simple, sparsely decorated storefront, with a high ceiling and overhead fans, a row ofdark wooden booths, a long Formica counter, and a scattering oftables up front.The women who run it—country women with checkered domestic lives and a penchant for teas-ing and wisecracks—open for business at six in the morning, when the truckers, contractors, and farmworkers gather for ham and eggs.Now that Leyden is changing, with more and more city people moving in, there are fancier and, to be honest about it, better places to have break-fast, but Daniel still frequents the Double K, where his parents took him for his first restaurant meal.He holds the door open for Iris, knowing there will surely be people here whom he knows, people to whom he will have to nod, or greet, or perhaps even speak with.Kate, however, will certainly not be among them.It is not yet nine o’clock and she is probably still sleeping, or ifshe is awake she isn’t out ofbed yet.She is probably pouring herselfa cup ofViennese roast from the thermos he al-ways places at her bedside before leaving with Ruby in the morning.

Daniel and Iris sit at a table near the front window.The youngest of the Koffee Kup waitresses, ponytailed and pierced Becky, brings Daniel a coffee and a glass ofwater, which is what she always does as soon as he sits down.She brings nothing for Iris and seems, in fact, not to register her presence.

“I think we’re going to need another coffee here, Becky,”Daniel says.

Becky looks momentarily confused, and then she turns and looks at Iris as ifseeing her for the first time.

“Oh, sorry,”she says, her voice flat.

”Do you have decaf?”Iris says brightly, smiling.She has a space between her front teeth.

“Do you want decaf?”Becky asks.She heaves a sigh.

”That would be great,”Iris says to Becky.

What Daniel does not see:Iris’s foot is tapping nervously.The waitress’s slight stubbornness about the decafis potential trouble.All Iris wants is for