"I thought I might have seen some fuzz this morning," Gary Martin said.

"Anything else you want me to tell her?"

"I'll leave it up to you. You're a relationship expert, right? I mean, you know the right things to say"

Oh boy, we were in trouble. I never said the right thing. Lula was right. I was a relationship disaster.

"Sure," I told him. "Leave it to me. I'll get this fixed up."

Lula settled her ass on a Beetle Bumpkin barstool and looked around. "Beetle Bumpkin is one of them new mini chains," she said. "There's one just opened downtown. The sandwiches are good because they fry them. Everything's fried. That's the Beetle Bumpkin secret ingredient."

Loretta Flack was taking an order at the other end of the bar. Her hair was yellow under the Bumpkin bar lights, and her breasts were packed into a red Beetle Bumpkin T-shirt. I figured she was maybe fifteen years younger than Gary Martin.

"Let me do the talking this time," I said to Lula.

"My lips are sealed. I'm only here in case you need backup. Like suppose she tries some karate moves or she pulls a gun on you."

"I don't think that's going to happen."

"You never know. Best to be prepared, I always say. People are unpredictable. I learned that in my human behavior course at the community college. Did I ever tell you I took a human behavior course?"

"Yes."

"It could help in this situation. It's just about qualified me to be a relationship expert. Plus I got a lot of expertise all those years when I was a 'ho. I bet I could relationship the ass off you."

"No doubt. Let me talk anyway."

Loretta made her way down to us. "Ladies?" she said.

"Diet Coke and tuna on rye," I told her.

"I'll have the Beetle special sandwich and cheese fries and a Coke," Lula said.

I looked at my watch. It was twelve-thirty. "What about your afternoon diet?"