'Let me change and grab a quick shower,' she said. 'Ten minutes.'
'No hurry,' I said.
She went to the locker room, and I passed the time counting the number of women in spandex who should not have been wearing spandex. By the time Glenda came back out of the locker room in an ankle-length camel's hair coat and high boots, the count was up to All.
'For crissake,' I said. 'It really was ten minutes.'
Glenda smiled faintly. She smelled of expensive soap and maybe a hint of even more expensive perfume. I stood and held the door for her. As we left, I said to the receptionist, 'Have a great front desk.'
She smiled even more faintly than Glenda.
It was always a pleasure to go into a coffee shop on a cold day and smell the coffee and the bacon and feel the warmth. We sat in the back in a wooden booth with blue checkered paper place mats on it. I started to slide in opposite Glenda.
'Sit beside me,' she said. 'It will be easier to talk.'
Glenda slid in, I sat beside her, and a waitress with a white apron over jeans and a green sweater came over and asked if we wanted coffee. We did. The waitress poured it while we glanced at the menu. Since I had to stay alert for the Gray Man, I felt that caffeinated was a health necessity. In fact, it seemed to me that I'd best have more than one cup.
They were out of donuts but there were corn muffins and I ordered a couple. Glenda had decaf, black, and an order of whole wheat toast, no butter. I hung my jacket on a hook on the corner of the booth. Glenda kept her coat on.
'How many classes a day do you teach?' I said.
'Varies. Today I just had the one.'
'Where'd you learn to do this stuff.'
'I was a sports and recreation major at college,' she said. 'After I got married, I took a certification course.'
'Better than sitting around the house reading Vogue?'
'I'm a very physical person,' Glenda said.
'I could tell that,' I said. 'Is your husband equally physical?'
'Hunt is more business oriented,' Glenda said.
The waitress brought the toast and the corn muffins and freshened the coffee.
'That's decaf?' Glenda said.
'Yes, ma'am,' the waitress said. 'You can always tell by the green handle on the pot.'
Glenda seemed not to have heard her. She was half turned in the corner of the booth, looking at me. Her gaze had that mile long quality that politicians had-the eyes were on me, but the focus was somewhere else.
'So the aerobics teaching is a nice outlet for you,' I said.
'There are better outlets,' Glenda said absently.
'Un huh.'
'But to tell you the truth, we can use the money. Hunt's not making a very big salary.'
'Doesn't his family run the business?'
'Yes, and they are cheap as hell. I tell him they're exploiting him simply because he is family and they can get away with it.'
'Well,' I said, 'someday it'll be his, I suppose, and then he can exploit somebody.'
'Someday is a long way off,' Glenda said.
'And you have to pass the time somehow,' I said.
The mile-long stare disappeared, and her gaze suddenly focused very concretely on me.
'You are very understanding,' she said.
I dropped my eyes a little and shrugged.
'Part of the job,' I said.
'Am I part of the job, too?' she said. 'Is that why you wanted to see me again?'
I finished my second corn muffin. She was looking at me in such sharp focus that I sort of missed the mile-long stare.
'I thought so when I drove up here,' I said.
'And now?'
As we talked, she had been completely still, moving only to drink her black coffee. Her dry toast lay untouched on the paper plate in front of her.
'I'm glad I came.'
She smiled. There was nothing faraway in the smile. It was smiled at me, and it was full of charge and
