Blue Mountain Review / nov. 2020 The toothache disappeared in the morning, but he took a pill to be on the safe side. Hadn’t Dr. Larson told him to let his body do the talking? His body was saying, “Tell Nora Boyd you’re still a bit under the weather, and wouldn’t it be nice to cozy up after dinner? How about a little investigative drama?” Then he went through the rest of his mail—two letters from readers, one urging him to check out an emu ranch. The writer supplied directions and signed off as “Interested Party.” “Live and let live,” the other letter began. “Generally, I’m against same-sex entanglements, but my wife and I like your travel stories. We visited the farm implement museum that you and your companion went to. Anyhow, we’re sad for you.” “What made you decide to move to Colorado?” he asked Nora at dinner. “In your profession, don’t you need to be where the action is?”
“It’s pretty costly to live where the action is. I’m going to enjoy being myself. It takes a lot out of me
to study up on the people. I have to become them.” “I bet you hear from viewers a lot.” She nodded and ate heartily. “Must be the altitude. I’m constantly hungry and tired. I fell asleep this afternoon and dreamed I was fishing, and snagged a huge, homely fish with whiskers and human teeth. I hooked it right in the jaw.” She blushed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about teeth.” “No problem. It’s all behind me now.” He wanted to say more, but she announced that her ex had been fond of reptiles. “He had a python that smelled like spinach. It bit me once.” “Grounds for divorce,” he joked, but she looked wistful. “He told me he didn’t know who I was anymore. My husband.” Tom shook his head. “My wife took up with someone younger, and I thought I’d never get over her, but I did.” Jesus, he thought, when she asked if he’d like to see her parts. He wondered if he’d developed a hearing problem. He watched her reach into her kimono for a DVD. His DVD player was upstairs in the bedroom. She took Peg’s side of the bed.
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