Talk of the Town Read Online Free PDF Page A

she felt she was much too short and too female to do it justice.
    "Earl, this is Gary Albright," she said when she noticed the old man eyeing her guest. "Gary, this is my grandfather, Earl Wickum. The boy is my son, Harley Wickum," she added, getting the family secret out and over with.
    It didn't take long for most people to figure out that the three of them had the same last name, and what that meant about her and Harley. She rarely offered details, but she never tried to hide it. And most people were polite enough to let it go at that, no matter what they were thinking.
    Gary, however, wasn't connecting any dots. By the time a man reached thirty, most of the available women he met either had children or were looking to have them—immediately. Eight or nine years later, dating single mothers was just part of the game.
    "How do you do, sir," he said, holding a friendly hand out to Earl before he really noticed that the old man's were both full, a large styrofoam cup in each.
    "Humph," Earl grunted with a nod of acknowledgment. He was as chatty as he was deaf—not at all.
    "Here, let me get that door for you," Gary said, reaching out to turn the doorknob for him. "Those chocolate sundaes sure look good."
    Earl walked past him and into the garage. Rose could hear him on the stairs before Gary looked back up to the window. Harley was leaving the diner again.
    "Should I come up, or will you come down?" Gary asked, knowing an open, door of opportunity when he saw one.
    "You should go home," she said, not unkindly.
    "But I brought stuff. Don't you want to come down and look at it?"
    "Not really. I told you, it has to speak to me. When it speaks to someone else, it never works for me."
    "It might be different this time. The three of us could be speaking the same language," he said, indicating the box as if it were a third person.
    Harley had crossed the street and come up behind Gary. He was staring at the box, hoping there was a midget inside. This was no small man before him, and Harley didn't relish the idea of confronting him if he was hassling Rose. He spooned in another mouthful of hot fudge sundae, thinking it might be his last.
    "You can leave the box if you want, but I've had a long day and I'll probably have another one tomorrow, so I—"
    "Hey, Harley, how are you?" he said, cutting off her dismissal when he noticed the boy behind him. He put out his hand for a friendly shake—waiting patiently while Harley wiped his sticky fingers on his shirtfront before taking it. "I'm Gary Albright. I met your mom a few days ago, and she's making me crazy," he said, only half joking. "She won't even talk to me. I have a steady job. I've never been to jail. I don't smoke or lie or cheat on my taxes. I do have an occasional drink, usually a beer with the boys, but I haven't gotten sloppy drunk in years. I am divorced, but I don't have any children, and I own my own home in Fairfield. That's about halfway between San Francisco and Sacramento, which works out pretty well because I do a lot of business in both places . . . and it's pretty quiet out there, away from all the big city hubbub. My friends think I'm a pretty decent kind of guy, but I can't get your mother to give me the time of day. What should I do?"
    Harley was still shaking his hand, nodding, his mouth hanging open in dumb disbelief. Over the years, other men had come sniffing around his mother. Only a few had paid him the slightest heed; most disappeared in light of her indifference; none of them had ever asked his advice.
    He shrugged, his hand dropping to his side when Gary released it.
    "Do you have a girlfriend?" Gary asked.
    He shook his head.
    "But there's a girl you like a lot, isn't there?"
    Heather Underwood. Pale yellow hair. Big, sky blue eyes. Huge breasts and long legs . . . Harley shrugged and moved his head a little. Gary saw it as a definite maybe.
    "Then you know how it is," he said, demonstrating the male bond between them. "Getting a particularly fine