Coffee at Lou's

Jeff stiffened in his seat. He couldn't make out who was holding the gun, not without turning his head all the way around. And he thought it was the better part of valor to stay perfectly still, giving the armed stranger no reason to shoot.

A voice came from outside, muffled by the fine insulation of the car and so. unrecognizable. But the words were simple enough to distinguish.

"Get out of the car. Slowly."

He reached to open the door with his left hand when he heard another command.

"Keep both hands where I can see them."

Turning his upper body, he brought his right hand into view, then opened the door slowly with it, holding his left hand palm forward in a gesture of surrender. He still couldn't see who was holding the pistol, all he had was an image of something red plastered against the small window at the rear of the driver's side. Whoever had the gun had flattened themselves against the car.

One foot left the confines of the driver's area, and as the door swung open more, the other. He ducked his head to stand up as the door opened fully, then stood and looked straight at... the astonished face of Lou Myles.

"Dammit, Jefferson Tracy! What the hell are you doing here?" she cried as she lowered her weapon. She peeled herself away from the car's side, standing straight and, opening her red leather coat, holstered her gun.

Jeff swallowed and, in a voice more like that of his tenor son, Gordon, said, "Paying you a visit?"

Lou shook her head with a "Tch!" and then she sighed. "Why the hell didn't you call?"

Jeff took a breath and let it out slowly, his nerves calming with the exhalation. "I did," he explained, sounding a little more like himself. "This morning. From Atlanta. Got your answering machine."

Lou shook her head again, and smiled slightly. "I've been out all morning," she said. "Haven't been home to hear the messages."

"So I gathered. Tell me," Jeff asked as he ducked back into the car for the keys and came out again. "Do you always greet your friends with such," he gestured in the direction of her shoulder, "enthusiasm?"

"No, not my friends," she said, moving closer to him. "Not when I know they're coming. But when I see an unfamiliar black sports car in my driveway, I'll drive up past the house, get my gun and holster from my truck, come around through the woods, and see who's sitting in that car!" She snorted a breathy chuckle. "I'm sorry if I scared you."

"Scared? Who? Me?" Jeff retorted. "I only thought I was going to need clean pair of pants, that's all!" He broke into a grin and stepped forward to embrace her. "Oh, dammit, Lou. It's so good to see you!"

"It's good to see you, too, Jeff," she said as she returned the squeeze. They separated and her eyes swept up and down his form. "You're looking even better than you did on the vidphone."

"I can say the same for you," he replied, taking stock of her as well. Then he turned his attention to her yard, and her home. "Nice place you've got here. Quiet as all get out."

"It's not a fancy house on a beautiful tropical island, but it suits me," she said. "Quiet, off the beaten track, with neighbors that are friendly and look out for one another despite the distances between houses. The only drawback is hunting season." She took a look around and her eyes lighted on his car. "Why don't you put your hot rod in the garage, and I'll pull my truck into the drive?"

"Well, I was hoping to take you out to lunch...," Jeff began.

Lou groaned. "Oh, I couldn't possibly eat lunch now, Jeff. I just got back from Sunday brunch with a friend. If you're willing to wait until I digest a bit, we could go mid-afternoon. The restaurants won't be as busy with the after church crowds then."

Jeff nodded. "That sounds like a plan. Listen. Why don't I go downtown and get checked into my hotel, then I'll come back around three and we can have lunch then?"

"Hotel?" Lou asked, looking at him askance and shaking her head. "You don't need a hotel. You can stay here. I do have a guest room. It's not as luxurious as I'm sure you're used to, but if you stay here, we'd have more time to talk. What do you think?"

"What would the neighbors say, you entertaining gentlemen at all hours?" Jeff quipped.

"Neighbors? Do you see any neighbors?" Lou asked, spreading out her arms to indicate their surroundings. "My neighbors know I have lots of friends, male and female, that come visit me. The person I'd be most concerned about finding you here would be your mother!"

"My mother isn't here, and what she doesn't know won't hurt her... or me for that matter," Jeff said with a grin.

"So, will you stay?" Lou asked again.

"If I'm not putting you out, sure, I'll stay," Jeff replied. He gave her a sweeping bow. "I am honored to be a guest in your humble abode, Madame."

She lightly smacked his upper arm. "You rogue, you! Go get your bags, while I open up the house. Then pull your car down into the garage, and I'll get my truck." She stepped up to the front door and pressed a button on a small square keypad. Jeff could hear the loud snick of the front door's lock as he stepped back to the car and did something similar to unlock the trunk. He pulled out his bags, and followed her into the house.

His first impression was of being surrounded by cats. A big sleek black one was delicately sniffing his trouser leg on the left, while a fluffy gray and peach one had slipped between his feet and was doing the same to the right one. The scrawny tortie he had seen earlier took one look at him and ran away, stopping a few yards down the hallway to stare back at him with huge yellow eyes. A white cat sat in the wide doorway to his left, ignoring him, unconcernedly preening herself with a licked paw swished over an alert ear.

"Jeff, I'd like to introduce you to Midnight and Moofums, who are finding your trousers so fascinating, Snowball, who could care less, and where...? Oh, there she is. That's Spot, who's not fond of strangers," Lou said, indicating each cat. She opened a door to his right. "Put your things in here, Jeff. One warning; make sure you keep the door closed or the cats will get in and take over the room. I'll clear them out while you settle in." And off she went, calling the cats away and after her with the word, "Treat!"

Jeff put his shoulder bag down on the queen-sized sleigh bed, and hung his garment bag up in the small closet. He looked around the room; it was furnished in what Jeff recognized was an updated version of Louis-Philippe, named after France's last ruling king. The furniture was elegantly simple, done in a light finish. The linens were solids in a variety of dark, saturated hues. He smiled. He could see that anyone would be comfortable in the guest room. He tried to think what kind of furniture she and Greg had decorated their apartment with and had a sudden memory of lots of chrome and mirrors.

Lou poked her head around the corner of the open door and knocked on it. Jeff turned around.

"I'm off to get my truck. The furballs are out on the back porch and I've latched the cat door for the moment. Could you move your car?"

"Oh, sure." Jeff patted his pockets and found the keys. Through the open doorway he could see her keying in a sequence of digits into what he surmised was her alarm system.

"There. The garage door is open and ready for you."

He joined her at the front door, remembering to close the guest room door behind him and they left together, Jeff heading for his rental car, and Lou walking up toward the gravel road. It didn't take long for him to put the car away and lock it, and as he left the garage, his eyes widened at the sight of the truck that was coming his way. It was a double cab version, a huge vehicle, painted in a beigeish tone, with a cap over the pickup bed. Lou brought it to a halt just outside the garage doorway, and rolled down the driver's side window, sticking her head out.

"Is that your truck?" Jeff asked, coming up beside the behemoth. "I was picturing something a tad... smaller."

"Yep, it's mine," Lou said with a grin. "I like the intimidation factor." She pulled her head back in and reached up to push a button. The garage door closed slowly, accompanied by a loud beeping sound. The truck's window went back up, and Lou climbed out of the cab, slamming the door to and locking it by remote control.

"How can you afford the fuel for that?" Jeff asked. "You always impressed me as a conservationist-type."

She waved her hand in dismissal. "That was more Greg than me. Even so, this is a very fuel-efficient model, an electric-gas hybrid." She made a face. "I guess something about Greg rubbed off on me." Looking around, she said, "Let's get inside. The day is clouding up."

They went back in, and Lou put a code of some kind into her alarm keypad again. "There," she said. "The garage is all locked up and safe."

Jeff took a good look at the alarm system. It was unlike any he'd seen. There was a palm print scanner on one side as well as the keypad. She saw him looking at it and smiled. "An inventor friend created it. A miniaturized version of some of the larger, more elaborate systems used in high security spots. It's wireless, battery operated, and if you disable one section of it without a palm print or code, the other parts stay active and after three minutes, put out an alarm to the police. I'm beta testing it for her."

"Hmm. Interesting. Can I have your friend's name and address? If it works, I might be interested in buying the rights," Jeff said thoughtfully.

"Sure. Remind me before you leave," Lou said amiably. "Want some coffee?"

"Sounds good," he said.

She guided him through the wide, arched opening to the living room. "Wait here while I put some on. You'll have to excuse the clutter; it's the price you have to pay for showing up unexpectedly." Then she disappeared again.

Jeff sat on the couch, looking around at her decor choices. The furniture was done in dark brown leather, with Mission style tables to set it off. The computer nook was done in that style as well, with open book cases behind an ergonomic desk. Now I know what I was seeing behind her during that call. Just then he noticed the collage of photo frames on that took up almost all of the opposite wall at eye level, and he moved over to look at it. There were a lot of pictures of Lou with a variety of people, including a couple of her with him and Lucille, and at least one of her with the boys as children. Reaching up, he ghosted his fingers over the picture of Lucille and sighed.

"That's a good shot of the two of you." He turned at the sound of Lou's voice as she came back into the room. "Coffee's brewing," she said, smiling.

There was an awkward silence between them. He turned again to study the pictures. They seemed to span a lot of years, from the days when he and Lucille had met her up until near the present time, showing her as she aged from twenty-something to the mature lady who stood in the room with him.

"Who are they?" he asked, sweeping a hand to indicate the entire wall.

"Friends," she said simply. "I make them wherever I go."

He turned his head to her. "No pictures of Greg?"

She shook her head, her face taking on an expression of melancholy. "No. None of him." She turned her head toward the doorway. "The coffee's ready."

He followed her down the hall, past a closet and a bathroom and into the bright kitchen with its pale yellow walls and knotty pine cabinets. She took down two coffee mugs, and poured out for them both.

"You used to take yours black," she said, handing him the mug.

"I still do. Do you still use those flavored creamers? I remember you made me try a caramel one once," Jeff said, making a face.

She chuckled, "I remember you took one sip and made the same face you made just now. Then you asked me for some 'real' coffee."

"Yeah. You got Lucille hooked on those things," he said, watching as she walked to the cryofridge and pulled out a bottle of creamer. "What's the flavor today?"

"Just French vanilla," she said, pouring a generous amount into her cup.

Jeff looked around the kitchen. Though he knew the house was older, it had the most modern of conveniences; everything to make cooking and cleaning up after as easy as possible. He made himself comfortable in one of the ladderback kitchen chairs and stretched out his legs, putting his cup on the table top. Lou joined him, licking her stirring spoon and setting it down, bowl up, on the table beside her cup.

"So, is this 'some other time'?" Jeff asked. "Are you going to tell me what happened between you and Greg?"

Lou sat back and regarded him for a moment, then dropped her eyes. "I'm really surprised that Lucy didn't tell you anything about it. She was such a rock for me while it was all going on."

Jeff shook his head. "She didn't. But again, I wasn't around as much as I could have been then. Besides, if I know Lucy, she probably thought it was a breach of a confidence to air yours and Greg's, uh, dirty laundry."

Lou's expression softened and she smiled a bit. "Yeah, you're right. She would have at that." She looked up at Jeff and gave him a rueful smile. "Wellll, there were several things, all of which came to a head in about a six month period. First, there was the childlessness issue. You might remember that I had a couple of miscarriages? And then the hysterectomy because of the fibrous tumors? It was impossible for us to have children after that. But the longer we were married, the more important having kids became to him. Lucy suggested that adoption might be an option, and I brought that to Greg, telling him I'd be amenable to adopting a child. He seemed happy with that, and we started the process."

She took a sip of coffee. "But Greg's company kept moving us around. It seemed that every time I would get comfortable in a place and make some friends that I could confide in, they would relocate us. Our move away from Kansas was one of those. We had to drop the adoption idea because we didn't stay in one state long enough to go through the whole process! And they didn't always move us to the most opportune places for my job, either. Greg would choose where we were going to live, then leave me with the details of the move." She smiled ruefully. "I got really good at it after a bit. Usually I'd draw the short end of the stick when it came to commuting time, spending hours on the monorails or even driving. I'd come home exhausted, and he started staying late at work. He grew more and more unhappy with our situation, and wanted more and more to have children. But he wasn't willing to give up his job so we could stay in one place and adopt.

"The last straw was when I came home from an overseas assignment and found half our furnishings gone. He left me a long, rambling note, the gist of it being that he wanted a divorce because I wouldn't give him children. Not couldn't, but wouldn't. He said he'd found someone at his work who was only too glad to oblige him and I discovered later that she was already in the process of doing so when he left.

"I gave him the divorce, making sure that my assets were secure and seeing to it that he paid me alimony for a set number of years. And after I got through all the guilt and the anger, and the bruising to my ego healed, I found out it was a good thing. I was able to settle down here, to start making friends in the community, to do for some of my old friends and their kids the things I had wanted to, but Greg had said 'no' to." She smiled, a genuine one this time. "I felt free. Of course, I missed the sex, but... you can't always have everything."

"But why no pictures?" Jeff asked. "I know you loved him, once upon a time, and you had some good times together. Wouldn't you want to remember those?"

"I don't have pictures of him on display for probably the same reason that there're no pictures of Lucille on your desk," Lou said gently. "It still hurts sometimes."

Jeff nodded slowly. They sat quietly for a few moments, drinking their coffee, then Lou looked at her kitchen clock.

"Ready for some lunch? I think I might be able to fit a bit in now," she asked.

"Sounds good," Jeff replied, draining his coffee cup. She took it from him and put it beside hers in the sink.

"Get your coat and then I'll unlock the cat door," Lou told him. "I know Midnight wants out of the porch. He's a Rum Tum Tugger, that one; always on the wrong side of every door."

Jeff grinned, and went down to the guest room to fetch his jacket. He shut the door behind him just as a furry black streak ran down the hallway, trying to beat the door's closing. The cat lost the race, and sat down on the hardwood floor, looking up at Jeff with startlingly yellow eyes and mrrroawing in a scolding tone.

"Sorry, boy. This room is off-limits," Jeff said to the feline. He joined Lou at the coat closet and held her leather coat for her as she slipped her arms into it. "Thanks," she said, favoring him with a pleased smile.

Glancing inside the closet, he noticed the shoulder holster hanging up on a hook. The gun was nowhere to be seen. He wondered if she had carried a gun on her when her plane went down. Can't forget to tell her about the sabotage; it is the reason I came.

"What kind of food would you like?" Lou asked as she moved over to arm her security system. "Asheville's got a wide variety to choose from."

"I have no real preference," Jeff said. "Are we taking your truck?"

"Yes, if that's okay with you. We'll get places faster if I drive."

"Sure. Lead on, I follow," Jeff said with a mischievous smile.

Lou shook her head and said in an overly dramatic voice, "Once more into the breach, dear friends!" She motioned for Jeff to precede her and then she stepped out and closed the door behind her, firmly locking it with her remote. They walked together to her truck, climbed in, backed out of the drive, and started down the steep gravel road.

Lou turned left onto the two lane highway that followed the curve of the river. She passed by the opening to an old driveway, overgrown with young pines, and after a second or two, a car eased itself out of the greenery's cover and began to follow her truck. The driver picked up a satellite phone and placed a call.

"She's heading for the city. And she's got company."