Needful Things

He kissed her, gently at first, then with more force. His hands slid down from the small of her back to the swell of her bu**ocks.

The fabric of her old jeans was as smooth and soft as moleskin under his hands.

"Down, big fella," she said at last. "Food now, snuggle later."

"Is that an invitation?" If her hands really weren't better, he thought, she would fudge.

But she said, "Gilt-edged, and Alan sat down satisfied.

Provisionally.

5

"Is Al coming home for the weekend?" Polly asked as they cleared away the supper things. Alan's surviving son attended Milton Academy, south of Boston.

"Huh-uh," Alan said, scraping plates.

Polly said, a little too casually: "I just thought, with no classes Monday because of Columbus Day-"

"He's going to Dorf's place on Cape Cod," Alan said. "Dorf is Carl Dorfman, his roomie. Al called last Tuesday and asked if he could go down for the three-day weekend.

I said okay, fine."

She touched him on the arm and he turned to look at her. "How much of this is my fault, Alan?"

"How much of what's your fault?" he asked, honestly surprised.

"You know what I'm talking about; you're a good father, and you're not stupid. How many times has Al been home since school started again?"

Suddenly Alan understood what she was driving at, and he grinned at her, relieved. "Only once," he said, "and that was because he needed to talk to jimmy Catlin, his old computer-hacking buddy from junior high. Some of his choicest programs wouldn't run on the new Commodore 64 I got him for his birthday."

"You see? That's my point, Alan. He sees me as trying to step into his mother's place too soon, and-"

"Oh, jeer," Alan said. "How long have you been brooding over the idea that Al sees you as the Wicked Stepmother?"

Her brows drew together in a frown. "I hope you'll pardon me if I don't find the idea as funny as you apparently do."

He took her gently by the upper arms and kissed the corner of her mouth. "I don't find it funny at all. There are times-I was just thinking about this-when I feel a little strange, being with you. It seems too soon. It isn't, but sometimes it seems that way. Do you know what I mean?"

She nodded. Her frown smoothed out a little but did not disappear. "Of course I do. Characters in movies and TV shows always get to spend a little more time pining dramatically, don't they?"

"You put your finger on it. In the movies you get a lot of pining and precious little grief. Because grief is too real. Grief is..." He let go of her arms, slowly picked up a dish and began to wipe it dry. "Grief is brutal"

"Yes."

"So sometimes I feel a little guilty, yeah." He was sourly amused by the defensiveness he heard lurking in his voice. "Partly because it seems too early, even though it isn't, and partly because it seems I got off too easy, even though I didn't. This idea that I owe more grief is still there part of the time, I can't deny that, but to my credit I know that it's nuts because part of me-a lot of me, in factis still grieving."

"You must be human," she said softly. "How weirdly exotic and excitingly perverse."

"Yeah, I guess so. As for Al, he's dealing with this in his own way. It's a good way, too-good enough for me to be proud of him.

He still misses his mother, but if he's still grievin@and I guess I'm not completely sure he is-then it's Todd he's grieving for. But your idea that he's staying away because he doesn't approve of you... or us... that's way off the beam."

"I'm glad it is. You don't know how much you've relieved my mind.

But it still seems..."

"Not quite right, somehow?"

She nodded.

"I know what you mean. But kids' behavior, even when it's as normal as ninety-eight-point-six, never seems quite right to adults.

We forget how easy they heal, sometimes, and we almost always forget how fast they change. Al is pulling away. From me, from his old buddies like jimmy Catlin, from The Rock itself. Pulling away, that's all. Like a rocket when the third-stage booster kicks in. Kids always do it, and I guess it's always kind of a sad surprise to their parents."

"It seems early, though," Polly said quietly. "Seventeen seems early to pull away."

"It is early," Alan said. He spoke in a tone which was not quite angry. "He lost his mother and his brother in a stupid accident. His life blew apart, my life blew apart, and we got together the way I guess fathers and sons almost always do in those situations to see if we could find most of the pieces again. We managed pretty well, I think, but I'd be blind not to know that things have changed. My life is here, Polly, in The Rock. His isn't, not anymore. I thought maybe it was going to be again, but the look that came into his eyes when I suggested that he might like to transfer to Castle Rock High this fall set me right on that in a hurry. He doesn't like to come back here because there are too many memories. I think that might change... in time... and for now I'm not going to push him. But it has nothing to do with you and me. Okay?"

"Okay. Alan?"

"Hmmm?"

Stephen King's books