"
"But she should see them!"
"She'd like them, you think?"
"Of course she would. They're beautiful."
"I'm not much for writing,"
"I could mail them to her if you'd like." He looked at the carvings,
rubbed his chin, and inclined his head. A _why not_ expression crossed
his face. He pulled a twenty dollar bill from a scarred black wallet.
"Tucker, for heavens sake!" He insisted that she take it.
"Ask her, if she don't mind--I might take a ride down, say hello.
Probably get a train down there." He looked at Charlie.
"Amtrak," Charlie said. "Or you could fly."
"I like trains."
They finished lunch and put the box of carvings on the back seat of
the car. "I'll wrap tissue paper around them so they don't get banged
up. I'll mail them tomorrow," Margery said. "Tucker, thank you so much
for lunch. It was so good to see you."
"I thought I'd be seeing you again one of these days," Tucker said.
"We'll keep in touch," Margery said.
"Take care of yourself," Charlie said. "You want a ride back?"
"I'll walk."
They drove away slowly as Tucker and Sally watched. Tucker lifted one
hand in farewell.
"You just never know, do you?" Charlie said.
"Tucker Smollett," Margery said. "Good old Tucker."
Halfway back to Portland, Charlie looked over at Margery and asked
about her husband. "He cared for me," she said. "He just cared more for
someone else."
"Damn shame," Charlie said.
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