lip prints. The hue had an underlying neon glow that undulated against the white spongy stuff. The fifth was still untouched and filled with cold coffee the color of bark. Even a more-than-healthy serving of cream couldn't make the coffee palatable. Fortunately, the client's taste was a little broader. She seemed to love the stuff.
The coffee suited Louise just fine as did the chair in which she sat. Louise Booker had made herself right at home while Kathleen was still trying to get over the shock of being railroaded by Gerry O'Doul. She had tried to object but Gerry had flown the coop. She could hear Louise in the private office squawking that time was awastin' so Kathleen returned, vowing only to take notes so Gerry could pick up where she left off. After the third hour, Kathleen stopped taking notes and started wondering how she was ever going to stop Louise from talking.
'' Did I tell you how we met?'' She popped another breath mint.
Kathleen shook her head, trying to regroup and keep her eyes from crossing. Her eyes itched. She wanted to rub them but resisted the urge knowing she would only succeed in annihilating the eyeliner on one eye while leaving the other intact. Unfortunately, Louise took that negative little shake and the quick blink of Kathleen's eyes as a sign that she had somehow missed a really important part of her story. Once again, she launched into the saga of Lionel and Louise.
'' We met in college.'' She slipped off a shoe, crossed her ankle over her leg and checked out her pedicure. Her skirt rode up high enough to give the impression it was nothing more than a wide belt. Obviously satisfied she slipped the shoe back on, propped her feet on the chair opposite and gave her Styrofoam cup a kiss before sipping at her sixth cup of coffee. Kissing the lip of the cup before drinking was a sure fire way to keep your lipstick intact according to Louise wisdom. There was enough wisdom to fill volumes. Kathleen was sure she'd heard it all.
'' Well, I wasn't really in college. I was waitressing at What a Dish Pizza just around the corner from where Lionel was living. He used to come in all the time. A cheese man. Simple, you know. I swear, I think of it now, the place where he lived, and I think it really wasn't more than a flop house. But he was a college man. He seemed so romantic. Suffering before conquering the world, you know,'' she waved her hand in the air and Elvis went flying. Mesmerized, Kathleen watched - the pink lips, the pink nails, the blue shaded eyes that never left hers. She had to give Louise credit. She looked you in the eye when she talked.
'' Anyway, I thought it was just damn romantic. This guy with long hair was so pretty. Kind of slim with those hip huggers they used to wear in the sixties. He was like, from another time. I wasn't that old when I met him so that's probably what marred my judgment about Lionel.'' This time the painted Elvis found its way beneath the beehive hair-do and gave her head a little scratch. Kathleen decided this was Louise Booker's equivalent to Pinocchio's nose growing.
'' Mrs. Booker, I think. . . ''
Kathleen's voice seemed to strike a chord. Louise leaned forward. She wasn't about to lose her audience. The nails danced on the wood. Kathleen sat up straighter, her posture even more perfect in defiance of Louise's proposed domination. It didn't help. Louise could talk faster than Kathleen could become indignant.
'' Well, it doesn't matter how old I was, does it? I married him. We did it in a field - I don't mean did it,'' she guffawed at this seemingly hilarious double entdre and Kathleen saw beneath the flamingo pink lips Louise Booker had a charming over-bite. She smiled. A mistake. Louise, egged on by Kathleen's obvious distaste for her humor, charged ahead. ''And don't call me Mrs. Booker. Where was I? Yeah. Okay. I meant we got married in a field. I had this great dress. Spent every last dime I had on it. Figured, what'd I need money for? Lionel was
The coffee suited Louise just fine as did the chair in which she sat. Louise Booker had made herself right at home while Kathleen was still trying to get over the shock of being railroaded by Gerry O'Doul. She had tried to object but Gerry had flown the coop. She could hear Louise in the private office squawking that time was awastin' so Kathleen returned, vowing only to take notes so Gerry could pick up where she left off. After the third hour, Kathleen stopped taking notes and started wondering how she was ever going to stop Louise from talking.
'' Did I tell you how we met?'' She popped another breath mint.
Kathleen shook her head, trying to regroup and keep her eyes from crossing. Her eyes itched. She wanted to rub them but resisted the urge knowing she would only succeed in annihilating the eyeliner on one eye while leaving the other intact. Unfortunately, Louise took that negative little shake and the quick blink of Kathleen's eyes as a sign that she had somehow missed a really important part of her story. Once again, she launched into the saga of Lionel and Louise.
'' We met in college.'' She slipped off a shoe, crossed her ankle over her leg and checked out her pedicure. Her skirt rode up high enough to give the impression it was nothing more than a wide belt. Obviously satisfied she slipped the shoe back on, propped her feet on the chair opposite and gave her Styrofoam cup a kiss before sipping at her sixth cup of coffee. Kissing the lip of the cup before drinking was a sure fire way to keep your lipstick intact according to Louise wisdom. There was enough wisdom to fill volumes. Kathleen was sure she'd heard it all.
'' Well, I wasn't really in college. I was waitressing at What a Dish Pizza just around the corner from where Lionel was living. He used to come in all the time. A cheese man. Simple, you know. I swear, I think of it now, the place where he lived, and I think it really wasn't more than a flop house. But he was a college man. He seemed so romantic. Suffering before conquering the world, you know,'' she waved her hand in the air and Elvis went flying. Mesmerized, Kathleen watched - the pink lips, the pink nails, the blue shaded eyes that never left hers. She had to give Louise credit. She looked you in the eye when she talked.
'' Anyway, I thought it was just damn romantic. This guy with long hair was so pretty. Kind of slim with those hip huggers they used to wear in the sixties. He was like, from another time. I wasn't that old when I met him so that's probably what marred my judgment about Lionel.'' This time the painted Elvis found its way beneath the beehive hair-do and gave her head a little scratch. Kathleen decided this was Louise Booker's equivalent to Pinocchio's nose growing.
'' Mrs. Booker, I think. . . ''
Kathleen's voice seemed to strike a chord. Louise leaned forward. She wasn't about to lose her audience. The nails danced on the wood. Kathleen sat up straighter, her posture even more perfect in defiance of Louise's proposed domination. It didn't help. Louise could talk faster than Kathleen could become indignant.
'' Well, it doesn't matter how old I was, does it? I married him. We did it in a field - I don't mean did it,'' she guffawed at this seemingly hilarious double entdre and Kathleen saw beneath the flamingo pink lips Louise Booker had a charming over-bite. She smiled. A mistake. Louise, egged on by Kathleen's obvious distaste for her humor, charged ahead. ''And don't call me Mrs. Booker. Where was I? Yeah. Okay. I meant we got married in a field. I had this great dress. Spent every last dime I had on it. Figured, what'd I need money for? Lionel was
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