Pendleton liked the pre-quake apartment house Beth lived in. In almost any weather he liked to see its narrow brown wood front waiting there in the middle of the block. He smiled as a big blue-gray gull flew low overhead and then circled up and away behind Beth's building. Pendleton took the rough steps in twos and threes and swung at Beth's bell. There was a folded note for him glued on her mail box lid with Scotch tape. It told him she might be delayed a bit and to get her keys from under the rubber-plant pot on the porch and let himself in. He did that, thinking again that Beth's notes always looked as though she wrote them on horseback. Upstairs he dropped her keys on the small mantle over the small real fireplace. Her bedroom door was slightly open. Just as he noticed this, Beth called out to him. "I hope that's you, Ben?" she said from her room. "Where'll I put the ice, lady?" he said. "You're supposed to be out." "Welcome back. I just got here and I had to change so I left the keys down there in case you got here while I was changing. How was New York?" "Okay, but I'm glad I'm with the agency out here. How'd you get in without keys?" He sat down in the soft tan sofa-chair he'd given her. "I have a key to the kitchen way. Is the show all right now?" "I guess we fixed it for a while. How are you?" "Fine. And, hey, I have a good part in Alex' new play. It just happened and I couldn't write." "You have lousy handwriting, you know," Pendleton called. Grinning, he got out a cigarette and reached into his coat pocket for a book of matches. Something jabbed into the palm of his hand. "It's because I'm so intense," Beth said, near her bedroom door. Pendleton winced and pulled a small toy Chinese junk out of the pocket. The price stamp was still on the bottom of the boat, 25 cents. The old man must have dropped it in his pocket when he nudged him. Beth came up behind him. "It's warm in here. Give me your coat. I have a whole new concept about making martinis. This fellow in Actors' Lab told me. You do it with Zen." Her hands rested on Pendleton's shoulders. "I'll be damned," he said, rubbing his palm with the boat as he stood. Beth slid her arms over his shoulders and locked her hands on his chest. "What's that, Ben?" Pendleton turned around in her hold. He tapped her tanned nose with the toy boat and told her about it. "I suppose I should take it back," he said finally. Beth laughed. "Makes you a receiver of stolen goods." She took the toy boat and walked to the fireplace. She put it next to her keys and turned to him. She was wearing a light blue dress with a flared skirt. No stockings, flat black shoes. She'd cut her blonde hair short since he'd seen her last. "Welcome back," she said, smiling. * * * * *