“Hah. You wish. I’m just especially brave.”
“Ah, I should have known.” She had Alice’s bowl of water in her hand and placed it before her on the sidewalk outside the diner while Louise went inside and got settled.
It was one of the high points of the morning for Jennifer when Louise and Alice arrived. The way the older woman expressed herself—a kind of harsh but kindly manner—was a kick. “You’re a little rough around the edges, aren’t you, Doris?” was one of the first things she’d said to her. And she always asked personal questions that Jennifer skittered around. Direct questions like “Where do you come from and who are your people?”
Jennifer admitted to coming from the Midwest, which was not entirely untrue. Her grandparents lived all their lives in Ohio, even though Jennifer had moved around a lot with her mother. And she said she didn’t have any people, unfortunately.
She got Louise’s tea right away. “Here you go,” she said. “What can we get you for breakfast this morning?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “I’m not hungry.”
“You will be by the time you start nibbling. Have to keep your strength up.”
“Widows tend to skip meals or eat over the sink. Did you know that, Doris? But not Rose, my next door neighbor. She’s in so much better shape at seventy, and she fixes a proper supper every night and eats it while seated at the table. But then Rose has never been married, and it makes a difference somehow.”
“Why is that?”
“I don’t know exactly. It’s the having been married that does a lot of us in. As if when the old boy goes, there goes the only excuse we have for fixing a good meal. But you didn’t see me eating over the sink before I was married.” She snorted. “Of course, I was married at seven.”
“Seven? A little young. Were you one of the Travelers?”
“The what?”
“Those gypsies who marry off their girls before they’re out of elementary school. The Travelers.”
“You have a very unique education, Doris. For a biker chick.”
Jennifer laughed. “I like the news magazine shows—like 60 Minutes. Now, how about some eggs and fruit?”
“Fine, then. You’ve been here about a month, haven’t you, Doris?”
“Just about. Want some whole wheat toast?”
“No butter. You must like Boulder City a little or you would’ve moved on. At least to better employment.”
“Come on, Dr. Barstow—I couldn’t ask for more than this!”
Jennifer loved the way Louise’s face brightened whenever she titled her. The first time she did so, Louise told her straight out that it felt rather good to be given that title. After all, she’d come up through the ranks of academia at a time when women were still being admitted with some reluctance.
“Buzz is lucky to have you. You should make him tell you so twice a day.”
“He is as free with praise as with pay,” she said.
Louise continually surprised her. She was so amazingly observant, for one thing. The first time a couple of Boulder City cops came in and Jennifer found her herself ducking their stares, Louise had said, “If you’re going to be so obvious, they’re going to know you don’t want to be recognized. Look ’em in the eye—that’ll fool ’em for sure.”
Taken aback, she had replied, “Are you saying they’re not all that sharp?”
Louise had shrugged. “We have very little for them to do here in Boulder City, Doris.”
Louise had taken to recommending books to Jennifer and every day she went to the library, reading them quickly. In just one month she’d gone through all of Jo-Ann Mapson, Alice Hoffman and Alexander McCall Smith. Louise had speckled some nonfiction in there, as well— Women and the American Experience, for starters. That took Jennifer more than one day to get through.
Jennifer took a dog biscuit outside to Alice, gave her some pets, then returned to the diner to wash her hands. She then delivered the fruit and toast to Louise.
“Doris, I see you’re letting that hair grow in a little. I wondered what color it was. It’s darker than I imagined.”
“It’s darker than I remembered,” Jennifer laughed. “I doubt I’ll let it get any longer than an inch, tops.”
“I just can’t imagine what you were thinking. Egad.”
“I thought it would be quite a statement. Bold. Different.”
Louise lifted her eyebrows questioningly. “Is that a fact?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Well, unfortunately it made you look more like a thug. But this is better, this little bit of hair.” She reached a gnarled hand out and patted Jennifer’s head. “I have to tell you that when you smile, you are transformed. And your smile doesn’t really fit with this look—with the piercings and army clothes. But, I’ve never been very good at fashion.” Then Louise abruptly changed the subject. “Is it too late to make it a vegetable omelet? Egg substitute?”
“Not at all. I told you you’d find your appetite once you got started. I’ll have it right up,” she said, taking the order slip to Adolfo. And then, per her routine, she went back to Louise’s table. “I finished The Seasons Of Women. Do you have another suggestion? I’ll be taking it back to the library this afternoon.”
“Hmm. Have you read Gift from the Sea?”
“No, I don’t think so. I’ve always enjoyed reading, but I’ve never been able to do so much. There isn’t much else to do here.”
“We’re a dull lot,” she said.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it to sound that way. There’s no TV where I’m staying and I thought it would be tough, but I like it. It’s a nice change.”
“Change from what?” Louise ventured.
“Someday I’ll tell you all about it, but right now I have to do my chores.” She smiled and got away without telling anything. Again.
Jennifer brought Louise more hot water, then went back outside to check on Alice. She liked to linger there, stroke the old girl’s head and back. Alice would moan appreciatively, thanking her. Satisfied that there was plenty of water and that it was cool enough in the shade of the diner’s awning, she went back inside. As she stood and turned, she caught Louise watching her. Staring at her with a slight frown wrinkling her brow. “I just wanted to be sure Alice was fine. And that she has enough water in the bowl.”
“You like Alice, don’t you?”
“What’s not to like? She’s a perfect dog. And I think that besides you, I’m her favorite.” She grinned again.
“I’ve always had dogs. Sometimes more than one. It was difficult when I traveled more, but I love animals. And it’s my opinion that people who don’t like dogs are coldhearted and impatient. I think that within you beats the heart of a loving woman. Am I right?”
“I hope so, Madam Professor.”
“Do you know I’ve spent my whole life studying women and their issues? I hold a post-graduate degree in women’s studies and there is no woman on earth I don’t find interesting. And you, Doris, are one of the most intriguing.”
“Me? Phooey. If you knew me better, you’d realize I’m very boring. Let me get that omelet for you.”
Jennifer went about the business of refilling