Jean said, “He has one leg, just got a brand new prosthesis and it's taking a while getting used to.” It sounded like something she'd said many times before.

I said, “That can be tough. Years ago, I worked with children with missing limbs.”

“Did you?” she said. “Well, Dick lost his in an auto accident.”

Pain in her eyes. I said, “Recently?”

“Oh, no, several years ago. Before anyone really appreciated the value of seat belts. He was driving a convertible, was unbelted, got hit from behind and thrown out. Another car ran over his leg.”

“Terrible.”

“Thank God he wasn't killed. I met him when he was in rehab. I was doing a rotation at Rancho Los Amigos and he was there for a couple of months. He made a great adjustment to his appliance—always had until it started bothering him a few months ago. He'll get used to the new one. He's a good guy, very determined.”

I smiled.

“So,” she said, “how are you?”

“Fine. And intrigued.”

“By?”

“Your call.”

“Oh.” The sheet of hair fell over her eye. She let it stay there. “Well, I didn't mean to be overly dramatic, it's just—” She looked around. “Why don't we order first, and then we can talk about it.”

We read the menu. Someone in the kitchen had a thing for balsamic vinegar.

When she said, “Well, I know what I want,” I waved over a waiter. Asian kid, around nineteen, with a waist-length ponytail and ten stud earrings rimming the outer cartilage of his left ear. It hurt to look at him and I stared at the table as Jean ordered an insalata something or other. I asked for linguine marinara and an iced tea. Ruined Ear came back quickly with the drink and a refill of her coffee.

When he left, she said, “So you live pretty close to here?”

“Not far.”

“For a while Dick and I thought about moving over the hill, but then prices started to go crazy.”

“They've slid quite a bit recently.”

“Not enough.” She smiled. “Not that I'm complaining. Dick's an aerospace engineer and he does well, but you never know when the government's going to cancel a project. The place we've got in Studio City is really pretty nice.” She looked at her watch. “He's probably over at Rudnicks now. He likes to shop there for sweaters.”

“He's not having lunch?”

“What I need to talk to you about is confidential. Dick understands that. So why did I bring him with me, right? To be honest, it's because I'm still shaky. Still haven't gotten used to being alone.”

“I don't blame you.”

“Don't you think I should be past it by now?”

“I probably wouldn't be.”

“That's a very nice thing to say.”

“It's the truth.”

Another smile. She reached over and touched my hand, just for a second. Then back to her coffee cup.