I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. Hopefully, we can talk to her, straighten it all out.”
“Then maybe you and I can have a talk, too,” said Hans. “We have some things of our own to straighten out, don’t we?”
Now it was me who rubbed my chin and looked off at the wall.
Hans put a hand on my arm. “But that can wait, I suppose. Let’s go find Austin, see if he’s gotten any more news on Betty.”
The lodge receptionist had told Austin that whatever news he wanted about Betty, he could get it straight from her. She was out of the hospital and insisted on getting back to work immediately. We decided we would have a celebration at the lodge after all—a dinner with Jake’s friends, with me and Hans and all the models too. A dinner prepared by Betty, with plenty of wine Matty assured me.
Hans and the models all said they were too tired to join us. I tried to insist, but Hans gave me a wink and said, “Maybe next time.” We did, however, go down to the dining room together to see Betty.
As soon as we stepped into the dining room, Hans stopped, turned to me, and said, “We should have gotten her flowers.”
“Flowers? Didn’t she attack you?”
Hans shrugged. “Yeah, but she’s just been released from the hospital. Aren’t you supposed to give someone flowers when they get out of the hospital?”
“I don’t think that applies if the person tried to attack you,” I said. “Plus, I think flowers are for when a person is at the hospital, not out of the hospital.”
He snapped his fingers and shook his head. “We missed that chance, didn’t we?”
I nudged him with my shoulder. “Maybe next time.”
Betty was all smiles and full of energy. She greeted us and talked to us like we were old friends. It was strange - even for Betty.
“We’re really glad to see you’re doing better,” said Hans.
“Oh, and I am!” said Betty. “I haven’t felt this good in years.” She was chopping up an onion as she spoke, and I had a hard time taking my eyes off the big chef’s knife she was manipulating. She waved it around in the air as she spoke. “I hope you youngsters are hungry. I’m making a special dish—rabbit in wine and garlic sauce, with pasta and mashed potatoes—all the trimmings.”
“Sounds delicious,” I lied.
“Betty?” said Hans. “I was worried, you know - worried that there might have been some kind of misunderstanding. If there’s anything we did to upset you—”
She put the knife down, tilted her head, and smiled. “Oh, aren’t you sweet? You didn’t do anything. You’re a little angel, aren’t you?”
“It’s just that,” Hans started. “Well, you were quite upset.”
“At my age,” she said, picking her knife back up and chopping away at the already finely chopped onions. “Well, you’ll have to forgive me.” She tapped her temple with the but of the knife. “Old Betty’s not always right. Happens to old people, you know.”
“But—” Hans started, leaving his thoughts unfinished.
“Sometimes Betty doesn’t know what she’s doing,” she said. “But I’m all better now.”
“We’re very glad to see that,” said Hans.
Betty tilted her head and smiled again. She put her hand to her heart, the blade of the chef knife pointing up to her chin. “Betty’s so happy to hear you say that. You do forgive me, then, about how I reacted? I was so foolish, so disoriented. I’m an old woman, you know? I have my moments, senior moments, but I’m all right, now.”
I put a hand on Hans’s arm and gently pulled him back toward the door. “That’s all we wanted to know,” I said. “We were worried about you.”
“Oh, sweety, that’s kind of you worrying about old Betty. But Betty’s fine now. You will be coming for supper?”
“Actually,” I said, “there’ll be seven of us.”
“Dining with those colleagues of yours? That’s good.”
“Not them,” I said and chuckled. “Actually, I’ll be bringing some friends.”
“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows. “I hope these friends of yours come with an appetite.” Then, looking at Hans, she added, “You ever had rabbit in wine sauce with garlic?”
Hans shook his head. “I can’t say that I have.”
“Well, you’re going to love it,” she said. “Betty makes the best rabbit in wine sauce in all of Montana.”
“I wish I could be there,” said Hans.
Betty stopped mid chop, looked at Hans, and pointed her knife at him. “But you will be here. You’re coming for dinner, you and your sister and your friends.”
Hans smiled sheepishly and shook his head. “I’m afraid I’m beat. It was such a long day. I’m going straight to bed.”
“Straight to bed without your supper?” She went back to chopping, and at double speed this time. “Oh, no. You mustn’t do that. You simply must come with your sister and your friends. I’m making rabbit with wine and garlic sauce.”