Tapestry of Fortunes A Novel - By Elizabeth Berg Page 0,59
not a chain, or at least none of us have ever heard of it. There are roosters everywhere: an exuberant one on top of the restaurant with his wings unfurled and his open beak pointed skyward, figurines along the windowsills, even the wallpaper features roosters. The place is called Doodle Doo’s, and I think if you were having a bad day and a friend called and said “Do you want to go and get some eggs at Doodle Doo’s?” a lot of that bad energy would immediately disappear.
When we sit at the booth and are handed menus, it takes Renie one second to decide. “I’m getting the Long Haul,” she says.
I read the description: three eggs, three strips of bacon, three sausages, two biscuits and gravy, grits, large orange juice, and a bottomless cup of coffee.
“Order the same thing for me,” Lise says, and heads off to the bathroom.
“Did she say to order the same thing for her?” Renie asks.
“Maybe she doesn’t know what you got,” I say. “She was in a big hurry to get to the bathroom.”
“I’ll bet she’s going to email him,” Renie says. Then, to me, she says, “While you were on the phone, she checked her email and there was one from him but she wouldn’t tell us what he said.”
The waitress, a tired-looking brunette with a thin ponytail and the smallest waist I’ve seen since Dolly Parton, takes our order and then we take turns guessing whether or not what he said was romantic, sexual, or funny.
“Funny is best,” Renie says, and Joni says, “Yeah, but she didn’t laugh. Or share it with us. So I think it was romantic. And you know what? I hope she lets whatever might happen, happen. I hope she won’t let Sandy dictate what she should do.”
“Sandy’s just scared of getting hurt again, don’t you think?” I say. “We were talking about it last night and Lise wondered if she and Steve had changed enough to give it another go, or if it might mess things up even more with Sandy. There’d be an awful lot of pressure on them to succeed.”
“Too bad you didn’t bring your box,” Joni says, and I look over at her, smiling.
“Really?” she says. “You brought it?”
“I brought my favorite deck of cards. Just in case.”
“Let’s do them tonight!” Joni says. “There’s something I want an opinion on.”
“Lise should have a secret relationship with Steve for a while,” Renie says. “Seems to me it’s started already.”
When Lise slides back into the booth, Joni says, “So?”
“What?” Lise’s eyes are big.
“Oh, come on, tell us.”
She smiles, then pulls out her phone, calls up the message, and reads it to us: “It seems to me that you still have that same way about you, a sweetness, a kindness, and a vulnerability, but also a chronic and tightfisted resistance to things that might in fact be very good for you. My goal, if I may have one as pertains to you, is to convince you that I still want all of you, and think maybe we can rebuild a life together. I know how important it is for us to regain trust. I suppose some may find it miraculous that my feelings for you remain, especially when you made it so painfully clear all those years ago that you were not in the least bit interested in staying married to me. I confess it surprised me, the force with which so many things came back as soon as I saw your face. But you and I both know there’s more to the human heart than anatomy and physiology taught us. Tell me honestly how you’re feeling today, after a night that went a lot better than I think either of us suspected it would. Know that whatever you tell me is safe with me. Know, too, that I have no intention of moving back to Minneapolis this afternoon. But a visit soon with a walk around the lake might be nice. We always did like that.”
“Wow,” Renie says. “What’d you say back?”
She shrugs. “I said, ‘Come.’ ”
The waitress bangs down our platters, and Lise looks at hers and says, “I ordered this?”
“You did,” Renie says, her mouth already full.
“The biscuits and gravy are actually really good,” Joni says.
Lise dives in. “I owe you,” she tells me.
“For eating this?”
“For thinking of this trip.”
“Oh. You’re welcome.”
“Don’t you guys ever tell him I read you his email,” Lise says.