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.“The dog was a good idea.I’m glad you talked me into keeping her.”“No problem.I’m good at solving everyone’s problems but my own.”The bitterness in her voice surprised me.“Is something wrong?” I asked.She shook her head.“Just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.I’ll be fine once I’ve had breakfast and we’re on the road again.”I sometimes forgot that the whole purpose of this trip was to move Alice to a new home.“I bet you’re anxious to get to California and be settled,” I said.“Not really.” She drained her cup and tossed it into a trash can.“But I suppose I have to get there eventually, so we might as well get going.”I drove most of the day.Alice slumped against the passenger window, quieter than usual.I didn’t know what to do, so I kept quiet.The way I see it, everyone’s entitled to a bad mood now and then.Eventually it would pass and Alice would be back to her lively self.When we pulled into Grand Junction, Colorado, that evening, she said, “I can’t face sitting around a hotel room one more evening.Let’s go out somewhere.”“What about Cocoa?” I looked at the pup, who had proved to be a good traveler.She’d spent the day alternately napping on the bench seat between us and sitting up gazing intently out the windshield.“We’ll put her in the bathroom with a blanket and a bowl of food and she’ll be fine.She’ll probably go right to sleep.”Which is what I felt like doing after the rough night I’d had previously.But I wanted to help Alice the way she’d helped me.If going out would cheer her up, then I was all for it.We set out on foot from the motel, down what looked to be the main drag of the town.“Where are we going?” I asked as we crossed the street.“We’re out West, right?”“Right.”“Then let’s find some cowboys.” She nodded toward a neon sign a half block away.Next to a well-lit, oversize cowboy boot were the words The Silver Spur.Despite the bright lights outside, The Silver Spur was a dim paneled room with a mirror-backed bar along one wall and pool tables at the rear.Country music from the jukebox competed with the laughter from the pool players.Everyone I saw was dressed alike, regardless of their sex—colorful shirts, jeans, boots and cowboy hats.I felt as out of place as a dandelion in a wedding bouquet.As we walked in, at least a dozen Stetson-covered heads swiveled in our direction.I watched, amazed, as Alice turned up the wattage on her smile, exaggerated the sway of her hips and developed a drawl I’d never heard before.“Howdy, fellas,” she said.“Anybody care to buy a couple of new gals in town a drink?”The shuffle of booted feet on the hardwood floor was so loud I shrank back, half-afraid they were all going to run over us on their way out the door.I don’t know why I was worried, though.Within seconds we were seated at a large round table, with a pitcher of beer and a quartet of admirers.None of them were movie-star handsome, but they made up for any physical shortcomings with an avid appreciation that was enough to make me more light-headed than a whole pitcher of beer.I couldn’t get over the transformation in Alice.The woman who had sat silently in the truck all day was now positively effervescent.She laughed and flirted, eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed in a way that made her seem ten years younger.The four men ranged in age from late twenties to closing in on fifty.They had the weathered skin and calloused hands of men who spend a lot of time outdoors, though for all I knew they coached football or ran landscaping businesses rather than working on ranches.Not that that mattered to me.They were clean and nice-looking and decidedly masculine.One in particular, a rangy, dark-haired man named Tom, paid particular attention to Alice.He had a wide smile and a hint of gray at his temples and a charming manner that made him easy to be around.Alice turned toward him and kept her eyes locked to his, reaching out every so often to touch his arm or his hand.After a while, two others gave up and drifted away, while the fourth man turned his attention to me.His name was Gary, and he was the oldest of the group, with kind blue eyes and a large white hat I suspected covered a balding head.He talked about his job as a county road supervisor and asked me about the floral business.From there we moved on to the weather and baseball.The conversation flowed smoothly, but it was clear neither one of us was strongly attracted to the other.I got the sense Gary was playing wingman—keeping me occupied while Alice and Tom got to know each other better [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.“The dog was a good idea.I’m glad you talked me into keeping her.”“No problem.I’m good at solving everyone’s problems but my own.”The bitterness in her voice surprised me.“Is something wrong?” I asked.She shook her head.“Just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.I’ll be fine once I’ve had breakfast and we’re on the road again.”I sometimes forgot that the whole purpose of this trip was to move Alice to a new home.“I bet you’re anxious to get to California and be settled,” I said.“Not really.” She drained her cup and tossed it into a trash can.“But I suppose I have to get there eventually, so we might as well get going.”I drove most of the day.Alice slumped against the passenger window, quieter than usual.I didn’t know what to do, so I kept quiet.The way I see it, everyone’s entitled to a bad mood now and then.Eventually it would pass and Alice would be back to her lively self.When we pulled into Grand Junction, Colorado, that evening, she said, “I can’t face sitting around a hotel room one more evening.Let’s go out somewhere.”“What about Cocoa?” I looked at the pup, who had proved to be a good traveler.She’d spent the day alternately napping on the bench seat between us and sitting up gazing intently out the windshield.“We’ll put her in the bathroom with a blanket and a bowl of food and she’ll be fine.She’ll probably go right to sleep.”Which is what I felt like doing after the rough night I’d had previously.But I wanted to help Alice the way she’d helped me.If going out would cheer her up, then I was all for it.We set out on foot from the motel, down what looked to be the main drag of the town.“Where are we going?” I asked as we crossed the street.“We’re out West, right?”“Right.”“Then let’s find some cowboys.” She nodded toward a neon sign a half block away.Next to a well-lit, oversize cowboy boot were the words The Silver Spur.Despite the bright lights outside, The Silver Spur was a dim paneled room with a mirror-backed bar along one wall and pool tables at the rear.Country music from the jukebox competed with the laughter from the pool players.Everyone I saw was dressed alike, regardless of their sex—colorful shirts, jeans, boots and cowboy hats.I felt as out of place as a dandelion in a wedding bouquet.As we walked in, at least a dozen Stetson-covered heads swiveled in our direction.I watched, amazed, as Alice turned up the wattage on her smile, exaggerated the sway of her hips and developed a drawl I’d never heard before.“Howdy, fellas,” she said.“Anybody care to buy a couple of new gals in town a drink?”The shuffle of booted feet on the hardwood floor was so loud I shrank back, half-afraid they were all going to run over us on their way out the door.I don’t know why I was worried, though.Within seconds we were seated at a large round table, with a pitcher of beer and a quartet of admirers.None of them were movie-star handsome, but they made up for any physical shortcomings with an avid appreciation that was enough to make me more light-headed than a whole pitcher of beer.I couldn’t get over the transformation in Alice.The woman who had sat silently in the truck all day was now positively effervescent.She laughed and flirted, eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed in a way that made her seem ten years younger.The four men ranged in age from late twenties to closing in on fifty.They had the weathered skin and calloused hands of men who spend a lot of time outdoors, though for all I knew they coached football or ran landscaping businesses rather than working on ranches.Not that that mattered to me.They were clean and nice-looking and decidedly masculine.One in particular, a rangy, dark-haired man named Tom, paid particular attention to Alice.He had a wide smile and a hint of gray at his temples and a charming manner that made him easy to be around.Alice turned toward him and kept her eyes locked to his, reaching out every so often to touch his arm or his hand.After a while, two others gave up and drifted away, while the fourth man turned his attention to me.His name was Gary, and he was the oldest of the group, with kind blue eyes and a large white hat I suspected covered a balding head.He talked about his job as a county road supervisor and asked me about the floral business.From there we moved on to the weather and baseball.The conversation flowed smoothly, but it was clear neither one of us was strongly attracted to the other.I got the sense Gary was playing wingman—keeping me occupied while Alice and Tom got to know each other better [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]