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Better with Age(continued) I took her to Gunny's, a soup-and-sandwich joint off the interstate.
The tables are low there, so you really have to bend over to get a spoonful
safely in your mouth. Nicole sat across from me, a big bowl of chicken
noodle in front of her. I had beef and bean, and we shared a loaf of
bread between us, breaking off bites and dipping them in our bowls. "This is great," she said. I nodded. "Try some of this," I said, indicating my own bowl. She broke off a bite from the loaf and reached over the table, dipping
it slowly until it was soaked through. Then she brought it to her lips
and ate it. Broth dribbled down her chin, and she wiped it with her
napkin. "Not bad, huh?" Her eyes rolled back in her head. "Amazing," she said, then
swallowed. "I used to take my wife here all the time," I said, then
realized I had mentioned my wife and wanted to smack myself in the face
with a tire iron. "You don't any more?" I shook my head. "Never." "Why not?" I broke off a piece of bread. "We don't really go out anymore." "What do you do?" I smiled and ate the bite. "Nothing." Nicole nodded and looked far out the window on her left. "I know
how that goes." "You married?" She held up an empty left hand. "Divorced." "Really?" I asked, leaning back. "Who would ever divorce
you?" Nicole smiled. "No one," she said. "I divorced him." "That takes guts." She sipped her soup. "He made me do things that I'm not proud
of." "Like what?" But Nicole just shook her head, and I guessed that I already knew.
On Thursday, Nancy took the day off, just as she said she would. Nicole
had learned quickly from Nancy, and only rarely buzzed me with minor
questions, like how to input an out-of-state sale, or where we kept
the decaf coffee packets. We were the only two people in the office,
just as Nancy and I had been, but the dynamics were the same. I'd thought
things would be different, but after that lunch with her, I couldn't
look at her the way I had the first time I saw her. I saw her now, not
as a vixen in black gloves kneeling on a chair, but as a divorcee, as
a girl who had undoubtedly fought with some jerk with a digital camera.
The drive that had screamed through me was gone again, not even dormant,
like it could ever come back. Just gone. "Harry?" she said over the intercom. I flipped the switch. "Yeah?" "Can you come out here? There's a guy who wants to talk to you
about a strut shipment." "I'll be right out." In the reception area, Nicole wore a tight white T-shirt that showed
the outline of her bra underneath. Before her stood Ted Ogden, an old
mechanic who owned a shop in the next county. He'd been a customer with
my father, and kept his business here after I took over. "Ted!"
I shook his hand. He wore a red flannel shirt, dirty jeans, and worn
yellow gloves. It looked like he'd run a greasy paw back through the
white ring of hair that encircled his shiny dome. "What can I do
for ya?" Ted smiled and nodded at Nicole. "If I'd-a known you had this
vixen workin' the desk I'd-a been over every day." Nicole looked
away. "What happened to Nancy? She didn't croak, did she?" I shook my head. "Retired." "I been thinkin' about it myself," Ted said. "Figured
I'd get bored, though." "I know what you mean."
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