Before we really started talking over shared crab cakes and ice water Madeline was distracted.  "Do you smell that?" 

     "The crab cakes?" 

     She dialed into the restaurant and zero'd in on the source of the smell.  "I'll be right back," she said and wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin and tucked it under her plate.  Then she crossed the room and approached the piano. 

     A man was standing near the pianist, talking and smoking.  "Excuse me," Madeline said.  He didn't turn around or stop talking so she tapped him on the shoulder.  "Excuse me, but"

     "Ye-ass?" The man turned and asked.

     "But this is a no smoking zone." 

     "Oh it is?" The man took a drag and asked in a mouthful of smoke. 

     "Yes, since Thursday." 

     "Oh, I see." The man sucked hard at the cigarette. 

     "Look around.  No ashtrays.  Nobody else (i)smoking(i)." 

     "Well, I guess so," he said when he looked around.  "I'll see you there," he emphatically taped the top of the piano with an open hand like it was a baby's butt.  And left. 

     "Just a fan," the pianist said.

     Madeline came back to the table and put her napkin back on her lap and explained how she hated that people smoke.  Because people die from smoking.  And they'd worked really hard to get the restaurant to agree to no smoking.  Later in the night she had a visit from the chef who went and got the GM who crossed his arms and said, "No, we really haven't lost all our customers," as Madeline considered the bill and tip.

     She reported to me that she was receiving "strange reports" from down South where we'd all been.  I slurped my water to get down a bite of crab cake and think to myself, "Hmmmm...what should I say or not say?" And kept drinking the water as she started peppering me with questions.

    "It saddens me," she said as I stabbed at a crab cake with a three-tyned fork.  "It does?" 

     "And," 

     "Yes?" 

     "Do you know where the mule is?" 

     "I did." I stuffed most of the crabcake into my mouth and chewed real slow.

     "Did?"  She folded her napkin slow and tucked it under the plate again.  "They're moving it around.  Like a lot of things.  Drugs and women and children, weapons, and, and," she was waving a man in a suit over to the table, "And even our Nationsl Guard!" 

     Both people looked at me out of a quick greeting embrace.