We give her José’s name, and she clucks her tongue. “Oh dear. Hopefully, you two lovebirds can get out there and turn those frowns upside down.”
“They’ve been arguing?” Nora asks, clearly interested.
I am not, although I suppose it’s good news for her objective if they’re already bickering.
Manic-smile woman mimes zipping her lips. “Oh dear, I put my foot in it, didn’t I? But I’m sure seeing you two will do wonders for them.” Her gaze dips to our linked arms, and her grin broadens. “Come on back. They’re outside on the patio.”
I suppress a groan. It’s incredibly hot, not exactly patio weather.
We follow her out the back door and onto the patio, which is at least shaded. I spot our table just as Pansy throws a ballednapkin at José. His attention was fixed on the door, so it knocks him in the nose.
The only other person sitting out here is a tired-looking woman situated near the door. Said woman gives the hostess an urgent look. “Can I have my check, please?”
“Of course, dear,” the hostess replies, completely unhurried, and then waves us toward the white metal table set for four. The two empty chairs next to José and Pansy have white cushions with a printed pattern of leaves.
As we make our approach, Pansy’s face, which was compressed with rage before she noticed us, transforms.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” She gives us a hollow smile that reminds me of a collectible doll my mother owned when I was a child. When she and my father went out to dinner one night, I buried it in the backyard, but my guilt was such that I dug it back up a few days later—only to discover the doll had become more horrifying. One of the eye sockets had popped out and a worm had taken up residence in the hollow cranium.
I smile back, certain my expression looks just as fixed and doll-like.
She rises to her feet and, to my horror, wraps her arms around me, tugging my face down to her vanilla-scented neck. Her perfume is even sweeter than I remember, and I jerk back abruptly.
“Uh. I’m not much of a hugger, but it’s nice to see you. Here, Nora, a chair.” I pull out one of the empty ones, and Nora gives me a conspiratorial smile as she sits.
I sit beside her, feeling at a bit of a loss now that we’re all here. I suppose we’re supposed to talk, so I clear my throat and say, “It’s a bit hot out here.”
José sighs. “You’re telling me. I wanted to sit inside, but?—”
“Oh, it’s so lovely and private out here,” Pansy says.
The woman who asked for her check sighs dramatically andheads inside, either deciding to dine and dash or to try and settle up in there.
“Well, it’s private now,” I comment.
“I just wanted to say I’m abigfan of yours,” Pansy tells me, beaming as she leans in close. Alas, she’s sitting next to me at our small, round table, with José on her other side.
“A fan of…mine?” I say.
“Oh, he’s too modest.” This she says to Nora, who shrugs. “He is. Definitely too modest.”
“About what?”
“We heard about your big sale,” Pansy says. “What are you planning on doing now? Are you looking to invest?”
I adjust my glasses unnecessarily and reach for two of the menus stacked on the table, handing one to Nora.
“I guess so.” I open the menu, hoping Pansy will realize I’d prefer not to discuss my semiretirement plans with a stranger. But there’s not much to read. Each entrée is represented by a picture of a smiling vegetable, with a list of potential allergens written beside it. “Is there a different menu for people who enjoy knowing what they’re getting?”
“It’s all about the experience,” Pansy says.
If she insists.
“Anyway, I was just telling José that I figured you’d be into investing,” she continues. “Invest for more success. That’s what people say.”
“Do they?”
“Pansy,” José says in an undertone.
