'Yes, I do.' Alva or someone like Alva; not really Joe's friends, because to the best of her knowledge Gary was the only real friend Joe had, but men who would do a favor for a favor in return at some future time.
Brett's expression cleared magically. Once again the grownup had produced the right answer, like a rabbit from a hat. Instead of cheering her, it turned her momentarily glum. What was she going to tell him if she called Alva and he said he hadn't seen Joe since mud season? Well, she would cross that bridge if she came to it, but she continued to believe that Joe wouldn't have just left Cujo to shift for himself. It wasn't like him.
'Want to go and find your aunt now?'
'Sure. just lemme finish this.'
She watched, half amused and half appalled, as he gobbled the rest of the Danish in three great bites and chased it with the rest of the milk. Then he pushed his chair back.
Charity paid the check and they went out to the down escalator.
'Jeez, this sure is a big store,' Brett said wonderingly. 'It's a big city, isn't it, Mom?'
'New York makes this look like Castle Rock,' she said. 'And don't say jeez, Brett, it's the same as swearing.'
'Okay.' He held the moving railing, looking around. To the right of them was a maze of twittering chirruping parakeets. To the left was the housewares department, with chrome glittering everywhere and a dishwasher that had a front made entirely of glass so you could check out its sudsing action. He looked up at his mother as they got off the escalator. 'You two grew up together, huh?'
'Hope to tell you,' Charity said, smiling.
'She's real nice,' Brett said.
'Well, I'm glad you think so. I was always partial to her myself.'
'How did she get so rich?'
Charity stopped. 'Is that what you think Holly and jim are? Rich?'
'That house they live in didn't come cheap,' he said, and again she could see his father peeking around the corners of his unformed face, Joe Camber with his shapeless green hat tipped far back on his head, his eyes, too wise, shifted off to one side. 'And that jukebox. That was dear, too. She's got a whole wallet of those credit cards and all we've got is the Texaco -'
She rounded on him. 'You think it's smart to go peeking into people's wallets when they've just bought you a nice lunch?'
His face looked hurt and surprised, then it closed up and became smooth. That was a Joe Camber trick too. 'I just noticed. Would have been hard not to, the way she was showing them off -'
'She was not showing them off!' Charity said, shocked. She stopped again. They had reached the edge of the drapery department.
'Yeah, she was,' Brett said. 'lf they'd been an accordion, she would have been playing "Lady of Spain.-
She was suddenly furious with him ~ partly because she suspected he might be right.
'She wanted you to see all of them,' Brett said. 'That's what I think.'
'I'm not particularly interested in what you think on the subject, Brett Camber.' Her face felt hot. Her hands itched to strike him. A few moments ago, in the cafeteria, she had been loving him ... just as important, she had felt Iike his friend. Where had those good feelings gone?
'I just wondered how she got so much dough.'
'That's sort of a crude word to use for it, don't you think?'
He shrugged, openly antagonistic now, provoking her purposely, she suspected. It went back to his perception of what had happened at lunch, but it went further back than that. He was contrasting his own way of life and his father's way of fife with another one. Had she thought he would automatically embrace the way that her sister and her husband lived, just because Charity wanted him to embrace it - a life-style that she herself had been denied, either by bad luck, her own stupidity, or both? Had he no right to criticize ...
or analyze?
Yes, she acknowledged that he did, but she hadn't expected that his observation would be so unsettlingly (if intuitively) sophisticated, so accurate, or so depressingly negative.
'I suppose it was Jim who made the money,' she said. 'You know what he does -'
'Yeah, he's a pencil-pusher.'
But this time she refused to be drawn.
'If you want to see it that way. Holly married him when he was in college at the University of Maine in Portland, studying pre-law.
While he was in law school in Denver, she worked a lot of crummy jobs to see that he got through. It's often done that way. Wives work so their husbands can go to school and learn some special skill. . . .'
She was searching for Holly with her eyes, and finally thought she saw the top of her younger sister's head several aisles to the left.
'Anyway, when Jim finally got out of school, he and Holly came back east and he went to work in Bridgeport with a big firm of lawyers. He didn't make much money then. They lived in a third-floor apartment with no air conditioning in the summer and not
much heat in the winter. But he's worked his way up. and now he's what's called a junior partner. And I suppose he does make a lot of money, by our standards.'
'Maybe she shows her credit cards around because sometimes she still feels poor inside,' Brett said.
She was struck by the almost eerie perceptiveness of that, as well.
She ruffled his hair gently, no longer angry at him. 'You did say you liked her.'
'Yeah, I do. There she is, right over there.'
'I see her.'
