Richard Russo: That Old CapeMagic

When he hung up, his mother said, There, was that so difficult?

Yeah , he told her, it was .

He expected a smart-assed retort but it didn’t come, and when it didn’t he became aware of an unfamiliar but extremely pleasurable feeling. How to describe it? Plumb. He was feeling plumb. Okay, maybe not completely, but no more than a half bubble off. Plumb some. As good as could be expected. He wondered if plumb might be another word for happy.

I think maybe I’m going to be okay, Mom , he ventured. Still no response. I guess what I’m saying is it’s okay for you to be dead now. Both of you. In fact , he added, afraid he’d given them too much leeway, I insist .

The boy was kicking impotently at the brightly colored shards of taillight glass when Griffin returned. He’d somehow written down all the necessary information, and his name was Tony Loveli. He was sixteen. “My father’s on his way,” he said. “He’s going to kill me. I just got my license last week.”

“Don’t worry, Tony,” Griffin said. “We’ll tell him it was my fault.”

The kid shook his head morosely. “You don’t understand. That’s not going to matter. He’s a divorce attorney. A complete and total fucking asshole.”

“Not complete,” Griffin said, though of course he’d never met the man, who might well be an asshole. “Not total.”

A fat gull circling overhead screeched a loud objection. Griffin watched it warily, but it was just a stupid bird, and after a moment, no harm done, it flew away.

Okay, I admit it. I had help. Many thanks to my agents, Nat Sobel, Judith Weber and Joel Gotler; to my editors, Gary Fisketjon and Alison Samuel; to Emily Milder, Gabrielle Brooks, Meghan Wilson, Russell Perreault, Kate Runde, Victoria Gerken and all the other good folks at Knopf/Vintage who sell my books; to my daughters, Emily and Kate, whose weddings inspired all manner of imagined catastrophe; to my wife, Barbara, who knows enough about marriage to write her own book but read mine several times without complaint. Thanks also to The Silver Lounge on Cape Cod for the use of their sign. And, finally, my gratitude to my mother, whose recent passing caused me to reflect more deeply on inheritance and all that the word implies. Not to mention love.

Richard Russo lives in Camden, Maine with his wife and two daughters. He is the author (and co-screenwriter) of Nobody's Fool which was made into a major film starring Paul Newman. Film rights to his latest novel Empire Falls have also been bought.