She looked up. It was the valet guy from last night. Only today he was apparently the waiter guy. He had a little pad sticking out of his pocket, a pencil behind his ear. The tag on his shirt read stan.

She smiled up at him. “And here I thought you just parked cars.”

“I’m a multitalented individual. I park cars when they ask me to park cars, wait tables when they ask me to wait tables.” He handed her the menu tucked under his arm.

“At last,” she said, putting down Tess to take it, “a book I can understand.”

He dipped his head to get a peek at the cover. “I’m a Far from the Madding Crowd man myself.”

“Is that the name of an underground rave or something?”

“It’s the name of an early Hardy novel. I liked it better than Tess. The heroine’s got more snap to her, not such a wet blanket, you know what I mean?”

“No, but I will when I read the CliffsNotes.”

“Let me guess, a junior-year transfer to Wolcott Academy.”

She looked at him in surprise. “How did you know?”

“I know your year because you’re reading Tess of the d’Urbervilles, the assigned summer book for Literature and the Human Condition, a course that is usually for juniors, though I took it as a sophomore. And I know you’re a transfer because if you were already at Wolcott, I’d have noticed.”

“Those are some serious powers of deduction you got there, Stan. You really are multitalented. How do you like Wolcott?”

“It’s all right. I’m pretty much in nose-to-the-grindstone mode when I’m there. I came in on a scholarship, and I’m doing my best to go out on one, too.”

“Scholarship to where?”

“Yale, if I can swing it. I’m a New Haven boy, so it’s always been the goal.” He smiled and shook his head, like he was suddenly shy or embarrassed, had revealed too much. “So,” he said, a second later when he’d recovered, “you want me to give you the CliffsNotes version of the menu, tell you what’s good?”

“Actually, no,” she said, handing back the menu to him. “Don’t bother. I’m just going to get an iced tea, sit here, and sound out words.”

“You’re not hungry?”

“Listen, I can move to a different station if you’d like. I know how annoying it is to have one of your tables taken up by a drink-nurser.”

He looked amused. “Oh you do, do you?”

“Hey, I put in my time waiting tables. Probably more than you have. Two full summers,” she said, and then grinned at the defensive note that had risen in her voice.

He grinned back. “You recently came into good fortune, huh?”