There is the sound of metal sliding against metal, then ringing shut, and a powerful dishwasher starting up, water pounding the metal sides of it. She comes up and in one motion sweeps a coffee pot from its resting place, tips it at a distance from the cups on the counter, filling first one then the other with the precision of an artist daubing a horizontal canvas. All I can do is blink. Very much . . . Or the two backed beast.
Refills are free.
Immediately she turns around and begins to fill little white paper cups with salted peanuts from a large can, placing them in rows on a tray. I look at her back and think of the beautiful way Mary Beth's back folded in toward her waist. Physically this woman is completely different from Mary Beth, but I'm reminded of Mary Beth as I watch her. For some reason I feel I know her, but as herself, not as a clone of Mary Beth. Somehow we're dancing together, or could be.