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this afternoon." She took the bag and went to the desk and muttered something to the secretary, who left. A few moments later she returned with an Igloo ice chest. "Results should be ready in two days," she said, stuffing the bag inside. |
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Terry stood still, watching her pack the bag in the cooler. |
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Burdick's voice was audible, so it was probably intended for the lobby rather than Terry. Nonetheless it took her by surprise. "Any other problems?" |
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Yeah, my stomach is a hot fist and the front of my brain is about to explode; the backyard is suffering horticultural dysfunction; my husband no longer gets it up for me; the cat's acting weird; one goldfish is missing, the other is the piscatorial equivalent of Jeffrey Dahmer; and my son might be on drugs. Outside of that, things are just ducky, Helen. |
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"Is there anyone I can talk to about lawn chemicals?" Terry explained about the flowers and the dogwood. |
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"Our tree man is out. But I'd say it's the last year's drought. Wiped out lots of dogwoods. The flowersI'd guess it's all the rain we've had. Most of the energy goes into the leaves instead of the blooms." |
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"My concern is that something might have gotten into the ground water, it's been running milky and sometimes smells." |
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"That's odd, we've gotten no other complaints. Then again, you have one of the few private wells in town." |
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Ironically, having their own well was a feature that particularly delighted Terry, presumably there was no fear of contamination from others. |
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"Of course, you can get that tested, too. But I doubt it's fertilizers unless you put it down a foot thick." |
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The cancer map flicked on in Terry's head. |
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"Might be the heavy rain," she continued. "Causes wells to back up." |
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Terry nodded and started to go. "One of the benefits of conversion, I suppose." |
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"When we convert to Quabbin." |
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The woman stared at her blankly. |
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