The Cellar

Jud frowned, enjoying himself and still holding her hand. “Oh yes,” he finally said. “You were at the table behind me, weren’t you?”

Donna nodded. “We were on the tour, too.”

“Right. Did you enjoy it?”

“I thought it was dreadful.”

“I liked it,” the girl said. “It was so gross.”

“It was gross, all right.” He turned his eyes to Donna and stayed quiet, waiting.

“Anyway,” she said. She took a deep breath. In spite of her smile, she looked worried.

“How’d you like that crazy woman before the tour?” Sandy asked him.

The worry suddenly vanished from Donna’s face. In a voice thick with sincerity, she said, “That’s why I wanted to see you, why I…chased you the way I did.” She smiled shyly. “I wanted to tell you how refreshing it was, the way you stuck up for that woman. The way you helped her. It was such a thoughtful thing to do.”

“Thank you.”

“You should’ve given that turkey a knuckle sandwich,” Sandy told him.

“I gave the matter lots of thought.”

“You should’ve punched out his lights.”

“He backed off.”

“Sandy has a taste for violence,” Donna said.

“Well,” said Jud. He let the single word stand like a period, ending his part of the conversation.

“Well,” Donna echoed. Though she kept her smile, Jud could see her start to deflate. “I just wanted to let you know…how much I admired the way you helped the woman.”

“Thank you. Nice to meet both of you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sandy said.

Donna started to pull her hand away, but Jud tightened his grip. “Do you have time for a Bloody Mary?” he asked.

“Well…”

“Sandy,” he said, “how about a Coke or 7-up?”

“Sure!”

“How about it?” he asked Donna.

“Sure. Why not?”

“I think the Welcome Inn should have what we’re looking for. Are you on foot?”

“We’ve been on them all morning,” said Donna.

“In that case, I’ll personally chauffeur you to the door.” He walked beside them to his Chrysler, and found it locked. Larry grinned out at him, brimming with satisfaction. Jud made a cranking motion. With a humming sound, the passenger window opened.

“Yes?” Larry asked innocently.

“They’re friends.”

“Maybe your friends.”

Jud turned to Donna. “Charm him.”

She bent beside the car. At eye level with him, she said, “I’m Donna Hayes.” She reached a hand into the window. Larry met it with his hand and shook it briefly, making a smile that seemed to strain his face.

“Admit it,” he said. “You’re a reporter.”

“I’m a passenger-service agent with TWA.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

“She is,” said Sandy.

“Who asked you?” he snapped.

Sandy began to giggle.

“Who’s she?”

“That’s Sandy, my daughter.”

“Daughter, eh? Then you’re married?”

“Not anymore.”

“Ah-ha! A feminist!”

Sandy turned away, laughing out of control.

“Don’t you like feminists?” Donna asked him.

“Only with Bearnaise sauce,” he said.

When Donna laughed, the corners of Larry’s mouth began to tremble with concealed mirth. “I suppose…” He swallowed. “I suppose I’ll be relegated to the backseat with Little Miss Giggles.” He unlocked the door and climbed out.

Donna stepped into the car. She scooted to the middle of the front seat. “Miss Giggles can manage the backseat on her own.”

“A lady! I’ve met a lady!” Larry got in beside her. She unlocked the driver’s door for Jud, while Larry reached behind him to get the lock of the back door.

“Where to?” Larry asked, slapping his thighs.

“The Welcome Inn,” said Jud. “For drinks and lunch.”

“Wonderful. A party. I love parties.” He looked over his shoulder. “Don’t you love parties, Miss Giggles?”

“I find them enchanting,” replied Sandy, and burst into a new fit of hysteria.

As they were passing the Chevron station, Sandy called out, “There’s our car!”

“Is it sick?” Larry asked.

Donna said, “We had a little accident last night.”

“Nothing serious, I hope.”

“Just bruises and scrapes.”

“Would you like me to stop?” Jud asked.

“Would you mind?”

He pulled into the station. Larry climbed out to let Donna through. Then he got back in and shut the door.

“I suppose it’s never difficult for a woman to demolish a car,” Larry said, looking around at the girl. “How did your mother accomplish it?”

Jud didn’t listen to the girl’s reply. All his attention was focused on Donna: on the way the sun shimmered in the flow of her brown hair, on the inward curve of her back and how the mounds of her buttocks shifted under her corduroy pants as she walked. In front of the office, she met a man wearing coveralls and a smirk. They talked. Donna tossed her rump to the left and slid a hand down her rear pocket. She nodded. With a graceful pivot, she followed the man to her car, where he opened the hood and shook his head.

Jud watched her hair sweep down the side of her face as she ducked to look under the hood. She straightened up, talking.

“Uh-oh,” he heard Sandy say.

The man slammed the hood shut.

Donna talked to him, and nodded while he spoke. She pushed both hands into her hip pockets, and shifted again to her left leg. Then she swung around. She walked with long strides toward Jud’s car, shrugged, made a face to show exasperation, and smiled.

Larry climbed out to let her in.

“Well,” she told Jud, “it’s still among the living. He has to send to Santa Rosa, though, for a new radiator.”

“That’ll take a couple of days, won’t it?”

“He said we might be able to leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Sandy sounded worried.

“There’s no way around it, honey.”

“Do you need to get somewhere in a hurry?” Jud asked, and pulled onto the road.

“No, not especially. Two days in this town is just about two days longer than we’d planned on, that’s