"Guess you heard Professor Forland is missing."
"Harry told me when I came home last night."
"Thanks." Rollie eagerly grasped the large mug when Kyle slid it to him.
"Doesn't make much sense. He doesn't seem like the kind of man to go on a bender."
"You never know about people. Everyone's got secrets." Rollie sounded learned.
Fair uttered the words that were music to Rollie's ears. "You're right."
Kyle, who'd been listening to theories about the professor's disappearance all week in the news, said, "Wouldn't believe the stuff I've heard." He paused. "He's captured by Al Qaeda. He is Al Qaeda. He's run off with Dinny Ostermann's wife. It goes on."
"People can talk." Rollie pointed his finger at the door to the coffee shop. "Who knows what goes on out there?"
Fair tapped his head. "Who knows what goes on in here?"
"Nutcase?" Kyle's brow furrowed.
"The professor?" Rollie propped his elbow on the counter.
Kyle leaned over the counter. "Or whoever snatched him."
Always one to look on the bright side, Fair added, "Oh, he might show up. Embarrassed maybe."
The door swung open at regular intervals. The lunch crowd started at eleven and didn't taper off until two in the afternoon. Kyle appreciated a large lunch clientele.
Fair slid his money across the counter. Rollie pushed it back. "I owe you a cup of coffee. You were right about the colt."
"How's the little fella doing?" Fair smiled broadly. He loved babies.
"Pretty good. 'Course, my wife spends more time with him than with me. She's so soft-hearted."
"That's why she married you." Fair honored him by teasing him.
Rollie thought about that a minute. "Might be right. You know, I wonder sometimes what the world would be like without women. Apart from being dull."
"We'd kill each other," Fair simply stated.
"Is this a woman-as-civilizing-force discussion?" Kyle cracked as he motioned for his waitstaff to pick up the pace.
"They are." Rollie placed a crisp ten-dollar bill on the polished counter.
Kyle, having had his troubles with women, grumbled, "What the hell do they want? Maybe they do make the world kinder, I don't know, but I can't figure out what they want."
"Whatever they tell you," Fair, accustomed to Harry being forthright, advised.
"They say one thing one day and another thing the next." Kyle put his hand on his hip. "It drives me crazy."
"Everyone, man or woman, wants to feel special," Fair said. "You have to figure out what that person really needs and then figure out what they want. The two aren't always the same, you know."
Rollie stared at Fair, taking his measure as if for the first time. "Guess you do."
"My experience in keeping a woman — happy—and mind you, I didn't the first time around; I learned this the hard way, by losing the best woman I could ever hope for— but give her what she wants. Simple."
"The Taj Mahal." Kyle grimaced.
"Oh, Kyle. You know what I mean." Fair leaned down, since he was now standing, and lowered his voice. "Give her what she wants in bed. Take your time. Count from one hundred backward if you have to, but take your time. Bring her flowers just because. Take out the trash. Wash and wax her car. Do stuff. Tell her she looks pretty."
"You do all that?" Rollie seemed amazed.
"Sure I do. Harry's a country girl. What makes her happy? A new pair of work boots that won't hurt her feet. And some flowers with the boots are okay, too. Maybe another woman would like the money for a new dress or something, but with Harry, practicality comes first."
"When did you know you'd won her back?" Rollie was now quite interested.
"Started two years ago when I bought the dually. Helped her buy it, really, and Art Bushey, who owned the Ford dealership then, helped me. But I knew I was across home plate when I bought her that colt by Fred Astaire. He was a yearling when I bought him, correct and good mind. She melted. After that it was a matter of time."
"Two years," Kyle matter-of-factly stated.
Rollie blurted out, "You hung on for two more years?"
"I kept asking her to marry me. I knew she'd say yes eventually. No one will ever love her like I do, and I learned my lesson. She knows that."
"I don't know if I have that stamina," Kyle declared.
"Then you don't love her enough," Fair bluntly replied, which was surprising coming from him.
"He might have a point." Rollie supported Fair. "I haven't met a man yet who doesn't have to jump through hoops of fire. Once you do it, you're okay. But I mean, they'll put you through fire."
"I just don't see the point." Kyle raised his voice and a few customers turned his way.
"Because you're a man," Fair said. "Listen to me. You don't have to see the point. You just have to do what needs to be done."
"Yeah, if you try to understand a woman you'll never get to first base. Some things you can understand, but other things, ridiculous as they are, are really important to them. So, like the man says, do what they tell you." Rollie chuckled at this.
He and Fair walked out together.
"Learned something about you today," Fair warmly said. "You pay attention."
"Sometimes."
13
"Slow down,"Pewter growled, running behind Mrs. Murphy.
"No!"
Ahead, a baby bunny ran evasively to avoid the sharp claws of the tiger cat. The little fellow just made it to his warren and the comfort of his mother as the cat pounced a great final pounce.
"Brute!"the mother bunny scolded Mrs. Murphy.
"Drat!"The tiger sat down, bent her head for a better look at the large cottontail glaring back at her.
Pewter, panting, pulled up beside Mrs. Murphy."Nearly got 'im."
"We'd have our own Easter Bunny."Mrs. Murphy said this loud enough to further infuriate the mother rabbit."Maybe the Easter Bunny will have a limp," Pewter hopefully remarked.
At this, both Mrs. Murphy and Pewter exploded in laughter.
"You cats think you're superior."The mother rabbit sniffed."We'll see how superioryou are when the bobcat gets you."
"Have you seen him?"Pewter feared the medium-size predator.
"He passes by. He's a killer, that one, and one day he'll have you in his jaws."
"What a pretty thought,"Mrs. Murphy saucily replied as she turned and trotted back over the greening-up pastures.
"/hate that cat." Pewter fell in alongside her best friend.
"Nearly took me to heaven twice. Thank God for the red fox. He saved me first time out. And Tucker did the second time when that devil snuck up on me."
"You'd think you would have smelled him. He's strong."
"Upwind and a strong wind. I didn't know until I heard a twig crack."Mrs. Murphy ruffled her fur, then it settled. "/burned the wind and I still couldn't put enough distance between us. He's incredibly fast. And ruthless."
"Why'd the fox help you?"
"Because once I helped him. Also, I always tell the foxes when the hounds will be here. And now that the Bland Wade tract has been added to the holdings, or I should say the use of it all, they'll be here at least once a month, come fall."
"Younever take me when you visit the foxes."
"Pewter, you're flopped in the barn or on the sofa and you don't want to move your lardass."
"That's not true. You're selfish."
"Oh la!"Mrs. Murphy tossed this off, sweeping her whiskers forward."Pewter. Stop."
"Don't tell me what to do!"Pewter stepped on a snoozing rattler, a big one.
The membrane rolled back from her eyes and she coiled up, waving her tail, the deadly sound loud.
Both cats jumped sideways as she struck, white fangs poised for action. Then they ran like blazes. The rattler, who could be fast for a short burst despite her winding motion, had no desire to kill the cats. She looked around, sniffed, for she had very good olfactory powers, then moved to a flat rock and decided to doze again in the pleasant, warming afternoon.