S Is for Silence

that?”
    “You’re a stud. I can tell by looking at you.”
    Tom laughed, embarrassed. “Well, I appreciate your confidence. I’m not sure Cora would agree.”
    “I’m serious. How long have we been talking like this? How many times we been in here dancing and clowning around? But you never make a move. What’s that all about?”
    “I can’t believe you’d criticize me when I’m the only guy in town who’s not trying to get in your pants. You know why that is? I’ll tell you why. I’m more interested in this,” he said, tapping his head. “Sure, we could take a tumble in the hay. And then what? You’d move on to someone else. I’d rather be your friend.”
    “Oh, please.”
    “You know what grieves me? To see a mind like yours go to waste. You’re so busy fending off that psychopath you’re married to you don’t have the time or energy to do anything else. Why don’t you use your brain for a change and get away from the guy.”
    “I don’t know. Foley’s kind of sweet in his way.”
    “That’s poppycock and you know it. You can’t let emotion rule you in these things. You gotta be hard-nosed.”
    “But I’m not.”
    “Call it practical if you like. Look at me and Cora. There’s nothing wrong with her. I admire the woman, but what good is that? The marriage is dead. She knows it as well as I do, but you want to know what happens if I ask for a divorce? I’ll be out on my ass. Same thing with you. You can walk away, but all you’ll take with you are the clothes on your back.”
    “That doesn’t mean anything. If I could get free, I’d be willing to leave it all behind. Who cares about possessions? Anything I have can be replaced. I got money of my own.”
    “You just can’t get off that, can you?”
    “You’re the one brought up money.”
    “Now you sound just like Cora.”
    “Anyway, what the hell do you have to complain about? You got that big house and those cars. You know what I’d give to have a car like yours?”
    “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Violet. Four thousand for a car? That’s chump change. You’re out there with your head down, hunting for pennies on the ground. You gotta look at the bigger picture.”
    “You paid four thousand dollars for a car? You can’t be serious.”
    “See, that’s what’s wrong with you. You think small. You think if you keep a real-tight hold on your money you can keep the dollar bills from flying away. Doesn’t work like that. You gotta loosen up. Put your money to work. Okay, so you got what in the bank, twenty?”
    Violet jerked her thumb up, indicating more.
    “Thirty-five?”
    “Fifty,” she said.
    “That’s good. Great, but every day it sits, you’re losing money on your money—”
    She cut him off. “Nun-hun. I know what you’re getting at and it’s no deal.”
    “You have no idea what I’m getting at so would you listen for a change? I’m saying we pool our funds.”
    “Oh, sure, pool our funds. I bet you’d like that. You know why? Because I got more than you.”
    “I got money.”
    “How much?”
    He tilted his head, calculating. “I’ll be honest with you. I got a lot, but not as much as you. That’s what I’m working on right now.”
    “Super. I’m thrilled on your behalf. I’m still not giving you a dime.”
    “That’s what I like about you. You’re stubborn as hell. Tell you what, though, you change your mind, all you have to do is say the word.”
    “Don’t hold your breath.”

16
    I arrived at the Blue Moon that night in advance of Tannie and Daisy. It was 6:45 and the whole of Serena Station was bathed in golden light. The air smelled of bay laurel, the scent underscored by the faint suggestion of wood smoke. In the absence of a visible autumn, Californians are forced to fabricate, stockpiling wood for the fireplace, hauling heavy sweaters out of the bottom drawer. Many residents live in exile; eastern-seaboard and midwestern transplants who end up on the West Coast in search of good weather. No more ice storms, no 108-degree days, no tornadoes, and no hurricanes. First comes relief at being delivered from bugs, humidity, and climatic extremes. Then the boredom sets in. Soon they’re making nostalgic trips home at considerable expense to revisit the very elements they’d sought to escape.
    The patron parking lot was full and cars were lined up along the road. I made one circuit of the lot, found a small, probably illegal spot and managed to squeeze in. As I made my