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Jesus Christ, Pop, let's go home. I got waylaid. Sorry. |
What on earth is happening to you? Why are you acting this way? |
It's my tooth! My fucking tooth! I can't even think anymore because of it. |
I heard you talking. You got fired this morning, didn't you? |
Look, that's temporary, believe me. There's so much shit gonna hit the fan the next few days, my getting fired by LaRiviere and Merritt won't matter a bit. |
Going somewhere, Margie? |
I'm just cleaning out some of this stuff that's built up. For the rummage sale. And some things for the cleaners. And the laundromat. |
Don't lie to me. You're leaving me, I can see that. |
Don't be silly. Hi, Jill. |
Are you okay, Wade? What was wrong? Why were you holding everyone up? |
Did you see that sonofabitch in the BMW? He could've killed somebody. |
Did you get his number? |
I know who it is. |
Good. Who? |
Mel Gordon. |
I still don't understand |
From Boston. Evan Twombley's sonin law he was driving. I know where they're headed. Up the lake, Agaway. The old man's out deer hunting with Jack Hewitt, so they probably got some big weekend party planned. |
Lillian! |
Where's Jill? |
Me and Jill, we just had a little spat. She felt kind of left out, I guess, from not knowing some of the new kids |
Where is she now? Is she in the truck with your friends? |
While you went off for a few beers with your friends? Is that Hettie Rodgers there, with whatzizname? |
Yeah. |
She's grown up some, hasn't she? |
Oh, Jesus, lay off, will you? It looks like you've won this fucking round already, so lay off a little, for Christ's sake. |
I don't want her to go, Lillian. |
Don't cause a scene. No one's trying to win any 'rounds'. Don't make it any worse. |
I'm not making it any worse. You are. Me and Jill could've worked this thing out. It's normal, it's even normal for me to get a little touchy about it. Believe it or not. How do you think this makes me look, treating her like some tragic victim or something? |
You ever come to your father's grave anymore? |
No, not anymore. It's too... it's too far. |
We should talk. |
We've done all our talking, Wade. |
It's just... |
Let the past be. I'm sorry about your mother. I liked her. You never know how much women like that suffer. It's like they live their lives with the sound turned off and then they're gone. |
Wait there. She'll be right out. Is there snow on the ground up in Lawford? |
Yeah, lots. |
See. Get your boots. |
Hi honey. |
No problem. Look, I... |
You make me sick. I can't believe you've sunk so low. |
Low as what? What have I done? It's bad to want to see your own daughter? |
You know what I'm talking about. For what you're doing to me and to the child you say you love so much. Love. You won't get away with it. |
We're looking for the funniest costume! And the scariest! And the most imaginative! And the best costume of all! |
Got here just in time. Go ahead. Jump in line. Maybe you'll win a prize. |
Tomorrow, Gordon. |
Watch this snow. It's coming down tonight. |
Told you the snow was coming down. Take the grader. |
Where's the plow? |
Jimmy took it. Jack's out hunting with Evan Twombley. |
His soninlaw damn near killed me. |
Huh? |
At the school crossing. In his BMW. Coulda hurt some kids. I'm gonna bust his ass. |
Don't go playing policeman. |
What am I a security guard? You hired me, you and your Selectman friends. |
You don't want the extra police pay? |
I'm not saying that. |
Get the grader. Go out 29 past Toby's. Don't let Lillian get to you. She didn't belong here. That's why she left. |
Fuck you. |
That's what I love about a small town. You know everybody. |
What's the hurry? |
A hunting accident. Jack and Twombley. |
Huh? |
I figured you already heard. |
Twombley, Jesus. We got to get moving: I got to get up there. How would I know? C'mon, you drive. We'll take my truck. |
Fuck. Turn it off. All you heard was there was some kinda accident? |
Twombley's shot. I heard that. Not Jack. He's okay, I assume. |
Fuck. You don't know how bad or anything? |
You mean Twombley? |
Yes, Wade, I mean Twombley. Put out that cigarette. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. |
He more than likely just shot himself in the foot or something. That's what usually happens. |
I shoulda sent you instead of Jack. |
I wish you had. I'd rather be deer hunting instead of freezing my ass on that fucking grader. |
You ain't the hunter Jack is. And he can't drive the grader worth shit. |
Like hell. |
That must've been Twombley. Jesus. I bet that was Twombley. |
You want me to follow them to Littleton? |
Let's get to the top and talk to Jack first. He'll know what happened. He fucking better. If this coulda been avoided, I'll put that kid's ass in a sling. |
What the fuck. My day's already ruined. Give me the keys. You can go back with Jack. You still got a shitload of plowing to do. |
It ain't done, if that's what you mean. |
Something bugging you? |
Yeah. A few things. |
Well, right now we're not too interested. Finish up what you gotta do, then you can get bugged on your own time. |
How you holding up, Wade? |
I'm fine, fine. |
You Rolfe? I remember you from high school. You're a teacher now? Harvard? |
Sorry about the long lunch. My clutch is going out again. |
You ever think of getting a new car, Wade? |
On what you pay me? |
Elaine! Call Chub Meritt and have him pick up Wade's car, fix the clutch. |
What do I have to do for it? |
Nothing, Wade, I've been thinking. You don't get enough appreciation around here and it's time we changed things a little. |
I saw Mel Gordon in here this morning. |
So? |
He say anything about the summons I tried to give him? Sonofabitch wouldn't accept it. |
Wade, that wasn't smart. Going out right after the man's fatherinlaw shot himself. Let it go. Call it a favor to me. |
You? Why? |
Mel's doing some business with me. It's nice to do favors for people you do business with. He was in a hurry. No big deal. |
That was before Twombley was shot. Before he knew. |
What's the difference? Take my truck, take a rest stop worrying about Mel Gordon. Have you decided what to do with your old man's place he going to stay there? |
Want to buy? |
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