GRUMPY CLUCK turned out to be a great fan of calvados. After a few, he threw his arm across Albertine’s shoulders and said, “Jeez, honey, you know, this is a great place. I’ve never been so relaxed on a vacation in my adult life. You know what I’m saying?”
“That you have never been so relaxed on a vacation in your adult life?”
“You got it. That’s it. That’s exactly what I’m trying to say. Usually we go to Saint Barth’s, Saint Kitts, Saint Croix, Saint This, Saint That — the whole family, the whole frigging family, and the kids are happy, happy as clams — did I tell you my granddaughter calls me Grampy Clark but it comes out Grumpy Cluck?”
“No, but I heard it on the radio.”
“You what? Oh, I get it. You heard it on the radio. That’s funny. That is. That’s funny. What was I saying?”
“Everybody’s happy on Saint Barth’s.”
“Yeah. The kids and the grandkids, and my wife. They shop and they — whatever it is they do — vacation stuff. Me, I got nothing to do. I sit there on the beach, I try to read a book or something, all I do is worry about the shop. God, the time is heavy on my hands. I get on the cell phone, call the shop. Jeez, it’s one crisis after another back there, and I’m trying to solve them over the phone. It’s fucking frustrating. By the time I come home, I’m a god-damned wreck. I can’t wait to get back to work, except that I got to fix all the things that went wrong while I was away. But here, here it’s completely different. I haven’t thought about the shop for one minute, not one minute for an entire day and a half. I’m up there on the roof, trying to find those leaks, you know. I go along, see a suspicious spot, I rip up the old shingles, start patching it. That’s all I think about — your roof. And because that’s all I think about, I don’t have anything to worry about. I tell you, it’s — it’s paradise. It’s worry-free here. I’m grateful.” He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose. “I’m really grateful,” he said, “for that roof.”
[to be continued]
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