"After
it sets, you peel off the base and fire the flask."
They sat in a far corner and had coffee.
"So who's F?" George's eyes gleamed.
"Francesca," Oliver said. "I don't know her, really. She's tall and
married."
George shook his head. "Can't live with 'em; can't live without 'em."
He took a large bite of bagel to ease the pain.
"You do all right," Oliver said.
"Oh, you know . . ." George threw one arm in the air. "The artist
thing. They're curious. They're all curious, Olive Oil."
"What happened to Marcia?"
"Oh, Marcia!" George rolled his eyes and deflated somewhat. "She had
allergies, it turned out. Dust. What can I say?"
"She was good looking," Oliver said.
"Oh, yeah, Marcia!" George's voice trailed away. "Look," he said, "it's
going to take a while to get the investment ready. Why don't you come
back around seven? Then we'll cast."
"Outa sight," Oliver said.
He drove to Shop 'N Save and stacked two dozen cans of salmon Friskies
in his shopping cart. He found a box of fancy tea biscuits that he
could offer to his mother. She and Paul were stopping in Portland the
next night. They always stayed at the Holiday Inn, but she would want
to come over and make sure that he wasn't living in filth, had clean
towels, and so on.
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