Clearwater Journals

Interdigitating

Interdigitating

I entered the IHOP wondering what my reception would be like from the woman who managed the place. When I had left there yesterday, she had definitely been as chilly as a penguin with frostbite. I didn't have to worry; she wasn't there. Neither was Mia. At least, I couldn't spot her right away.

A short, chubby, black waitress named Janille ambled over to the checkout counter where I was standing doing my impression of a stork with its head out of the sand.

"How many?"

I quickly checked behind me. There was only me. I smiled-black humour-I get it. "Perhaps none-I'm looking for Mia."

"She's on her break-probably out back in the parking lot in that piece of trash she calls a car," Janille said in her syrupy southern drawl. She turned her broad back on me and waddled off in the direction of the kitchen.

"Thanks," I said to her retreating, swinging backside. She just waved a stubby hand over her thick shoulder and continued waddling.

I turned and left the restaurant heading for the parking lot. As I turned the corner at the back of the building, I spotted Mia in her white blouse, black slacks IHOP outfit walking slowly back from her car. She saw me at about the same time and flashed me a wide smile as she hurried over.

"Hi," she said, "How are you doing after all the adventure of last night?"

"Just fine - and you?"

"I'm good. Did you get anywhere at the library this morning?"

"Yeah," I replied uncertainly, "For the first little while, I got really hung up in the section on erotic lesbian literature of the Victorian Era-just for a few hours really-quite stimulating actually."

"You what?" Mia asked as she came to a full stop and looked up at me. There was anger and surprise in her tone, but her blue eyes sparkled. We were playing. It was fun.

"Well, maybe not for hours, maybe just long enough to make me look at English cucumbers in an entirely different light."

She laughed. "You may very well be the weirdest guy I've ever known."

"Weird is good." I love it when she laughs. "And then I read all the reports from a few of the newspapers that covered the story. A nice old lady-not a lesbian but maybe a Victorian-helped me out. I have a few ideas, but I think I have to tell you all over again-this may really be almost impossible. Don't get your hopes up too high."

Her lingering smile vanished and the light went out in her bright blue eyes. There was a bite when she said, "Now, are you saying that you won't help me?" Her disappointment and anger were clear.

"Not at all," I replied quickly. We had started to walk to the IHOP again and then we stopped. "I'm just saying-I don't want you to get your hopes too high. When are you off? We should sit down together. I can go over some of the stuff with you that I think we might consider. There are also a lot of questions that we need to find answers for."

Mia gave me another weak smile and then took a quick peek at the slim, gold digital watch that she wore on the inside of her left wrist. "I work another two hours. Why don't you come in and eat, then go for a walk and come back for me. We can sit on the beach then and watch the sun set."

"Sounds like a plan," I said. I really wanted to just stand there and perhaps hold her, or hear her laugh again. Instead, I fell into step beside her. "What's good on the menu today?"

"Same old, same old-knock yourself out Hon," she replied slipping her slim hand into mine. Her touch was electric. It came as such a surprise to me that I looked down to do a quick reality check. She looked up at me, smiled and then gently squeezed my hand. "You don't have to leave me a tip, but try to be cool in there. I don't want you drooling all over the menus."