Nobody's Fool

downtown and see what it said on the First National Bank clock. They put that there, according to Sully’s father, specifically for people too dumb to hang on to their watches.
    As a boy Sully had hated his father’s intolerance of human error, especially since that intolerance was chiefly reserved for others. But the attitude took, and Sully, as an adult, had come to think of making do without things you’d broken as the price you paid for having your own way.
    â€œWhy not let them do the operation now?” Peter wanted to know.
    â€œListen,” Sully said, “don’t worry about it.” He’d wanted Peter to know about the injury, but he had little desire to go into details or offer explanations. In the year since he’d Men, the knee had become arthritic, which according to the insurance company physicians was the reason the pain was getting worse. It was their contention that Sully had fucked up by not letting them operate when they wanted to. This was Wirf’s paraphrase of their position, actually.
    â€œThe swelling’s mostly fluid,” Sully told him. “I should probably get it drained again. Except it’s expensive and hurts like hell and it doesn’t feel that much better when they’re done.”
    Slowly, they made their way back to the car. Andy, Sully noticed, had been returned to his car seat. Will had stopped crying and was now studying his grandfather fearfully through the side window. Wacker was examining Dr. Seuss with what looked to Sully like newfound respect for the written word. Charlotte, who had not gotten out, was staring straight ahead, massaging her temples.
    â€œI haven’t done something to offend your wife, have I?” it occurred to Sully to ask. He often did offend women without meaning to or even knowing how he’d managed. Maybe she didn’t want someone as filthy ashe was in her car. Maybe he’d been wrong before. Perhaps it was Peter who’d insisted on pulling over, Charlotte who hadn’t wanted to.
    But Peter shook his head. “It’s me, not you,” he admitted.
    Sully waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t, said, “I’m sorry to hear it.”
    â€œShe’s got cause, I guess.”
    Sully studied his son, who was in turn studying his family as if they belonged to somebody else. His remark had been delivered in an offhanded way, but Sully thought for a second that he recognized it as a confidence of sorts. If so, it was a first, and before Sully could decide whether or not he liked the idea of being confided in, Peter followed the first confidence with another.
    â€œI don’t suppose Mom told you I was turned down for tenure.”
    This pretty much decided the issue of confidences. Sully already knew he was no happier for this knowledge. “No,” Sully said. “I wasn’t kidding. I haven’t seen your mother, even to say hello to.”
    â€œThis happened last spring, actually,” Peter said. “They give you a year to find something else.”
    Sully nodded. “Any luck?”
    â€œYup,” Peter said. “All bad.”
    â€œI’m sorry to hear it, son,” Sully told him, which was true, though not much to offer.
    Peter had still not looked at him, was still studying his family, wedged so tightly into the battered Gremlin. “Sometimes I think you did the smart thing. Just run away.”
    The usual bitterness was there, of course, but Peter’s observation seemed more melancholy than angry, and the only thing to do was to let it go, so Sully did. “I only made it about five blocks, if you recall.”
    Peter nodded. “You might as well have gone to California.”
    â€œYou trying to get me to say I’m sorry?” Sully said.
    â€œNope,” Peter said. “Not unless you are.”
    Sully nodded. “Say hello to your mother for me. And thanks for the lift.”
    Peter studied his shoes. He looked suddenly ashamed, something Sully hadn’t intended. “Why don’t you stop by tomorrow?”
    Sully grinned at him. “You better clear the invitation with your mother.”
    â€œI don’t have to ask permission to invite my own father to stop by on Thanksgiving,” he said.
    Sully didn’t contradict him. “She’s changed, then.”
    â€œWill you be okay here?”
    Sully said he would. There was a pay phone outside the IGA, and Sully promised