“I think that’ll be two peach sherbets,” I said.

I went behind the counter to give her a hand. She stuck her arms down into the steaming freezer and I took out two parfait glasses that held about a quart each. I went down into the cupboard looking for the jar of peaches.

“Hey,” she said. “A little excited today, aren’t we?”

I straightened up and took a look at Betty sitting there with her legs crossed, a cigarette in her mouth.

“What do you think of her?” I asked.

“A bit vulgar…”

I took the bottle of maraschino and sprinkled it on the sherbet.

“That’s understandable,” I said. “She’s an angel, straight from heaven. Can’t you see…?”

On the way back we stopped to get the laundry, and I went across the street to pick up the groceries. It must have been about noon-it was starting to get really hot out. We had no time to lose, getting back.

I spotted my bottle right off. He’d left it there in plain sight, in front of the bags. It was not exactly service with a smile-in fact it was hardly service at all. I made off with my bags and bottle.

“You sulking?” I asked him, on the way out.

He didn’t even look at me.

“Too bad,” I said. “You’re the only black spot in my whole day.”

I shoved everything in the back of the truck and steered toward the motel. At the edge of town, a hot wind started blasting. The whole area suddenly looked like a desert-wilted plants and long shadows. I liked it. I liked the color of the dirt, and I’ve always had a thing for large, lonely spaces. We rolled up the windows. I had my foot to the floor, but the car would do only forty-five, what with the head wind. After a while, Betty turned to look out the back. Her hair must have made her hot-she kept lifting it up all the time.