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village of Chambers Bay. It consisted of one stop light, three churches, five taverns, a public pier, a combination constable's office and volunteer fire department, four stores (one bait, one hardware, one variety and one drug), two gas stations and three restaurants (two of which were closed). |
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Our only choice was a diner about a quarter of a mile from the motel. Inside we found a booth that looked out over the darkened bay. The waitress, as it turned out, was one notch above the sullen young clerk back at the motel; she didn't smile, but at least she could talk. |
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From the series of lighted signs and advertisements littering the grubby walls, I easily determined that the house specialty was Moosehead and that there was no limit to the variety of ways they could serve it. Considering it a challenge, I taxed the scowling barmaid with an order for two bottles, chilled, opened and poured in glasses. I'm sure the woman did her best, but the Moosehead was no better than lukewarm. Brenda didn't seem to mind, so I let the matter rest. |
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"Somehow I had it pictured a little different from this," she admitted. |
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I gave her the stock E.G. Wages quizzical look. |
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"Oh, you know, successful author, cocktail parties, the beautiful people hanging on your every word." She looked around the |
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