politician.”
“D-minus. He’s a mole-brained idiot
zealot.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
“Plain and simple—nuts.”
“You said that.” Mary stood, stepped to the
coffeepot and poured herself a cup. “Political rhetoric.”
“C-plus.”
“Thank you.” She tasted the coffee. “Ugh,
this is unusually rotten.”
Zack ignored her and mimicked Armstrong’s
Southern drawl. “The time is much more momentous than Hannibal’s
decision to cross the Alps. Beyond Columbus’s discovery of a new
land. Eclipses Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. This is more akin
to those days immediately before ” He
looked at her. “Tell me that’s not nuts ”
“Why are you getting so worked up? It’s just
me.”
“You do understand that we—you, I,
humanity—we are all, all of us, in the hands of an accidentally
placed idiot who thinks Jesus Christ sleeps in the Lincoln
Bedroom ”
“Boca, Boca, Boca, how you tend to
exaggerate.” Mary sat on the arm of the sofa and nursed her
coffee.
“I do not exaggerate ”
“Well, anyway, Armstrong must be putting the
heat on Lande to shut you up.”
“He’ll have to change a few words in the
Constitution ”
“Lande might show him how.”
“Or God.” Zack lit a MORE.
“Maybe he does talk to God.” She looked at
him. “Some people say they do.”
“Who?”
“Don’t you?”
“Difference is, I know I’m crazy, and
besides, the Big Guy isn’t talking back.”
“How objective we are.” Mary walked to the
office window and looked out. “Boca, when can we have dinner?”
Her question, like a surprise jab, hit him
between the eyes. Fifteen seconds passed.
“Take your time. When?”
“Mary, we’ve been through that umpteen
times.”
“Just dinner, for cripes sake.” She tasted
her coffee. “Ugh, I will never understand how you can drink this
tar.”
“I like to think asphalt.” He exhaled.
She shook her head. “So, when can we have
dinner?”
“I feel like I’m being pressured.”
“You feel right.”
“Mary, you know this could be construed as
sexual harassment.”
“What do you mean ‘construed?’ It is .”
“How long have you worked here?”
“You don’t know?”
“Let’s see, four years ”
“Four years and three months—I followed you
here after Florida State, remember?”
“Journalism student, right, tennis
scholarship, Sarasota High, State high school singles’ champ, three
siblings—Kate, Kelly, Jim—father is a coach ”
“Oh, stuff it and quit changing the
subject.”
Zack picked up a Sports Illustrated invoice from his desk. “By the way, this came for you, third
notice.”
She took it, glanced at the total and threw
it back on his desk. “That’s yours, remember? That and free
parking, half my incentive package.”
“What was the other half?”
“A ride on your boat.” She tilted her head.
“Remember?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“When you get my age you forget some
things.”
“Only what you want to.”
Zack looked at his watch—5:05. “How about a
drink?”
“You’re kidding.”
“Just one.”
“You have one, I’ll have two.”
Chapter Nine
A full house this evening, The Tea Company’s
linoleum floor shone from what smelled like a recent Lysol mopping.
The flyspecked fluorescent lights dispersed their familiar yellow
glow over everything, and the odor of cigarette smoke and peanut
cooking oil hung heavy in the air.
Mindy, the female half of the new owner team,
looking very Native American (an eighteen-inch eagle feather stuck
from her shiny black hair), stood at the cash register inside the
front door. She nodded to Mary and smiled at Zack.
A step behind Mary, Zack said to Mindy, “Hear
anything from Joe Case lately?”
Mindy looked to the bar, touched her feather,
cast a quick glance around then said, “No, I don’t know” and
shrugged like she couldn’t talk about it.
Wondering what all that meant, Zack
“D-minus. He’s a mole-brained idiot
zealot.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
“Plain and simple—nuts.”
“You said that.” Mary stood, stepped to the
coffeepot and poured herself a cup. “Political rhetoric.”
“C-plus.”
“Thank you.” She tasted the coffee. “Ugh,
this is unusually rotten.”
Zack ignored her and mimicked Armstrong’s
Southern drawl. “The time is much more momentous than Hannibal’s
decision to cross the Alps. Beyond Columbus’s discovery of a new
land. Eclipses Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. This is more akin
to those days immediately before ” He
looked at her. “Tell me that’s not nuts ”
“Why are you getting so worked up? It’s just
me.”
“You do understand that we—you, I,
humanity—we are all, all of us, in the hands of an accidentally
placed idiot who thinks Jesus Christ sleeps in the Lincoln
Bedroom ”
“Boca, Boca, Boca, how you tend to
exaggerate.” Mary sat on the arm of the sofa and nursed her
coffee.
“I do not exaggerate ”
“Well, anyway, Armstrong must be putting the
heat on Lande to shut you up.”
“He’ll have to change a few words in the
Constitution ”
“Lande might show him how.”
“Or God.” Zack lit a MORE.
“Maybe he does talk to God.” She looked at
him. “Some people say they do.”
“Who?”
“Don’t you?”
“Difference is, I know I’m crazy, and
besides, the Big Guy isn’t talking back.”
“How objective we are.” Mary walked to the
office window and looked out. “Boca, when can we have dinner?”
Her question, like a surprise jab, hit him
between the eyes. Fifteen seconds passed.
“Take your time. When?”
“Mary, we’ve been through that umpteen
times.”
“Just dinner, for cripes sake.” She tasted
her coffee. “Ugh, I will never understand how you can drink this
tar.”
“I like to think asphalt.” He exhaled.
She shook her head. “So, when can we have
dinner?”
“I feel like I’m being pressured.”
“You feel right.”
“Mary, you know this could be construed as
sexual harassment.”
“What do you mean ‘construed?’ It is .”
“How long have you worked here?”
“You don’t know?”
“Let’s see, four years ”
“Four years and three months—I followed you
here after Florida State, remember?”
“Journalism student, right, tennis
scholarship, Sarasota High, State high school singles’ champ, three
siblings—Kate, Kelly, Jim—father is a coach ”
“Oh, stuff it and quit changing the
subject.”
Zack picked up a Sports Illustrated invoice from his desk. “By the way, this came for you, third
notice.”
She took it, glanced at the total and threw
it back on his desk. “That’s yours, remember? That and free
parking, half my incentive package.”
“What was the other half?”
“A ride on your boat.” She tilted her head.
“Remember?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“When you get my age you forget some
things.”
“Only what you want to.”
Zack looked at his watch—5:05. “How about a
drink?”
“You’re kidding.”
“Just one.”
“You have one, I’ll have two.”
Chapter Nine
A full house this evening, The Tea Company’s
linoleum floor shone from what smelled like a recent Lysol mopping.
The flyspecked fluorescent lights dispersed their familiar yellow
glow over everything, and the odor of cigarette smoke and peanut
cooking oil hung heavy in the air.
Mindy, the female half of the new owner team,
looking very Native American (an eighteen-inch eagle feather stuck
from her shiny black hair), stood at the cash register inside the
front door. She nodded to Mary and smiled at Zack.
A step behind Mary, Zack said to Mindy, “Hear
anything from Joe Case lately?”
Mindy looked to the bar, touched her feather,
cast a quick glance around then said, “No, I don’t know” and
shrugged like she couldn’t talk about it.
Wondering what all that meant, Zack
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