She looked away, smiling tolerantly, then brought her eyes back on his. “See, my sister kind of misled you. She’s only sixteen. Our mama don’t want her going out late at night. But I sing, too. I sing at church and wit’ a band in Breaux Bridge and Lafayette sometimes. She tole me you like to come in here for french fries and a drink before you pick her up at the grocery.”
He thought hard on it. “You’re talking about the girl I gave a ride to when it was raining. She works in that store in St. Martinville across from Possum’s. That’s your sister, huh? Yeah, I see the resemblance. I think your sister got the wrong idea. I probably said something about her voice and the fact that I know some people in the entertainment business, but she’s just a kid.”
Tee Jolie gazed into space as though not quite understanding everything she was being told. “I bought your book.”
“No kidding?”
“Why you call it The Green Cage? Is the cage bamboo or somet’ing?”
“You didn’t read it?”
“I got to use the dictionary a lot. You know some words, you.”
“In the Texas farm system, you see a lot of green. Oceans of it. Everywhere you look. I have postgraduate degrees in tractor operation and bucking bales.”
“You went to school in there?”
He pulled at the flesh under his chin with two fingers. “What are you, three or four years older than your sister?”
“That’s about right.”
“Actually, you look more mature than that. In the best way. She’s not as pretty as you, either.”
“I t’ink she is.”
“That’s because you’re a good sister. You want a drink?”
“I don’t mind.”
“I’m sorry, I forget your sister’s name.”
“Blue.”
“I’m sorry I gave Blue the wrong impression. She seems like a nice kid. I hated to see her standing in the rain like that.”
“But you took her out before? She knows everyt’ing about you.”
“If I see somebody walking along a road, particularly at night or in the rain, I give them a ride. People are killed every three or four days by hit-and-run drivers around here.”
“But you was gonna pick her up tonight, right?”
He put a french fry in his mouth, then pushed the basket toward her. He stared at her for a long time. “You weren’t messing with me? You sing professionally?”
“I did an ad on TV in Lafayette. I sang on TV once with Bonsoir Catin, too.” Then she blinked as though remembering he had not answered her question.
“You’re putting me on,” he said.
Her gaze was fixed on the way the orange and purple floodlights on the bandstand lit the haze that floated above the dance floor. She watched the musicians taking the stage. Her mouth was parted slightly, as though she were transfixed by the moment and the promise of the evening and the glitter on the cowboy costumes worn by the zydeco men. She swallowed drily.
Weingart motioned to the waitress. “What are you having?” he said to Tee Jolie.
“Whatever you are.”
“Can your bartender mix a Manhattan?” he said to the waitress.
The waitress looked at the bar and back at Weingart. “I can ax.”
“Can he handle two Diet Cokes?”