Part 33 (2/2)
”To you, yes. To me? No.” When the phone rang, Forney pointed 268 to it. ”That'll be Mr. Sprock again. Ready to round up a Saint Bernard and go rescue you.”
Novalee picked up the receiver, then stretched the cord across a chair so she could stay close to the fire.
”h.e.l.lo?”
”Novalee?” Lexie's voice sounded hushed. ”You got the TV on?”
”No. I just got home.”
”You haven't heard the news?”
”What news?”
”About Sam Walton?”
”Mr. Sam?”
”He's dead, Novalee. Sam Walton just died.”
Novalee was working returns when the announcement came on the intercom.
”Attention Wal-Mart customers and employees . . .
The woman leaning over the service counter smelled of horserad-ish and wore a fake fur coat that was b.u.t.toned crooked. She pulled a cotton sweater from a paper sack and shoved it across the counter to Novalee.
”I ain't never had it on 'cause it's too small.”
The sweater might have once been white, but it had grayed with age. Stains circled the underarms and the neck was stretched and misshapen.
”. . . because Sam Walton gained the respect of . . .
”It might fit a small-chested woman, but that ain't me.”
269.
Novalee turned the sweater inside out looking for a code tag, but it had been cut away.
”I'll just take the refund 'cause I got too many sweaters now. My boyfriend says I take up the whole d.a.m.ned closet 'cause I got so many clothes.”
”. . . for a moment of silence in memory of Mr. Sam.”
”I paid nineteen ninety-five, plus tax.”
Novalee bowed her head and closed her eyes.
”Listen, I got my kids in the car. I gotta take them by my sister's place and get to work by two.”
”. . . the valley of the shadow of death . . .” Novalee mouthed the words.
”Hey. Did you hear me? I'm in a hurry.”
”. . . goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight.
O N HER FIRST photography job Novalee got paid seventy dollars. Out of that, she spent twenty for film, five for gasoline, and she gave Benny Goodluck ten. If she'd added another three-fifty for their lunch at McDonald's, she'd have cleared just over thirty dollars. But that didn't matter. That didn't matter to her at all. N HER FIRST photography job Novalee got paid seventy dollars. Out of that, she spent twenty for film, five for gasoline, and she gave Benny Goodluck ten. If she'd added another three-fifty for their lunch at McDonald's, she'd have cleared just over thirty dollars. But that didn't matter. That didn't matter to her at all.
She got the job because of Benny, whose math teacher was looking for someone to take pictures at her wedding. Carolyn Biddle didn't have much money to spend and Novalee wasn't looking to make much, so they struck a fast bargain.
”I got it, Benny. I got the job,” Novalee said as soon as he answered the phone.
”That's great!”
”The wedding's on the twenty-fourth, which is perfect because I have that weekend off and the Whitecottons will keep Americus so she won't have to make the trip with me.”
271.
”What trip?”
”To Tahlequah. Miss Biddle's going to get married at her mother's house in Tahlequah.”
”Are you going by yourself?”
”Sure.”
”What if you have a flat or something?”
”Benny, I know how to change a flat.”
”Yeah, but I was just thinking that maybe . . .”
”If the weather's nice, they're going to get married outside. She's got everything planned. She even asked me to wear pink.”
”Why?”
”Because everything's going to be pink. The flowers, the cake, the dresses.”
”What if someone shows up in purple. Or yellow? What'll she do?”
”Benny, she's a teacher. If she says, 'wear pink,' you wear pink.”
”Yeah, that's right.”
”You know, I think I'll shoot with Vericolor. Pink can be tricky if you shoot in the sun.”
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