I WAS GLAD the rental place wasn"t near, so I had time to do what I"d planned. I drove out of the ritzy neighborhood, and headed to my old job, Cindy"s Cozy Kitchen in an offbeat residential-small shop section not far from K Street. I parked and ran across the street. With a deep breath, I walked in to the late lunch crowd. An older woman asked if I wanted a seat, as she swept a table clear of the most recent occupant"s presence. I told her I was supposed to meet someone, but I was late.
I WAS GLAD“Are you Cindy?” I asked.
“There is no Cindy. She"s long gone. This is my place. So what do you want to do?”
“I"ll try to find my friend. Maybe I"ll be back.”
“What"s your name? If someone is looking, I"ll let them know you were here.”
“Fritz Russell. My friend might say Russ. Thanks.”
My n
