Celeste came into the kitchen from the dining room. "Danny's here, alone," she said to Tony.
"One calamari with penne," Loretta went on, reciting. When it was busy, she just left the two cooks her orders in writing, but when there was almost no one in Avellino, Loretta seemed to enjoy the drama of an out-loud presentation.
"The table of four doesn't want any first courses?" Greg asked her.
"They all want the arugula salad with the shaved Parmesan," Loretta said. "You'll love this one." She paused for the full effect. "One chicken paillard, but hold the capers."
"Christ," Greg said. "A sauce grenobloise is all about the capers."
"Just give the bozo the red-wine reduction with rosemary--it's as good on the chicken as it is on the braised beef," Tony Angel said.
"It'll turn the chicken purple, Tony," his sous chef complained.
"You're such a purist, Greg," the cook said. "Then give the bozo the paillard with a little olive oil and lemon."
"Danny says to surprise him," Celeste told Tony. She was watching the cook closely. She'd heard him cry in his sleep, too.
"Well, that will be fun,"
the cook said. (Finally, there's a smile--albeit a small one--Celeste was thinking.)
MAY WAS A TALKATIVE PASSENGER. While Dot drove--her head nodding, but usually not in rhythm to whatever junk was playing on the radio--May read most of the road signs out loud, the way children who've only recently learned to read sometimes do.
"Bellows Falls," May had announced, as they'd passed that exit on I-91--maybe fifteen or more minutes ago. "Who would want to live in Bellows Falls?"
"You been there?" Dot asked her old friend.
"Nope. It just sounds awful," May said.
"It's beginnin' to look like suppertime, isn't it?" Dot asked.
"I could eat a little somethin'," May admitted.
"Like what?" Dot asked.
"Oh, just half a bear or a whole cow, I guess," May said, cackling. Dot cackled with her.
"Even half a cow would hit the spot," Dot more seriously proposed.
"Putney," May read out loud, as they passed the exit sign.
"What kinda name is that, do you suppose? Not Injun, from the sound of it," Dot said.
"Nope. Not Injun," May agreed. The three Brattleboro exits were coming up.
"How 'bout a pizza?" Dot said.
"BRAT-el-burrow," May enunciated with near perfection.
"Definitely not an Injun name!" Dot said, and the two old ladies cackled some more.
"There's gotta be a pizza place in Brattleboro, don'tcha think?" May asked her friend.
"Let's have a look," Dot said. She took the second Brattleboro exit, which brought her onto Main Street.
"The Book Cellar," May read out loud, as they drove slowly past the bookstore on their right.
When they got to the next traffic light, and the steep part of the hill, they could see the marquee for the Latchis Theatre. A couple of the previous year's movies were playing--a Sylvester Stallone double feature, Rocky III and First Blood.