Chapter 37
BB here on a Midwest pit stop, asking…
Neal sat in the pink bedroom’s window seat and reached for something sexy, cutting and salty to say, something about country c**k and ridiculous mall fashion. He had to get a column back to New York. Staring out the window, he felt as if the things he had experienced the past several weeks and months had happened just an instant before—the cluttered, clawing whirl of his column, the revelation of Dewalt and of sobriety and the endless obsessive sexcapades—they were somehow only a few seconds old. Looking out past the delicate salmon-colored window shade at the blazing summer sun and the hissing metal lawn sprinklers, he felt he hadn’t ever really left this sad little boyhood window seat. He started the column over.
BB here, begging the
