Today?”
“Yes, if you like.”
“You bet I like. Where do you want to go, Christine?”
“I’d just as soon the same place. Where we were before. Anthony’s. There’s no bustle there, it’s very relaxing.”
“You’re sure?”
“Um hum. About one?”
“Great, I’ll be waiting.”
“See you, Jack.”
He was at the bar when she walked in, talking to Mario, who greeted her with a smile and a hello. “Nice to see you again,” he said. “Martini with olive, right?”
“You have a good memory. Yes, thanks. Hi, Jack.”
“Hi, Christine. Come on, let’s find a booth.”
“Were you waiting long?”
“No, just got here a few minutes ago. You’re right on time.”
“One of my few virtues, punctuality.”
It was earlier than the last time they had been here, and the place was very well occupied today, with two waiters serving and Mario behind the bar. It was cheerful and pleasantly lively, with men in business suits and a few young girls dressed rather well. This modest-looking midtown cafe-restaurant apparently attracted a respectable clientele.
They slid into one of the booths and then a waiter came over with the drinks. “This is something I didn’t anticipate when I got up this morning,” Jack said, and picked up his glass. “Here’s to you, Christine, long time no see.”
“To you,” she said, lifting her own glass. “Long time no do anything except solve the many problems of Rodney Thornley, Esq., that’s about it.”
“And now they’re all solved?”
“More or less one hundred percent. He doesn’t know anyone his own age, but I can’t figure out what to do about that.”
“Isn’t it up to him?”
“Except that he’s a stranger in a strange city, which can throw anyone off.”
“Otherwise how are you, Christine?”
“Why, tip-top. Cardiogram’s good, blood pressure normal and nothing wrong with my appetite. How’s your bill of health, Jack?”
His laugh rang out. “Is that the way it sounded? I guess it was for instead of the weather. Isn’t it a nice day. Wonderful temperatures, not too chilly, not too warm. Dandy not to have to wear a topcoat. A lead-in. We’re strangers, when it comes right down to it, no longer any housing perplexities to gas about, and my fervent wish is to sit here unhurried for as long as I can hold your interest.”
“Aren’t you funny, did you think I wanted you to perform? I’m very pleased to see you, Jack. Well, I called you, didn’t I? Tell me about your apartment, why don’t you, I’ve been wondering if it’s come up to expectations.”
“It has. Very much so. It’s diverting to be in a new place. You wake up and wonder for a minute where you are, and then you realize, oh yeah, I’m in this new place. Nothing is where it was before. You reach for a light switch and now it’s not there anymore, it’s somewhere else. You have a feeling you’ve gone to another city, not just another neighborhood. Good for the soul, moving. Everyone should pull up stakes once every five years or so, it shakes you up.”
“Maybe. Out of the old groove. I enjoy being in a foreign city. Opening your eyes to entirely different sights. And sounds. And smells. Other cities — that is, cities in other countries always smell so different. Don’t you think?”
“Oh, sure. Paris smells like Paris. Paris has the most pungent smell of any city I can think of. Rome smells like newsprint, I’ve always thought, maybe it’s just because they have so many newspapers there. Any city in Spain you’re in, you know it’s Spain, all right, it couldn’t be anywhere else.”
“Spain always smells like hot brick.”
“That’s because Spain is, let’s face it, hot brick. Baked daily by the sun.”
“Seville. I couldn’t get dry after my bath. I sat on the edge of the tub and cried.”
“In a
hotel
?”
“It was so ridiculous, we chose this hotel because it was a beautiful old monastery, one of those restored places, with a garden like
“Yes, if you like.”
“You bet I like. Where do you want to go, Christine?”
“I’d just as soon the same place. Where we were before. Anthony’s. There’s no bustle there, it’s very relaxing.”
“You’re sure?”
“Um hum. About one?”
“Great, I’ll be waiting.”
“See you, Jack.”
He was at the bar when she walked in, talking to Mario, who greeted her with a smile and a hello. “Nice to see you again,” he said. “Martini with olive, right?”
“You have a good memory. Yes, thanks. Hi, Jack.”
“Hi, Christine. Come on, let’s find a booth.”
“Were you waiting long?”
“No, just got here a few minutes ago. You’re right on time.”
“One of my few virtues, punctuality.”
It was earlier than the last time they had been here, and the place was very well occupied today, with two waiters serving and Mario behind the bar. It was cheerful and pleasantly lively, with men in business suits and a few young girls dressed rather well. This modest-looking midtown cafe-restaurant apparently attracted a respectable clientele.
They slid into one of the booths and then a waiter came over with the drinks. “This is something I didn’t anticipate when I got up this morning,” Jack said, and picked up his glass. “Here’s to you, Christine, long time no see.”
“To you,” she said, lifting her own glass. “Long time no do anything except solve the many problems of Rodney Thornley, Esq., that’s about it.”
“And now they’re all solved?”
“More or less one hundred percent. He doesn’t know anyone his own age, but I can’t figure out what to do about that.”
“Isn’t it up to him?”
“Except that he’s a stranger in a strange city, which can throw anyone off.”
“Otherwise how are you, Christine?”
“Why, tip-top. Cardiogram’s good, blood pressure normal and nothing wrong with my appetite. How’s your bill of health, Jack?”
His laugh rang out. “Is that the way it sounded? I guess it was for instead of the weather. Isn’t it a nice day. Wonderful temperatures, not too chilly, not too warm. Dandy not to have to wear a topcoat. A lead-in. We’re strangers, when it comes right down to it, no longer any housing perplexities to gas about, and my fervent wish is to sit here unhurried for as long as I can hold your interest.”
“Aren’t you funny, did you think I wanted you to perform? I’m very pleased to see you, Jack. Well, I called you, didn’t I? Tell me about your apartment, why don’t you, I’ve been wondering if it’s come up to expectations.”
“It has. Very much so. It’s diverting to be in a new place. You wake up and wonder for a minute where you are, and then you realize, oh yeah, I’m in this new place. Nothing is where it was before. You reach for a light switch and now it’s not there anymore, it’s somewhere else. You have a feeling you’ve gone to another city, not just another neighborhood. Good for the soul, moving. Everyone should pull up stakes once every five years or so, it shakes you up.”
“Maybe. Out of the old groove. I enjoy being in a foreign city. Opening your eyes to entirely different sights. And sounds. And smells. Other cities — that is, cities in other countries always smell so different. Don’t you think?”
“Oh, sure. Paris smells like Paris. Paris has the most pungent smell of any city I can think of. Rome smells like newsprint, I’ve always thought, maybe it’s just because they have so many newspapers there. Any city in Spain you’re in, you know it’s Spain, all right, it couldn’t be anywhere else.”
“Spain always smells like hot brick.”
“That’s because Spain is, let’s face it, hot brick. Baked daily by the sun.”
“Seville. I couldn’t get dry after my bath. I sat on the edge of the tub and cried.”
“In a
hotel
?”
“It was so ridiculous, we chose this hotel because it was a beautiful old monastery, one of those restored places, with a garden like
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