Let’s you and me trade places tomorrow,” he suggested to Cass. “You stand in front of that hot grill for about four hours, and we’ll see if
you
blush.”
    â€œGo on and bet your triple,” Cass told him, then, to the boy, “Don’t let Grandpa make a gambler out of you.”
    â€œLet’s go,” Sully said, prodding his grandson into motion. “We’ve got just enough time. If we don’t get to the house by eleven, Uncle Rub’ll have kittens.”
    Will made a face.
    â€œDon’t worry,” Sully told him. “You’re not really related to Rub.”
    They stopped at Hattie’s booth on their way out. “How you doing, old woman?” Sully said loudly. “You feeling better, now you got your register?”
    Clearly, the old woman’s spirits were restored. “You sound like that darn Sully,” she grinned.
    â€œThat’s who I am,” Sully told her. “I’m the one who gave you the register. Can’t you remember anything?” Actually, it had been his idea. It had required Peter and Rub to lug it over to her booth.
    Hattie depressed one of the cash register’s heavy bronze keys, which clanged reassuringly, forcing a small card that read .80 to jump up into the rectangular window. There were already several others of varying amounts nesting there.
    â€œI don’t know if I can afford all that,” Sully told her. “Besides. I work here. You going to charge me to work here?”
    Hattie cackled joyfully, depressed two more keys, forced two more cards to jump into the window. “Pay!” she bellowed.
    â€œPay,” Sully repeated, glancing over his shoulder at Cass, whose expression as she watched all of this was the saddest imaginable. “Okay, here.”
    Sully handed the old woman a dollar, which she snatched.
    â€œYou see money fine, don’t you?” he said. “How come you don’t see anything else?”
    The old woman was fumbling with the register, trying to get the cash drawer to open.
    â€œThat doesn’t open anymore, remember?” Sully said. “What are we doing with all the money?”
    She handed the bill back to him. “Right,” Sully said. “We give the money to Cass. You ring it up, she takes the money.”
    This arrangement apparently satisfied the old woman, who’d been ringing wild amounts on the register all morning. The only problem was that unless she hit the total key by accident, the numbered cards she rang stacked up in the window, forming a thick clump. Sully punched the total key, which resulted in an even louder and more satisfying clanging. “Money!” she whispered.
    â€œI know it,” Sully said. “We’re all getting rich now. I’ll see you in the morning, old girl. Which way will we go?”
    â€œUp!”
    â€œOkay, up,”