Death by the Riverside by J. M. Redmann; Jean M. Redmann Page B

happier making her laugh than making her scared. “Now, that would be worth all this,” she added.
    “Sorry,” I said, thinking of the bruises that I must have given her. “I don’t really like tackling people in the dark.”
    “Oh, I didn’t even mean that. I just meant my two years on this job. Milo can be a real pain in the neck.” She signaled the waiter for another round. “So what do you think he’s into?” she continued.
    “Kinky, very kinky.”
    “I almost hope it is porn. I’ll get my thrill of the…year,” she said in that slightly disparaging voice used by women who don’t think they’re quite pretty enough.
    “Of the year? I don’t believe that.” I didn’t. Women with the kind of eyes Barbara Selby had should have no problem with being unwillingly celibate.
    “Believe it. It’s true.” The waiter brought us our drinks. “I’m on the wrong side of forty, size fourteen, and I’ve got two kids. Men may tell you they’re interested in your mind, but only if you’ve got a body like yours to go with it.” There was no bitterness in her voice, just a shrug and acceptance. Barbara struck me as one of those people who get on with life as best they can, no matter what it throws at them.
    “But you have beautiful eyes,” I blurted out, “like a horse that knows so much more than the rider she’s stuck with. That’s a compliment, although it may not sound like one. Brown and so deep you could fall into them.” That was a line Danny had used on me that summer we had been lovers. I stole it because it said what I meant better than I could.
    She laughed an embarrassed laugh, like I had that summer. “Thank you. Give an old lady some vicarious thrills. Tell me about all the men you have panting after you.”
    “Me?” I was too tall, too dark, and had hair that went in every direction but fashionable. I had always been left on the sidelines at school dances. Aunt Greta thinks I became a lesbian because there was no one to dance with me in high school.
    “Yes, you. Now that you’ve embarrassed me about my dirt brown eyes, I need something to embarrass you about. You must have a boyfriend.”
    “No.”
    “In between?”
    “Sort of.” The devil and the deep blue sea.
    “So tell me the details of your last affair. The hot gossip among my friends concerns Little League coaches and PTA presidents. Not together.” I sat still. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Am I mucking about in something that you’re not interested in taking lightly?” She looked very concerned, mistaking my silence for a broken heart. “Why did he leave you?” she asked kindly. “Or should we just not talk about it?”
    It was too much. I had to burst out laughing. I was remembering why he had left me. It was back in sixth grade. This only caused Barbara to look more concerned. Maybe I had gone crazy.
    “Do you really want to know?” I asked, controlling myself.
    “Yes.”
    “All right. I was too tall. Tommy Jerod had asked me to go steady with him when school began. But when we showed up on the first day, I had grown five inches and he hadn’t. He told me I was too tall.”
    “When was this?” She was beginning to catch on.
    “Sixth grade.”
    “Oh.” There was a pause. “I doubt you’re a nun. What does that leave?”
    “Want to find out?” I didn’t think she did, but I didn’t think a proposition would do Barbara’s ego any harm.
    She looked at me over her sliding glasses, gave a dry chuckle, then said, “I’m at the age that if I thought you might be serious, I might take you up on it.”
    “If I thought you might take me up on it, I could get serious,” I replied.
    “Well, this has certainly been an interesting evening,” she said, backing off a little. The next step would have been yes or no. I wasn’t sure either of us was ready for that.
    “You’re a brave person, Ms. Selby. Most women would have called in the Marine Corps by now.”
    “Why?” She looked genuinely