Sunrise Point

braced on the table, her paper and coffee in front of her. She was dozing.
    “Maxie?” he said.
    She jerked awake. “Oh!” Then she smiled. “Morning, Nora.” And she yawned. “Good grief.”
    “Oh, you’re tired,” Nora said. “Let’s go get coffee going in the office.”
    “You okay, Maxie?” he asked.
    “Fine,” she said. “I think I didn’t sleep well the last couple of nights or something. So—are we having coffee?” She sipped hers and made a face. “Mine has gone cold.”
    “Let me fix that up for you,” Nora said, taking her cup. She dumped it, dressed a new, hot one with cream and sugar while she fixed her own, then sat down at the table. “Tom has promised to tell me about his weekend.”
    “That should be interesting—he hasn’t really told me,” Maxie said.
    Tom cleared his throat. “You were here,” he said, pouring his own coffee.
    “Yes, and I’m not sure if we had a good time or not.”
    “We had a great time. Darla’s a city girl, a businesswoman. She loved the orchard, the redwoods, the coast. She just couldn’t appreciate our country lifestyle, I think. You know what I mean—not the type to get real excited about country-fried steak and gravy. But she wants to come back.”
    “She does?” Maxie asked.
    “She does,” he confirmed, narrowing his eyes at Maxie, trusting her not to carp about the strange appetite, the many outfit changes, the fact that Darla never got out of her chair to help with dishes.
    “How wonderful.” Maxie looked at Nora. “She’s a very beautiful and successful woman. Widowed.”
    “So I heard,” Nora said. “Her husband served with Tom, right?”
    “What was her husband like?” Maxie asked Tom.
    “A good guy,” Tom said.
    “Oh, now I could pick him out of a crowd,” his grandmother said.
    “He worked for me,” Tom said. “You can’t usually get real cozy with the men you command, but he was a sergeant and his boys would walk into hell for him. In the end, he walked into hell for them—he lost his life saving others. But let me tell you this—he was loyal, smart, brave…and he had a great sense of humor. When he wasn’t driving them hard for their safety and survival, he was making his boys laugh. Sometimes he thought rules were stupid and sometimes I agreed. He didn’t exactly cross the line, but man,” he said, laughing and giving his head a shake. “He ran right up to it—he was an edgy guy. He had common sense and terrific instincts. Unafraid. He didn’t talk about Darla too much, at least not with me. But then, we were kind of busy.”
    Nora was in a trance, listening. “Busy,” she repeated. Though he hadn’t said, what she imagined he meant was that they were under fire. She tried to shake that off—he was home safe now. So she asked, “What’s Darla like?”
    “Like?” he asked, frowning. “Nice.”
    Maxie and Nora exchanged looks. Maxie lifted her brows.
    “Okay, she’s very smart and sells drugs for a pharmaceutical company,” Tom said. “She has to travel a lot. She seems to like clothes and I think she must make good money. And she… She watches her weight.”
    Nora laughed and shook her head. “Men,” she said in exasperation. “So—what does she like to do for fun? Does she hike or surf or go duck hunting? Or does she play chess, or read or paint? Is she kind to animals? What are her big goals and what are her impossible dreams? Does she have religion, speak more than one language, cook, bake, sew? Is she on Facebook? Does she tweet? Would she like to have children, and would she rather be a working mother or stay-at-home mom? Who is her best friend, and worst enemy? Who is her idol? When she lists her five most important things, what are they? And what are the three things she’s most grateful for? And if she could have dinner with any famous person, dead or alive, who would it be?”
    When she finished, both Maxie and Tom were staring at her, openmouthed.
    “Nora, I can’t answer those questions about myself,” Tom said.
    “I can answer four or five of them,” Maxie said. “The orchard is important—my second priority after family, who is Tom. I bake and work out walking the orchard and I think canning, baking, cooking and cleaning this big house qualify as much as exercise. I was a working mother and grandmother and hope to be a working great-grandmother. I’m on Facebook—”
    “You’re on Facebook? ” Tom asked, shocked.
    “A little thing for me and my