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much coincidence for me.”

8

    D if came in the office door a little after six. Virgil hadn’t wanted to leave Rosita sitting in the empty office alone, so he had stayed.
    â€œRosita told me about Velma,” Dif said. “Kinda give me a cold chill. Happens every time, when someone I grew up with passes. Velma and I were in the same class.”
    â€œGuess it does get your attention when it hits a little closer to home. Were you and her an item back then?” Virgil asked.
    â€œWell, I don’t know about an item. I think she kinda used me to get to Charlie. Your daddy and Charlie were bigger than life. Cowboying together, both of them crazier than a rabid dog. Charlie would gallop down Main Street, sitting backward in the saddle, rolling a cigarette. Hell, even I was impressed. The girls, well, they just went nuts. How do you compete with that?”
    â€œMy dad never told me about those days.”
    â€œMost dads don’t tell their offspring about the crazy-ass things they did when they were young. Kinda diminishes theauthority of an authority figure to see them with their pants down.”
    â€œI just don’t believe what I am hearing,” Rosita said, “with the vocabulary of a philosophy teacher to go along with it. Diminishes? Authority figure? Dif, you been taking night classes or just reading those
JAMA
articles in Doc Hicks’s office?”
    â€œWhy, Rosita, didn’t you know I’m chock-full of superfluous knowledge?”
    Virgil broke out into a laugh. “I always knew you were chock-full of something, but all along I figured it was something that’d pass naturally through your system. I was going to suggest a dose of Miralax to help with that.”
    More laughter filled the room. Night had fallen. The darkness inside had been displaced by a little humor, along with the sharing of past history. The three sat together for almost an hour. The conversation covered everything from the World Series to the federal deficit and a lot of other things they didn’t agree on, but that didn’t matter because it was more about the sharing than anything else.
    Finally, Virgil got to his feet. He looked at the relic of a clock that hung on the wall. “My stomach and that clock are reminding me that I haven’t eaten in over twelve hours.”
    â€œThat’s a bad habit I’ve managed to avoid,” Dif said as he patted the overlap on his belt.
    â€œWhat about you, Rosie?” Virgil asked.
    â€œNo. I figured to have a bite with Velma.” A hint of something came into her eyes as she said it.
    â€œC’mon then,” Virgil said, coming to her rescue. “Let’s you and me grab something. It’ll be like a date. Then you can tell Dave about it. Stir his interest.”
    â€œAfter twenty-four years, I think I’d need a backhoe for that.”
    A little more prodding and Virgil got Rosie headed toward the door. When they stepped outside, Virgil immediately went toward the cruiser.
    â€œVirgil, it’s a nice night. Why don’t we just walk to Margie’s?”
    â€œJust get in the vehicle.” He held the door open. Rosie gave him a puzzled look as he slid in on the other side. They drove in silence for the next couple of minutes until they crossed over the bridge that Jimmy and his sister, Abby, regularly fished from, then headed west along the river for a mile, until they saw the red glow that announced their destination.
    â€œThe Branding Iron. Guess this is going to be a steak night,” Rosie said.
    â€œFigured we needed something a little different. A little step up from Margie’s.”
    They passed some empty outside tables on their way to the front door. “Guess it’s a little too cool for folks to be sitting out here looking at the river now,” Virgil said. “Probably be putting them away soon till spring.”
    The long, low building was built of logs so dark that at