Meg Pokrass, Linda Hofer, James Hofer, Lillian Paul, Sylvia Fanelli, Kristen Scott, James Downs, Dirk Dunbar, Ken Gurton, Erik Mayne. The Walkin Dude has a groupie, it seems. Katie thought it was sort of cute that the Walkin Dude ducked his head somewhat shyly as she plopped down next to him, so close their knees were almost touching. Sorry, she said. I dont want you to feel uncomfortable, or anything. No, its okay, he replied. Im just not used to, uh... Im sorry, she said again. Then, realizing how she must appear to him, she added, I dont really do this kind of thing a lot. Its just...well, Ive been a fan of yours for so long. Now that youre here, theres so many things Ive wanted to say to you, so many questions Ive wanted to ask. Okay. The Walkin Dude glanced around the room nervously. You wont get in trouble for this, will you? Katie shook her head, smiling. I own the place. My mom and dad built it, and now, for good or ill, its all mine. She inclined her head toward the two waitresses, who were now staring openly. They had never seen the boss lady acting quite this familiar with a customer, save for Donny and Kenny, and they hardly counted, in their estimation. Well, the Walkin Dude said after a moment, I guess that makes it all right, then. Damn straight, it does. Katie grin grew wider. She saw that the Walkin Dude was also aware of the stares from the other women, and it seemed to make him uncomfortable. Her eyes narrowed, and she jerked her head toward the few customers who were left. Dont you girls have stuff to do? While the girls, both of whom were on the north side of forty, made a show of getting back to business, Katie returned her attention to the Walkin Dude. Gazing into his face, she was struck by the difference in his eyes since the last time she had seen him this closely. That day in Topeka, they had been that same coffee shade of brown, but, back then, there had been a guarded openness about them that was missing now. The eyes that gazed back at her were the eyes of a man who had seen more of life than he had ever wanted to see - or that any one person should see. It made her feel sad for him, but also curious. What the hell could cause such a change in a man? Before Katie could say anything more, Byron bawled from the kitchen that her order was up. Bring it to that booth, Katie directed Cassie, the older of the waitresses, while tugging impulsively at the Walkin Dudes sleeve. Come on, Mr. Walker, well be more comfortable over there. The Walkin Dude made no argument as she led the way. She noticed though, that his movements were a bit hesitant, like those of a man who was trying not to show the effects of a recent injury. He must have a fever, she thought again, but she couldnt think of a graceful way to bring the subject up to him. When they were comfortably seated across from each other in the booth, Katie spoke again of her love of his work and what a thrill she had gotten from their (for her) all too brief encounter in Topeka, finishing up with, When you described the love Andrew Jackson and his wife shared, I knew I had to buy your book - and I have to tell you, history was just about my weakest and least favorite subject in school. To her surprise, that got him talking. He spoke of his belief that history could be made enjoyable by making the story about people, rather than about the dates, places and events. History doesnt make people, he told her. People make history. Does that make sense to you? Katie nodded happily, glad that he was showing some animation, that his voice actually displayed a passion for his work. They talked for an hour or more, each seeming at ease with the other after their somewhat bumpy start. Watching his face and the movements of his hands as he spoke, Katie was struck by an errant thought: Good god, this guy is beautiful!
Posted on: Wed, 06 Nov 2013 07:38:07 +0000
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