Read Online Practical Demonkeeping by Christopher Moore - Free Book Online Page B

She took it, tentatively.
    â€œJennifer—” She was about to tell him that she was married and that he was nice and all. “I’m not married,” she said. She immediately wanted to disappear into the kitchen and never come back.
    â€œMe either,” Travis said. “I’m new in town.” He didn’t seem to notice how awkward she was. “Look, Jennifer, I’m looking for an address and I wonder if you could tell me how to find it? Do you know how to get to Cheshire Street?”
    Jenny was relieved to be talking about anything but herself. She rattled off a series of streets and turns, landmarks and signs, that would lead Travis to Cheshire Street. When she finished, he just looked at her quizzically.
    â€œI’ll draw you a map,” she said. She took a pen from her apron, bent over the table, and began drawing on a napkin.
    Their faces were inches apart. “You’re very beautiful,” he said.
    She looked at him. She didn’t know whether to smile or scream. Not yet , she thought. I’m not ready .
    He didn’t wait for her to respond. “You remind me of someone I used to know.”
    â€œThank you…” She tried to remember his name. “…Travis.”
    â€œHave dinner with me tonight?”
    She searched for an excuse. None came. She couldn’t use the one she had used for a decade—it wasn’t true anymore. And shehadn’t been alone long enough to brush up on some new lies. In fact, she felt that she was somehow being unfaithful to Robert just by talking to this guy. But she was a single woman. Finally she wrote her phone number under the map on the napkin and handed it to him.
    â€œMy number’s on the bottom. Why don’t you call me tonight, around five, and we’ll take it from there, okay?”
    Travis folded the napkin and put it in his shirt pocket. “Until tonight,” he said.
    â€œOh, spare me!” a gravely voice said. Jenny turned toward the voice, but there was only the empty chair.
    To Travis she said, “Did you hear that?”
    â€œHear what?” Travis glared at the empty chair.
    â€œNothing,” Jenny said, “I’m starting to go over the edge, I think.”
    â€œRelax,” Travis said. “I won’t bite you.” He shot a glance at the chair.
    â€œYour order is up. I’ll be right back.”
    She retrieved the food from the window and delivered it to Travis. While he ate, she stood behind the counter separating coffee filters for the lunch shift, occasionally looking up and smiling at the dark, young man, who paused between bites and smiled back.
    She was fine, just fine. She was a single woman and could do any damned thing she wanted to. She could go out with anyone she wanted to. She was young and attractive and she had just made her first date in ten years—sort of.
    Over all of her affirmations her fears flew up and perched like a murder of crows. It occurred to her that she didn’t have the slightest idea what she was going to wear. The freedom of single life had suddenly become a burden, a mixed blessing, herpes on the pope’s ring. Maybe she wouldn’t answer the phone when he called.
    Travis finished eating and paid his bill, leaving her far too large a tip.
    â€œSee you tonight,” he said.
    â€œYou bet.” She smiled.
    She watched him walk across the parking lot. He seemed to be talking to someone as he walked. Probably just singing. Guys did that right after they made a date, didn’t they? Maybe he was just a whacko?
    For the hundredth time that morning she resisted the urge to call Robert and tell him to come home.

8
ROBERT
    Robert loaded the last of the laundry baskets full of dishes into the bed of the pickup. The sight of a truckload of clean dishes did not raise his spirits nearly as much as he thought it would. He was still depressed. He was still heartbroken. And he was still hung over.
    For a moment