Part 44 (1/2)
Or, condescendingly, Susan wondered, Susan wondered, at a stupid female who doesn't have enough brains to check the oil? Well, if that's it, I deserve it. Not checking the oil was stupid. at a stupid female who doesn't have enough brains to check the oil? Well, if that's it, I deserve it. Not checking the oil was stupid.
Matt put the oil in. It took three quarts, and half of a fourth.
”It was just a little low, I would say,” Matt said.
”Okay. You were right and I was wrong. I've had a lot on my mind lately, I guess, and just didn't check.”
”I have a sister who does the same sort of thing,” he said with a smile.
”Anyway, thank you.”
”You're welcome,” he said. ”Can I make a request?”
”Request.”
”A truce until after dinner? Hostilities can resume immediately after the second cup of coffee.”
”Okay,” she said after a just perceptible hesitation.
Why not? What's playing the b.i.t.c.h with him going to accomplish?
”Deal?” Matt asked.
He put out his hand and, without thinking about it, she took it. His hand was warm and strong.
”Deal,” Susan said. She was aware her voice sounded strange.
”Good,” he said. ”Then pay the man, fair maiden, and we'll be on our way.”
He got behind the wheel and closed the door.
”What makes you think I'm going to let you drive?” Susan demanded.
”Because we are in a state of truce,” Matt replied. ”And also maybe because you are grateful I kept you from running out of gas.”
Why not? Same reason as before.
She gave the attendant her credit card, signed the form, and got in beside him. She was a trifle amused at the care with which he adjusted the driver's seat.
He pulled out of the station, and she saw that he was better working the gears than she was.
”Where are we going?” she asked.
”To the only decent restaurant I know around here. Except, of course, the Penn-Harris. They gave me a very nice breakfast. My lunch was a disaster.”
”Where is this only decent restaurant?”
”Little town called Hershey,” Matt said. ”They make chocolate there, you know.”
”I don't want to go all the way out to Hershey.”
”Not to worry, fair maiden. We now have a full tank of petrol. And I'm driving.”
Susan elected not to make an issue of it.
He got on U.S. 422 and immediately pushed harder on the accelerator.
”You're going to get a ticket,” Susan said.
”Fear not, fair maiden.”
The speedometer was indicating seventy-five when there was the sound of a siren and the image of the flas.h.i.+ng lights of a bubble-gum machine on a state trooper's car in the rearview mirror.
Matt immediately slowed, but did not pull off the highway onto the shoulder. The state trooper pulled alongside. Matt held his identification folder up for the trooper to see.
The trooper made a slow-it-down gesture. Matt nodded his willingness to do so. The trooper's car slowed and fell behind. Susan turned and looked out the window. The trooper had pulled his car off the road, and was about to make a U-turn back toward Harrisburg.
Back to give a ticket to some ordinary citizen for going five miles over the speed limit.
”That's outrageous!” Susan said indignantly.
”That's what's known as professional courtesy,” Matt said. ”You know, like sharks don't eat lawyers?”
”It's an abuse of power!”
”It's legal,” he said. ”Traffic officers have the option of issuing a citation or a warning. He opted to give me a warning.”
”Jesus!” she said in contempt.
Five minutes later, with the speedometer indicating sixty-five-fifteen miles over the posted limit-Matt said: ”I really like the smell in here. And I am not talking about the leather.”
Susan didn't reply.
He drove into the town of Hershey. The delightful smell of cocoa beans overwhelmed the smell of her perfume, and he told her so.
”That may not be a bad thing,” he said. ”Have you ever thought of rubbing a Hershey bar behind your ears? Or someplace more feminine? You might be able to save some money that way. What you're wearing has to be awfully expensive.”
”No,” she said as sternly as she could manage. But she had to smile.
He pulled into the parking lot behind the Hotel Hershey.
Susan started to open the door.
”Wait a minute,” Matt ordered.
She turned and looked at him, and obediently slumped back into her seat.
He turned, so that his back was resting on the door. His hand and arm came to rest on the back of her seat. She could feel the warmth of his hand.
But it's not as if he's trying to put his arm around me or pull me over to him or anything.