—William Styron, “A Tidewater Morning” Jackie LeFevre was in a business that thrived on banter and raillery, on mundane observations about the fickleness of the weather or the routine injustices of the world, but she was not a talker. Her habit was to deliver a customer’s order with a brief nod or grunt or quick-dissolve smile—just enough interaction to avoid a reputation for rudeness, but no more. Occasionally she’d add, “Anything else?” but the words had an impersonal chill to them, an edge. Plainly, you were expected to reply, “No, I’m good,” so that Jackie could return to work. Her careful reticence was a matter of efficiency, but it was also, Belfa Elkins thought, something else: a way of keeping the world at arm’s length. That was why, when Jackie set a cup of coffee in front of Bell and then slid into the booth seat across from her, Bell was surprised. “Hey,” Jackie said. “Need to ask your advice. Mind some company?”
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