Burning Man (26 page)

Sirius’s happy sounds alerted me to Lisbet’s approach. “Hello you,” she said, talking to the dog and then leaning down to scratch him.

“If I make those sounds,” I asked, “will you scratch me?”

“Only if you roll over and beg first.”

She smiled at me and made me feel good inside. I had planned on nothing more than a short conversation with Lisbet, but suddenly that wasn’t enough.

“I hope this doesn’t sound inappropriate,” I said, “and it probably is, and if it is I apologize, but are you doing anything afterward?”

It took Lisbet a moment to make sense of my meandering question.

“I have to stay here for another half hour or so,” she said, “but I’m free after that.”

My head started bobbing up and down, but the bobblehead imitation didn’t help me with my speaking skills, and once more I found myself babbling. “Good. I mean, that will work for me. We are talking about dinner, aren’t we? Because I know we discussed having lunch, but this way we can kill two birds with one stone.”

I finally took a breath and then said, “Sorry, that didn’t come out quite right.”

Lisbet lightly touched my burning left cheek and delivered me from feeling felony stupid with a smile. “Dinner sounds great.”

“Good,” I said. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll take Sirius for a walk while you finish up here.”

“Enjoy your walk.”

Waving seemed like a better option than talking. I needed to study those tapes of the old me again, I thought, so that I could remember who I was supposed to be and how I used to act. I wanted to be that self-confident man again and not some blithering idiot.

There wasn’t much in the way of scenery near the cemetery, and I didn’t think it appropriate to go look at headstones with Sirius, so we set off up the long driveway. After the fact, I started giving some thought as to where I’d be taking Lisbet to eat. I wanted a quiet spot that was comfortable and not stuffy. Usually my only concern is if the restaurant has a patio and allows me to bring my partner. Tonight my date was going to be much less hairy and only have two legs.

I used my phone to check out dining options in Palm Springs. Usually I only care if the food is good. This time I also checked
on comments that spoke to ambience. The Europa Restaurant received high marks in both. I called for reservations and then asked the hostess for directions. She provided them and then said, “You can’t miss it.”

I thanked her, and hung up, but was sure she had jinxed me and said as much to Sirius.

“Whenever anyone says, ‘You can’t miss it,’ you always do,” I said. “When ‘Wrong-Way’ Corrigan took off from New York, he didn’t end up in California. No, he ended up in Ireland. I am sure someone said to him, ‘You can’t miss it.’”

Sirius didn’t look interested.

“Cucamonga,” I said, and my partner responded with a little dance.

We began walking back to the Garden of Angels. From a distance the cemetery appeared to be deserted, but as we drew closer I could see that Lisbet had one final task awaiting her. Two cemetery workers were lowering a small pink casket into the ground.

Sirius and I didn’t encroach. With a bowed head, Lisbet waited for the casket to be positioned and the hole filled. Her vigil continued even after the workers finished with the burial. It was dark when Lisbet finally took her leave of Rose. I was feeling a bit uncomfortable by then and wondered if suggesting dinner had been a good idea, but Lisbet quickly dispelled any doubts.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, “but I don’t like to leave the children until I have this sense that they’re settled. It’s always a huge relief for me when they’re buried and, well, when they’re home. I know that probably sounds crazy.”

“What’s crazy is that they’re here in the first place. Are you still okay for dinner?”

“Okay? You hear my stomach grumbling? I’m afraid if you listen closely you might hear it growling the words ‘Donner Party.’”

“Barring any blizzards, we should get to the restaurant in about half an hour.”

“I hope you’re right, otherwise it might cost you an arm and a leg.”

Once we were in the car and on the road, I pointed to the glove compartment. “Inside you’ll find your choice of appetizers, madam.”

Lisbet flipped it open and started pulling out odds and ends that I’d taken away from restaurants. There were several packages of saltines, oyster crackers, sugar packets, dinner mints, and some hot sauce.

“You really know how to spoil a girl.”

“If you’re still hungry, there’s also a box of dog biscuits under your seat.”

Lisbet rummaged around and came up with the box. Sirius’s ears perked up at the sound and she asked, “Can I give him one?”

“He’s sort of particular and won’t take food from someone he doesn’t know well.”

Sirius put his muzzle on Lisbet’s shoulder and took a dog biscuit from her without any hesitation. He was already munching when I told him, “It’s okay to eat, boy.”

He nudged Lisbet for another, and I nodded. The second one also disappeared without any demur.

“Why are dog biscuits colored if dogs are color blind?” Lisbet asked.

Instead of telling her that dogs aren’t completely color blind I said, “That sounds like a Stephen Wright observation.” And then imitating Wright’s deadpan voice, I added, “I have an inferiority complex, but it’s not a very good one.”

Lisbet was busy tearing at a saltines package with her teeth, but stopped her shredding for long enough to laugh. After devouring those, she also finished the oyster crackers and then picked up the box of dog biscuits and started looking at the ingredients.

“These don’t look that bad. The primary ingredients are wheat flour and wheat bran, and they also have wheat germ and brewers’ yeast.”

“Go for it.”

She turned her head to me, made eye contact and regarded my smile—well, sneer.

“I double dog dare you. Come to think of it, I double dog biscuit dare you.”

“One of these is supposed to be peanut butter flavor,” she said and pulled some of the biscuits out of the box and started doing a sniff test.

The hairy beggar in the backseat took her inspection as an invitation to plead his case and was rewarded with another treat.

“This one is the peanut butter,” Lisbet said, brandishing it at me.

“
Bone
appetit,” I said.

She didn’t hesitate but bit into it and started eating. After swallowing she said, “It’s possible that was the bacon flavor.”

Her poker face didn’t tell me anything else. “I hope you’re not looking for a second opinion.”

“You think I would share with you?”

Lisbet opened one of the hot sauce packets and lathered the remaining half of the dog treat in it. She popped it in her mouth and started chewing. The more I laughed, the more she looked at me as if to say, “What’s so funny?” That, of course, made it all the funnier.

Despite the presence of dog biscuit crumbs on the side of her mouth, I wanted to lean over and kiss her. I didn’t want to rush it, though, so instead of reaching with my lips I used my index finger to lightly brush the side of her mouth and said, “You might consider having a few of those dinner mints now.”

She hit my arm and I pretended to be in pain. It was great to feel like I was in second grade again.

For a time, Palm Springs was known as a place for the newly wed and the nearly dead, but nowadays the oasis in the desert is home to a diverse population. As we entered the city I followed
the directions I had been given and surprised myself by not getting lost.

Before decamping from the car, I opened some windows and poured some water. “I hope you don’t mind,” I said to Lisbet, taking the box of dog biscuits from her and pulling out two more to give to Sirius.

“Are you planning on holding that over me?”

“For a long, long time,” I said.

Instead of objecting, she smiled.

The Europa Restaurant was located in the middle of the Villa Royale Inn. Fountains gurgled and planters spilled over with flowers. Trellised bougainvillea was everywhere. Overhead, the night sky was thick with stars that looked almost close enough to touch, and in the distance the shadow of Mount San Jacinto appeared as an impressive backdrop to the property. As we walked by a pool with glimmering lights, it almost felt as if we were in some villa in the Mediterranean.

At our approach the hostess looked up from her stand, and for just an instant her welcoming smile faltered at the double whammy of my scarred and bruised face before regaining its full wattage. She asked whether we had reservations, and I said, “Yes, Donner, party of two.”

Lisbet nudged me, and I gave my real name. The hostess rewarded my honesty by seating us near a glowing fireplace. For once, I didn’t worry about fire. The heat from the fire offered comforting warmth, and in Lisbet’s company I could forget all the bad things that had happened to me in the past twenty-four hours.

I ordered the rack of lamb with the tapenade of dates, and Lisbet had the salmon in parchment with wild mushrooms drizzled with crème fraîche and sprinkled with dill. The food was wonderful, but even if I’d been served MRE rations, I would have been mightily pleased. This wasn’t a date where I was going through the motions and was out with someone because I was supposed to be getting on
with my life; I was where I wanted to be and Lisbet seemed to be enjoying my company as much as I was hers.

Our server came around, and although there wasn’t much left on our plates, both of us asked for a doggy bag. “I told Sirius that he’d be getting a treat tonight. That usually means a stop at In-N-Out Burger and a Flying Dutchman cooked rare.”

“I’m no stranger to In-N-Out,” she said, “but I’m not familiar with a Flying Dutchman.”

“It’s two meat patties and two slices of cheese with no bun, but you won’t find it on the In-N-Out menu. They have a secret menu, even though I think half of southern California is in on the secret. All the employees know the code words. They never blink when I order my burgers
animal style
, which means I want the patties cooked in mustard.”

“How come I don’t know about this secret menu?”

“You haven’t been hanging around with the right people.”

“Or the wrong people?”

“I resemble that remark.”

The warmth from the fire made me too comfortable; my grin turned into a yawn. “Excuse me,” I said.

“After what happened to you last night, you probably shouldn’t even be out.”

“After what happened to me last night, this is the best medicine I can think of.”

“Any leads on those men that attacked you?”

I opened my mouth to tell her about my morning in the Bay Area but then decided not to talk about it. Ellis Haines wasn’t going to spoil my evening. I shook my head.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” I said.

Her face told me she knew I was being evasive. “Someone once told me that when you’re in the presence of a real friend, you can think aloud.”

“It’s hard enough for me to think in silence.”

Lisbet offered only a hint of a smile, prompting me to say, “I think there’s a lot of truth in that saying. I used to think aloud with my wife.”

“What was her name?”

“I never settled on just one. In the course of a minute I could call her Jenny, Jen, or Jennifer.”

“Do you mind my asking how she died?”

“I don’t mind, even though most people think the answer is anticlimactic. She died of the flu.”

In a voice that was little more than a whisper, I repeated an old rhyme: “I had a little bird and its name was Enza, I opened the window and in flew Enza.” In a normal voice I continued, “Out of the mouths of babes, you know. That rhyme was popular with children during the Spanish influenza pandemic. There was a ghoulish quality to those words, because around the world forty million people were dying from the flu, and they weren’t mostly the old and young but healthy adults between the ages of twenty and forty.

“We’ve forgotten that, of course. People usually do a double take when I tell them my wife died of complications from the flu. Nowadays, the flu isn’t supposed to be fatal to a healthy and athletic twenty-nine-year-old woman. It was probably that thinking which killed Jen. Even though she was sick, she kept pushing herself. Instead of bed rest and fluids, she dragged herself into work. She downplayed her symptoms. What she called a chest cold was actually pneumonia; what she described as a little fever turned out to be a dangerously high temperature. I shouldn’t have let her keep reassuring me that she was all right when I knew she was sick, and I shouldn’t have let her keep working. By the time I talked her into going to the hospital, her system was already in meltdown.”

“I am sorry.”

There was a moment of contemplative silence, but it was broken by the server who swooped in to ask, “Can I interest the two of you in some dessert tonight?”

Lisbet was about to decline the offer, but I said, “When it comes to dessert, my mom always quotes Erma Bombeck: ‘Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the
Titanic
that waved off the dessert cart.’”

Because Lisbet didn’t look quite won over, I added, “What happened to those thirty-two sweet teeth you told me about?”

“I suppose it is only right to remember the
Titanic
,” Lisbet said. She turned to the waitress and asked, “What do you suggest?”

“The chocolate mousse is heavenly.”

There was a meeting of raised eyebrows, and then I said, “Heaven can’t wait. We’ll take two mice.”

Later, as the two of us were searching with our spoons for any speck of mousse that we might have missed, I said, “I’m doing this for Sirius, you know. Chocolate is not good for dogs, so the mousse can’t be part of his doggy bag.”

“No sacrifice too big,” Lisbet said, patting her hips. “But I am thinking that you really should get him that Flying Dutchman.”

“I might even get him a three by three.”

“Is that more secret menu talk?”

I nodded. “Three meat patties, three slices of cheese.”

“Do you order with some kind of Masonic handshake?”

“That’s not necessary, but they’ll give you free fries if you drive up to the takeout window in a Shriners car and shake your fez in the prescribed manner.”