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This time it was Joan leaning forward in her chair. “What’s wrong?”
Linda lowered her mug to the white slate coffee table in front of them. “There was this man. Harold…Harry…yes, Harry. Harry Gatlin. That’s it. Tall, nice-looking, a retired professor, his wife died maybe three years ago…a lovely man. What do you think?”
“What do I think about what?”
“Would you like to meet him?”
“What?” What was happening?
“Well, it just occurred to me…You’re both around the same age, you lost your husband, he lost his wife. You’re both very…interesting.” Another furtive glance at Joan’s hair.
“I don’t think so,” Joan said.
“Are you seeing someone?”
“No, but—”
“Then, come on. He’s a doll. Trust me. He’s well traveled, cultured, funny.” She laughed. “He was telling me about his attempts at online dating. Real horror stories. Can you imagine doing something like that?” she asked, as Joan squirmed in her seat.
“Still, I give him credit. It’s not easy putting yourself out there. Tricky enough when you’re young, but at our age…So, what do you say? Can I make a few subtle inquiries?”
Joan doubted there was anything that the woman sitting across from her could say or do that might be considered remotely subtle. Still, anything would be an improvement over the likes of Simply Pete and his leopard-print thong. She rose decisively to her feet. “Sure, why not?”
“That’s the spirit.”
Joan carried her mug back into the kitchen, depositing it in the stainless-steel sink. “Thanks for the tea.” She turned around to find Linda gathering up the newspapers strewn across the island countertop.
“Isn’t it awful about that poor girl?” Linda was saying, pointing to the picture of Tiffany Sleight on the front page. “They’re saying she was raped and tortured.” She shuddered, accompanying Joan to the front door. “So, I’ll call you after I speak to Harry.”
“I’m curious,” Joan said, stopping in the doorway. “What are you going to tell him about me?”
“That there’s this lovely woman in my building I think he should meet.”
“What about my hair?”
Linda paused. “Why don’t we let that be a surprise?”
