She'd arranged to have brunch with Debbie Holton an hour ago, and still the young woman hadn't appeared or left word. Gail was sitting at the window of Walker's Restaurant, on Brattleboro's Main Street—and once again had consumed enough coffee to set her nerves up for a week."More coffee?"Gail started and turned to look at the waitress holding a thermos and a sympathetic expression—a veteran of broken dates plainly yearning to share her advice with the lovelorn.Gail smiled and shook her head. "No thanks, I think a bathroom and a walk is what I need now."She paid her bill, used the bathroom, and stepped out onto the sidewalk, lost in the effort of remembering the West Brattleboro motel Debbie had referred to as home for the time being. Debbie had said the name the day before when they'd gone for lunch at the Food Co-op after meeting for the first time on the wooden staircase between Elliot and Flat Streets. But she'd tossed it off incongruously, Gail had thought, since it hadn't been in any context.
