Nobody's Fool by Richard Russo Page A

Carl Roebuck. Instead of storming out from behind the desk and taking a swing at Sully, as Sully half hoped he would, Carl returned to his swivel chair, sat down and put his own soft-loafered feet up. “Sully,” he said finally. “You’re right. I’m not going to pay you, but you’re right. I
am
lucky. Most of the time I remember, but sometimes I forget. Anyway, since we’re friends, I’ll give you a tip. When you leave, stop outside there on the landing for about five minutes before you go down. That’ll save you having to walk back up here when it occurs to you.”
    â€œWhen what occurs to me?”
    Carl Roebuck wagged an index finger maddeningly. “If I told you, it would ruin the surprise, schmucko.”
    Ruby was also grinning at Sully when he left, which probably meant that whatever the surprise was, she’d already figured it out. Outside on the landing, where he’d been told to wait, where the cold air of reality tunneled up from the street, Sully still couldn’t think what the surprise was, but he stood there buttoning his coat and pondering his visible breath in the hallway. Things had gone pretty much the way Sully had envisioned. Naturally, they’d argue over the money Carl refused to pay, and naturally he’d tell Carl where to get off and storm out of his office. Then later Carl would come looking for him at The Horse and offer some shitty job as a peace offering, which Sully would tell him he could stuff, and then Carl would offer him something else, probably just as shitty, but Sully would accept this offer because at least he’d gotten some satisfaction out of telling Carl off, not once but twice. By the end of the week he and Rub would be back on the Tip Top payroll.
    Except that Carl had thrown him a curve by offering him work right away, which meant that Sully was not only storming out on Carl but the work he’d really come for. On the other hand, Carl hadn’t crowed. That was what Sully had dreaded most, Carl smiling smugly and saying, I told you you’d be back. Sully knew from experience that “I told you so” were the four most satisfying words in the English language. He couldn’t remember ever passing up the opportunity to say them, and he had to admit it was pretty decent of Carl not to gloat. And he was definitely right about the stairs.
    Carl Roebuck was swiveling and grinning when Sully came back in.
    â€œI’ll take the money up front,” Sully said. “Since I’m working for a man who can’t be trusted.”
    â€œHalf now, half when I’ve inspected the job,” Carl insisted, their standard arrangement. “Since I’m employing Don Sullivan.”
    Sully took the money, counted it while Carl explained the job. As he listened, it occurred to Sully that he was relieved, glad to be back working for a man he wanted to kill half the time, glad he wasn’t driving every day to the community college where he didn’t belong, glad to be taking the judge’s advice about not blaming people for the way things were, glad not to be placing his trust in lawyers and courts. He’d been afraid that a job working for Carl might be one of the real things that had disappeared while he was taking philosophy.
    â€œI should let one of my regular guys do this,” Carl was saying. “But I know you need the money, and besides, we’re friends, right?”
    â€œYou’re lucky I need the money, friend,” Sully said.
    â€œYou always need the money,” Carl pointed out. “Which is why I always have you by the balls.”
    That smile again. How could you hate the man?
    â€œDoes this mean you’re through with higher education?” Carl wondered as Sully prepared to leave.
    Sully said he supposed it did.
    â€œI wonder who won the pool,” Carl said absently.
    â€œRuby,” Sully said, without looking at Carl’s secretary on his way