Chapter 5: The Pixie, and The One

The highway would lead me to Portland where I could see an old college friend. He was supposedly retired, at the grand old age of forty-four, having made millions in the stock markets, accidentally, then investing his windfall in secure bonds and such that provided him a steady income. A very large steady income. He told me he’d tell me the whole story over a beer at his tavern. He moved from Eugene to Portland when he found it for sale. He lived above it, downtown in a renovated area of the city.

I pulled up in front of the tavern the next evening and backed my bike to the curb. Steven Dingle came running out the door and as I got off the bike, he told me to get back on and go around to the back of the building. He’d explain then.

When I got there, he had opened a garage door and waved me in, having me park next to a really sleek looking Tesla. I’m not that familiar with them, but this was a good-looking car, and was probably a Model S, a luxury sedan. When I got off the bike, he shook my hand and grabbed my arm in a friendly greeting.

“Good to see you, old man! I’m really happy you showed up. Couldn’t be at a worse time, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Bad time?”

“Another outbreak of riots down the street. We’re about four blocks from trouble, but these things grow legs, and get out of hand sometimes. I had a contractor come in and put steel shutters on my big front windows and doors. If I have two minutes warning, I push a button and the front of the building turns into a fortress. I’m disconnected from the neighbors, so as long as the fire department makes it here in ten or fifteen minutes, I’ll even live through a fire there. So, how’s Charlie Adams doing lately?” he asked, changing the subject like it was just another day. For him, evidently, it was.

He pulled me into the tavern from the back, through a storeroom piled high with presumably empty beer kegs and bottle boxes, then through the huge shiny kitchen, then out to the bar. Next to that was a huge dining area with six huge TVs showing everything from soccer to a soap opera with closed captioning running. He saw me looking.

“Lunch crowd. They come in and watch Days of our Lives then go back to work. I guess it’s some sort of yuppie stress reliever or escape mechanism. Bluetooth is enabled on a hub device. Technology. Changes every day. The show doesn’t do a thing for me, at least not since Cloe’s not on much anymore and Nichole changed her hair. Two hot babes there, lemme tell ya. Yabba dabba do. I’d spend a weekend in bed with either of those angels.

“How you doin’, Charlie? Bobbi, baby,” he yelled, can you bring us a couple of mushroom burgers and a couple of Stellas? Thanks, darlin. Is Sandi comin’ in tonight?”

“Yeah, Steve, she is. Six to close.”

“Good. I need to talk to her about her life insurance policy application. Again. It came back. Again.”

“Steve. Take a breath. Relax. Sit still and talk to me. Are you OK? You’re acting like you’ve been popping speed and haven’t slept for three days.”

“I’m really sorry, Charlie.” He chuckled. “I’ve been popping speed and haven’t slept for three days.” He started laughing. “No, really, it’s all good. A bit nervous about the unrest, but the contractor got done a couple of days ago and we tested them, so It should be OK. I should relax, but ... I should relax, you’re right. Wanna go fishing?”

“Of course, I want to go fishing. What kind?”

“Ocean. I bought a boat. It’s out Garibaldi way. Remember Tillamook?” I nodded. “North of there on the 101 a few miles. Nice place and close to the open ocean. Halibut are hitting from what I heard.”

Bobbi brought us each a huge serving of Stella Artois, in gold lipped glasses with the logo on them. It was super cold and super good. I’m a fan of some fancy beers, but they have to be cold. Most don’t like them that way, opting for a bit warmer, in the forty-five to fifty-degree range, but that’s not me. Steve evidently agreed.

He asked about the trip, and I ran the whole thing down, starting with Kim, North Carolina, Kentucky, Las Cruces, Tucson, San Diego, Sunnyvale, the shooting incident, and being turned loose by the district attorney and a cute little elfin creature so cute I couldn’t describe her. I just showed him a picture. The pussy hound bit his finger in a demonstration of awe.

“Ain’t that the truth. Steve, she was a doll. I also met the one in Kentucky, and the little Romanian girl in New Mexico. I’ll tell you, I just don’t understand it, but I’m not going to question it or fight it.”

“You lucky bastard.”

“Steve, my parents were married. But thanks for the sentiment. I feel the same way!” We shared a laugh as Bobbi put burgers and mashed potatoes down for us.” Cool idea. The potatoes were smothered in mushroom gravy. I almost lost a tear, but smiled instead, thinking of Sylvia, and the skunk and mulch.

We talked for a bit, he told me about his new center console boat. How he decided to only get two big motors on it just to keep things simple. He bought it to go fishing, not to race, so it fit his purposes nicely. He told me we could go out Monday, if I could wait that long. That would give us a couple of days to just talk and let me acclimate to the fantastic weather and green surroundings. He had a guest apartment upstairs I was going to stay in so I could come and go as I pleased without bothering him, then a maid service would come in every afternoon and tidy up for me. Pretty cool deal.

“Steve, I’m impressed. Tesla, tavern, boat. How much money do you actually have?”

“Charlie, I don’t know. Tons. It changes every day, but I have three separate portfolios and three separate financial management firms now. I have one accounting firm that deals with all three of them, and from what I’m told, I’m paying for college for five of these peoples’ kids. One of my accountants is a stone-cold fox, but she plays for the other team, so I’m out of bounds. Shame. She’s almost as pretty as Nichole on that stupid show.”

We ate our burgers and potatoes, and while they were quite a good portion, I just had to have something else. I went up to the bar and asked Bobbi if I could have a salad, too. She fixed me up really well, bringing her boss a piece of coffee cake with a bit of ice cream on it.

“House specialty, Charlie. Try some before you leave. It doesn’t NEED the ice cream, but I love the stuff. It’s a recipe I got from my great aunt out in New Hampshire before we lost her. I’ve been making this wonder since I got out of college. My cook watched me do up a couple of them here, tasted it, and put it on the menu. We have people stopping in for this cake on its own. Most get an evening cocktail like a Bailey’s and coffee or something with it, but it’s pretty well known around these parts.”

We sat and talked, sipping a few different beers he thought I might like. Most were a bit bitter for me, but a couple of the lighter ones weren’t bad. I didn’t keep track of the names, since I’d never go out of my way to buy any. He didn’t need to know that. He was trying really hard to be a great host. He was succeeding in every way, too.

A little redhead came in through the back door, getting my attention. I looked over and couldn’t stop staring. “Charlie, stop. That’s my night manager. Sandi Tucker. Hands off, man!” he laughed. “Sandi, can you come over here for a minute?”

“Right there,” she yelled. Her voice was that of an angel. She talked to Bobbi for a minute while she was doing something on the computer system, then she made herself a soda, I think, and came over to talk to Steve. “What’s up, Steve?”

“Your life insurance application came back again. No such person. Deceased.”

“Fuck it. Put Bobbi’s name and information on it and send it back. It’s not worth the trouble. Just don’t tell her.” She walked away.

“Her mother came back deceased, then her brother, and now her father. She hasn’t had any contact with any of them for years, ran away from all of them as a very young girl, but has to put something down. Bobbi it is!”

“What’s that,” Bobbi asked.

“Nothing, babe. Just telling Charlie who runs the joint.” She laughed out loud, Sandi giggled a really cute giggle, and Steve chuckled. “Good save, Steve,” he said, obviously talking to himself.

Later that night, I was sitting at the bar, the place was hopping, and I didn’t want to take up much retail rack space, so to speak.

“So, what’s your story, mister? Steve seems to think you’re a nice guy. Any truth to that?”

“Depends on who you talk to, I guess. My former girlfriend not so much. Most everyone else I know might give me a quarter to make a call.”

“Payphone? Do they still even have those?” She giggled and I chuckled, quietly so I could hear her giggle. This was an extremely attractive girl. I knew. I’d been around some lately, and this one was at the top of the pile.

“I think so. I haven’t needed one. I lose phones, but not charging cables. It’s weird. That’s weird. Why would I even say that. I’m not a stalker or a prevert, or anything like that, Sandi, but what’s a beautiful girl like you doing in a place like Steve’s Little Olde English Tavern here? You could be a model or be on TV in a heartbeat.”

“I’m sure. With an eleventh-grade education and not twenty extra dollars to my name. I doubt it. Thank you for the comment, but ... I was in a really bad place. I ran. I wound up in a shelter for a year, then when Steve bought this place, I came in and explained my situation. He loves raw abject honesty. He hired me on the spot, I worked my way up, and now, although it’s just a glorified bartending job, I’m called the night manager. It basically means his insurance won’t lapse for leaving the place unmanaged if he runs off to Cabo with one of his bimbos. They frown on not having responsible managers on the payroll.”

“And you know that. Eleventh-grade education, huh? I call bullshit. I’ll bet you’ve learned more in here, working and living your life, than any high school senior and most college freshmen in the state. Don’t sell yourself short. Ever thought about finishing?”

“Sure. I have a GED and an Associates in Hospitality Management. I also have two bartending certificates from two different seminars I’ve attended. You wouldn’t believe what some people drink. I was talking about then. I wouldn’t leave this job now if they offered me the primetime anchor slot at KPTV.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I’m glad Steve found you, or you found Steve, however you look at it.”

“Semantics. I used him to save myself, so it doesn’t really matter. We both played a huge part. You changed the subject on me. Think about that. I’ll be right back.” She set one of the waitresses up with a round, then pushed a couple of beers across the bar and came back. “Now what was this about a former girlfriend?”

“Oh, that. I got dumped. I ran away and have been finding reasons to be glad she dumped me.”

“Why?” I cocked my head at her question. “Sorry, why did she dump you?”

“That, young lady, is the question. The sixty-four-thousand-dollar question as they used to say on that game show. I don’t know. She never said. She was there, then she wasn’t. People have had contact with her, but I wasn’t one of those people.”

“Money. I’ll betcha. What do you do?” Again, I cocked my head. “For a living. What do you do for a living?”

“Oh! Nothing, now. Retired from the Air Force. I used to manage a factory, but they closed it and sent the machines and people who wanted to go with them to Chicago. I’m not even remotely interested in Chicago. Then two weeks later Kim disappears, and I just bailed.” I told her about the trip, and each of the girls, including some of the excitement, and let her ponder all that.

“Don’t move.” I stayed while she filled some drink orders and made the requisite entries into the register. When she came back, she asked, “How much money do you have?” I shook my head.

“How much do you weigh?”

“Oh! God! Right. Personal question. Improper as all hell. Got it. Not very much, by the way. I’ll try it again, this way. Did SHE know how much money you had?” I shook my head. “She left you chasing the almighty dollar, Mr. Adams. I’m not going to assume anything, but you look well fed. You probably have some nest egg coin stashed somewhere to keep from having to eat store brand Alpo and dandelions with your ramens when you’re old and withered, right?” I nodded. “If she had known that, she may still be with you. Pride yourself that she’s not. If you are a friend of Steve’s, you’re better than that. Steve does not tolerate users, losers or posers. I’ve seen him ask his ‘friends’ to leave here before. They want his money, not his friendship. He has a very low give a shit factor with those people. Where were we? Oh, yeah. Good riddance. Now, tell me about Mr. Adams.”

“Charlie, Sandi. Just call me Charlie, for now.”

“OK, Charlie, tell me about Charlie Adams.” We talked for a bit about my past, which was pretty vanilla if I leave the part about being on loan to the Agency out of the story. I shared a little more about the trip, and how the women treated me, making me think maybe I wasn’t a troll.

I was even able to ask her about some things in her past. She hesitantly came clean. She warned me that Steve was the only one there that knew the real story. The oldest of her two older brothers raped her when she was sixteen, and the family, both parents and the other brother, tried to sweep it under the rug. She went to the police, got the twenty-one-year-old man sent to prison, and was beaten by both her father and her brother at two different times. Her mother refused to help her. She went to a battered women’s shelter, called the police, and was emancipated as soon as Steve hired her and signed off as her employer.

Then she surprised me. “Charlie, before I spewed forth the filth that is my past, I said that Steve was the only one that knew. That was because he warned me that raw, unfiltered honesty was the only way to fly if you wanted to stay in the air. I have no idea why I just shared that with you. A couple of shrinks, the police, Steve, and you know my story. Why did I just do that? I don’t know you from Adams.” She giggled again.

“You have the cutest giggle. God, I’m such a troll. Do you have any idea how pretty you are?”

She nodded. “I have been told that a minimum of once a week for the last three or four years, but it never made me feel the way it did just now. Explain that, Mr. Adams, or I’ll have you thrown out on your ear.”

“I really don’t know, but I’ve met three absolutely amazing women, before you, on this trip. I have a thing for redheaded beauty. All three met that description and more, yet I’m sitting here looking at you, knowing that you are the prettiest of the bunch. Yes, I will call each of them and tell them that if you want me to.”

“Call the first one. Maureen, was it? It’s only seven. It’s nine in Kentucky. Call her and hand me the phone.”

I was acting all macho, sure, but in reality, I was a bit scared of how Maureen would react. “Maureen, this is Charlie. I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m in Portland, Oregon, sitting at a bar a friend of mine owns and telling the bartender how I met three beautiful women that treated me famously, taught me how to be a gentleman, and that she’s probably better looking than any of you. She wants to talk to you.”

“Charlie, take a picture of her and send it to me then hand her the phone.”

I pressed the necessary buttons at the necessary times and sent it, then handed Sandi the phone.

“This is Sandi Tucker. Are you really Maureen, in Kentucky? (Pause.) I am? (Pause.) Jesus H. Christ. I’m not conceited, but I know I’m not ugly.” (Pause.) She read off a bunch of numbers and I didn’t think fast enough to catch them. “Thank you. What do you think of him? (Pause.) You’re kidding. (Pause.) No! (Pause.) Shut up! Really? (Pause.) Holy crap! Seriously? (Pause.) Thank you. I might just do that. He’s a friend of my boss’s and Steve thinks of him as a close friend. Steve’s pretty well off and doesn’t have many real friends. Most of them just want to use him. (Pause.) I’ll keep that in mind, Maureen. Thank you again. It was really nice talking to you. (Pause.) It was kind of on a dare. I’m glad you took it OK. (Pause.) You’ve got it. Here he is.” She pulled her phone out as she handed mine to me. “Good God, almighty,” she said, looking down at it.

It was good to hear Maureen’s voice again. “I love her voice, Charlie. She sounds like a sweetheart. She’d probably make your kids’ hair turn red, wouldn’t she?”

“Very red, Maureen.” I looked at Sandi. She noticed. “They’d be gorgeous, too.” Sandi grinned and shook her head. “Thank you for taking the call. How’s Maureen doing?” We talked for a bit then signed off, her wishing me good luck and telling me to stay safe on my scooter. When I put the phone down, Sandi came back toward me from helping a customer. “Well?”

“She says she can’t and won’t confirm your theory about the other two since she hasn’t met them, but she says I’m definitely prettier than her. She sent me a picture, Charlie. She’s as full of shit as you are. She’s a beautiful woman. I’m just a girl compared to her.”

“She’s only twenty-four, Sandi. She just looks a bit older. You’re what twenty, twenty-one?”

“Twenty-one, just this June.”

“You are both beautiful. Maybe what I see is you being cuter than her. Hell, as you said, semantics. You are a pretty girl. Enough. Do you date?”

“I do now.” She giggled and walked away to the waitress stand. When she returned, she asked, “Were you inquiring for yourself, or for a friend. I’m not interested in any of your friends.”

“Definitely for myself. Definitely.” We shared a smile. Gorgeous girl.

“A movie and late lunch tomorrow before I come in? Would that be a date?”

“I think a meal and a movie is what Webster has listed, so I’m all in. Come get me? I’m staying upstairs.”

“I know. Yes, no matter what happens here tonight, I’ll pick you up at about eleven-thirty tomorrow morning. The shows start around noon or noon-thirty. We’ll play it by ear, if that’s OK with you.”

“I’m already all in. Just flip the cards, hon.” She grinned and went back to work.

Our only issue was transportation, but she put the stops to that very quickly. She didn’t own a car and didn’t have a helmet. She didn’t want to wear one on our first date. She wanted to ride the bus like she normally does. I thought that would be fun, so I agreed. When I left to go up to bed at midnight, she pulled me back to the stairs.

“Maureen says you are special. You have a chance to prove that to me. In the meantime, take this and go to bed.” She pulled me down by my upper arms and kissed my cheek. “I’ll be back for you in the morning. The Tavern serves a late breakfast or early lunch, again, semantics, so eat. We’ll do a movie, then eat a bit later. OK?” I nodded. “Goodnight.” She kissed me again, then went back to work. I watched her leave. Uncanny beauty. The fourth time in two months I have been graced with this level of beauty. Uncanny luck.

It took a few minutes to get ready for bed then when I laid down, I went back through the trip. I thought about each stop, each of the girls, my friends, the bar in Tucson with Phyllis and Mary, and about the rest of the trip. I was headed to Spokane, then Rapid City, two more friends, then back home. I had to do something about my stuff, and about my truck. I also had to do something about my life.

I didn’t need to work, but I needed to stay busy. I could live off my Air Force retirement check, but not high off the hog as they say. The cool million I have in savings and investments would contribute with interest and dividend payouts and such if I needed it, and I could always hit the capital, but I didn’t really want to. Not until I got into my sixties or found a house or property I just had to have. I considered all my options for about seventeen more seconds then I was out for the count and didn’t wake until eight-thirty. A little late, even for me.

I got myself cleaned up and dressed, then stumbled downstairs where I saw Steve and Bobbi sitting, each with a cup of coffee.

“Who do I have to bribe to get a mug of that life support juice?”

“What additives do you require, Master Charles?”

“Stick your finger in it and stir. I’m sure that will be just fine, Miss Bobbi.” That got me a giggle from her, and a light laugh from Steve. “Just one sugar, hon. Thanks. I can get it if you’ll...”

“No, have a seat. You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“You picky?

“Not at all.”

“The breakfast special it is!”

“Why am I questioning my judgment right now?”

“Don’t. You’ll be fine. If not, I’ll eat it and you can go somewhere else.” She laughed and went to the kitchen.

“How’s Charlie this morning? I hope you slept well.”

“Like a log. That’s a really nice mattress, if not a bit short.”

“If you visit more often, I will buy one of those in that long king thing, but it will make the room a bit smaller, if you get that. You are my tallest friend, friend, hence the queen size mattress.”

“Don’t change it for me. I like it, and I can sleep crooked. I slept very well on it.”

“Would you like the entertainment section of the morning paper, Casanova?”

“What did you hear?”

“A movie and lunch with a certain pixie in my employ.”

“Word gets around.”

“It’s a small tavern.”

“Are you OK with it?”

“I’m fine with it. She’ll have some fun, you’ll have some fun, she’ll come back to work, you’ll go back to Missouri, and all will be well with the world. Then, when you come back, because you love that bed so much, you can do it all over again. I’m OK with it. Just let her know about the ground rules so no one gets hurt.”

“Will do.” Our eyes met in an honest agreement. He was worried about his employee. I think he might have been worried about his friend, as well. He knew about Kim, and the other girls, and, well, all of it. Bobbi sat the coffee down in front of me. The mug was probably about twenty to twenty-four ounces, a big one, and I surely appreciated it. I tasted it. “Oh, Bobbi, this is wonderful. You didn’t burn your finger, did you?” She giggled as she walked away shaking her head.

We sat quietly, watching the news for a few minutes when Bobbi came back with a platter. Scrambled eggs, probably three or four of them, sausage AND bacon, and a couple slices of what appeared to be very thick sourdough toast.

“Bobbi, are you sure I didn’t ask for this, specifically, because, it’s probably what I would have ordered, had someone asked? Thank you. Really. Are you the one responsible...” She interrupted me.

“Yes, Charlie. Cookie doesn’t get here until nine, and we don’t serve the public until ten. This is all Bobbi, all the time.”

“You are a treasure. Thank you.”

I swear, someone was looking down on me and taking care of my worthless ass. And the rest of me, based on what was in front of me.

“Eat. You have an hour and a half until your princess arrives. Use your time wisely. Wills, Powers of Attorney, whatever is needed.” She laughed and walked out.

“I love that woman to death. She’s probably the only reason I get out of bed some mornings.”

“You and Bobbi? Really?” He nodded. “Cool. She’s a neat lady. Congratulations.”

“Don’t congratulate me yet. She won’t say yes. At least not yet. I’ve asked three times, under three different sets of circumstances, but she’s a tough one.”

“Probably waiting to marry for money. That’s what Sandi told me Kim was probably doing.” We both got a laugh out of that and I dug in.

I was catching up on emails and a couple of Harley forums when my princess walked in. She was so strikingly attractive, she lit up the room. She was sporting a tight little button up waist length top, short shorts, and high heeled sandals, everything in baby blue.

“Hi, Steve. Bobbi. Good morning, Charlie. Come on, let’s go catch a bus.” She reached out for my hand and pulled me toward the door as she waved to the others. “Are you going to say anything, Charlie?”

“I have been dumbfounded, Sandi. Found dumb. Unable to speak. You are remarkable. You’re gorgeous. You’re pretty. Good morning, beautiful. Let’s go to the movies.”

“Much better, and thank you. I was hoping you’d like it.”

“Like is a very weak word.” She giggled at my comment.

The movie she picked was a typical romantic comedy, but it was good. Not silly, like some of them, and the humor was real, not slapstick like in some of them. It also ended well. She hugged my arm to her while the credits rolled, waiting for the place to clear out a bit.

She stood, took my hand and pulled me up, then hugged me. “Thank you. Really. Thank you. We need to talk ground rules then make some plans over lunch. I really want to do this some more. I like you.”

“Thank you. The feeling is mutual.” I held her hand as we walked out of the theater, down the carpeted halls, and toward the main entrance. “My only ground rule is that I’m heading out one of these days and going back to figure out my life. I have a truck, some stuff, a bunch of guns, and a lot of questions. I figure you don’t want anything major to happen either, since you said you wouldn’t leave this job for that anchor position on Fox Twelve.”

“OK, so much for talking about ground rules over lunch. Maybe just plans for the next few days, then. I’m off Tuesday and Wednesday. You are going fishing with Steve and another guy on Monday. If I can keep you occupied, maybe you can wait until Saturday or Sunday to leave.”

“I guess we can talk about our childhood pets and such over lunch, then. Sounds like the rules and the plans are pretty well taken care of.” She laughed and we swung our arms like youngsters all the way out to the bus stop by the mall. “Sandi, let’s go back in and walk the mall for a bit. I’m not really hungry yet and you have some time before you have to be at work, don’t you?” She nodded.

So, we did that. Hand in hand, and once with her arm around my back, thumb in a belt loop and mine over her shoulder, pulling her to my side every so often to steer to a window to look at something or down an aisle to see if something might be there, we cruised much of the mall. Neither of us found anything we wanted to buy right then, but when we passed a jewelry store, I noticed a really nice emerald earring and necklace set in the window. Just to the right of it were a few engagement rings. Stylish, not gaudy, with the stones well presented. I saw her head turn that direction for several seconds, then back to the emeralds, then back to the engagement rings.

“They’re beautiful, Charlie. I love emeralds. Topaz and emeralds. My favorites. Diamonds may be a girl’s best friend, but topaz and emeralds are more affordable on a bartender’s budget. Come on, let’s go. Yes, that’s a pretty set. Let’s go into Spencer’s and look around, then I ought to head to work. If I’m not really early, Bobbi will send the hounds out looking for me.”

We did, laughed at a few of the sex toys, saw some pretty raunchy party games, and some gaudy home furnishings, made for wild people, then took off, ate a late lunch right there in the mall at a Ruby Tuesday’s then caught the next bus for the tavern. She knew the routes pretty well. I don’t think we waited for more than five minutes for any of the buses we took.

“Hey, y’all, we’re back and I’m still alive. He may not be the axe murderer after all, Bobbi,” she said in a rather loud voice as we walked through the kitchen door into the bar area.

“I didn’t say he was one, Sandi, I said he might be one.” They both got a kick out of that for some reason. Steve was at the end of the bar reading a magazine about fishing. He shook his head and had another spoonful of whatever he was dishing out of a bowl.

“Bobbi,” he said to her, “can you get Charlie a bowl of this to try. Just a little if he says he isn’t hungry. I need his opinion.” I held my thumb and forefinger up to indicate I just wanted a little.

She nodded, went in the back as Sandi was clocking in, and came back out with a small bowl of what had to be a version of white chili. I took a taste. Good. I took another. Better. The third bite had given the first two enough time to attack all the appropriate senses with flavor bombs and just a bit of heat. Pepper heat. Had to have been jalapeños and serranos, because it was just enough, without being overbearing. Nothing worse than too much heat in a dish. It detracts from the flavor. The essence.

“If you serve spicy, yet not too spicy foods, and if you serve out of the box chili style tureen products, and if this isn’t on the menu, I think it should be. It would be a management decision as to if it will go over well with the natives, Steve, my man, but this is some good stuff. Using pork instead of chicken was brilliant. Using fire grilled pork instead of roasted, might also have something to do with it. It’s really good.”

“You’d order it if you knew it was here?”

“In a heartbeat. We may test that theory, old buddy! I’ll drive up here from Missouri for a bowl if you’ll let Sandi go out with me again. If she says no, I’d be too embarrassed to show up in her presence, but I’d stay long enough for the soup if she was off, or something like that. Did that make any sense?”