"Oh! I almost forgot. He has a friend named Al."
"Is his friend Paul Simon?"
Alec paused.
"It's a deep cut," said Demarco. "Forget it."
Alec continued: "Al's wife Misty has approached me twice. The first time I think she was
curious, you know—just being protective of Tyler. But the second time, she told me about this dream she had where I was writing romance novels. Said she saw this… without me telling her anything.
Claims to be clairvoyant."
"Do you believe her?"
"Maybe. I'm telling you, D… this is the weirdest town."
"And DC isn't? Maybe she's a shaman."
"Her grandfather was, so she says. She's Native American, I think. Is that racist?"
"Everything is."
"Says the African-American Government Hooker."
"Black, baby. I ain't ever been African."
"I love you."
"Love you too. Gotta go. Kiss Ennis for me."
"It'sTyler."
"Whatever you say."
21
It was getting dark when Alec heard Tyler putting Brandy away in the barn. He had planned to
have everything ready by then, but his writing had been going so well that he refused to stop until twilight. He opened the refrigerator and removed some olives and cheese and began arranging them
on a plate for a snack. He opened a bottle of wine and left it on the counter with two short tumblers.
When he opened the front door he found Tyler there, hand extended holding the frozen lasagna.
Alec took it, brushing snow from the cardboard container. "Thanks. There wasn't room in the freezer,"
he said.
"Are there others coming?"
"No. It's the only one they had. I wanted to impress you with home cooking and all Buddy had
wasNewman's Ownand macaroni… No tomatoes, lettuce, Parmesan, nothing."
"The trucks," Tyler said, closing the door. "I should have told you. Nothing comes farther than Missoula when the weather's bad."
"It's all good. We'll just have to make do with what we have."
