Z. Packer - Drinking Coffee Elsewhere

“My daughter’s over at Iroquois.”

“We played them last Friday.” Doris didn’t know what the scores were, didn’t care, but had heard about the game over the intercom.

“Well.” The waitress started wiping the counter again, going over the same spots.

When Doris closed her book, about to leave, she said, “I just want you to know I’m leaving now. Not because you’re making me or because I feel intimidated or anything. I just have to get home now.”

The waitress looked at her.

“Next time I’ll want some food, all right?”

“We can’t do that, but here’s half my shake. You can have it. I’m done.”

The shake she handed over had a lipstick ring around the straw, and a little spittle. Doris knew she wouldn’t drink it, but she took it anyway. “Thanks, ma’am.”

OUTSIDE Clovee’s Five and Dime, the world was cold around her, moving toward dark, but not dark yet, as if the darkness were being adjusted with a volume dial. Whoever was adjusting the dial was doing it slowly, consistently, with infinite patience. She walked back home and knew it would be too late for dinner, and the boys would be screaming and her father wanting his daily beer, and her mother worried sick. She knew that she should hurry, but she couldn’t. She had to stop and look. The sky had just turned her favorite shade of barely lit blue, the kind that came to windows when you couldn’t get back to sleep but couldn’t quite pry yourself awake.

This collection would not have been possible without support from the Rona Jaffe Foundation, the Mrs. Giles Whiting Foundation, the Wallace Stegner/Truman Capote Fellowship program, and the MacDowell Colony. Much love to my two families, the Northing-tons and the Packers, both of whom raise storytelling to an art.

Many thanks to my mentors at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop: Frank Conroy for his ever-vigilant eye; Marilynne Robinson for her infinite wisdom; Stuart Dybek for his unflagging support and friendship; and James Alan McPherson, who is an example to us all.

I am forever in the debt of Connie Brothers, Deb West, and Paul Meintel, all of whom preserved my sanity and made Iowa a happier, brighter place. John Barth, Stephen Dixon, and Allen Grossman at Johns Hopkins University were incredible models of how to live a “writer’s life.” Special thanks to Francine Prose for her sharp wit and constant support.

John L’Heureux, Tobias Wolff, and Elizabeth Tallent at Stanford were invaluable to me in revising this manuscript. Thanks also to Gay Pierce, who kept the Stegner program running smoothly.

My thanks to friends and peers who have read these stories in their numerous incarnations: Julie Orringer, Edward Schwartz-child, Adam Johnson, Bridget Garrity, Doug Dorst, Ron Nyren, Malinda McCollum, Katherine Noel, Lysley Tenorio, Jack Livings, Otis Haschenmeyer, Rick Barot, Jane Rosenzweig, Carrie Messenger, Brian Teare, and the glorious Salvatore Scibona.

Thanks to Mara Folz for being my first reader and fan; to Felicia Ward for those many “writing dates.” Faith Adiele, LJ Jesse, Angela Pneuman, Cate Marvin, and my sister Jamila are the best friends a girl can have.

Special thanks to the fine editors at The New Yorker , Cressida Leyshon and Bill Buford, who took a chance on a young unknown; to Colin Harrison and Barbara Jones at Harper’s; and last but not least, to the wise and intrepid Lois Rosenthal at Story .

Finally, heartfelt thanks to the wonderful Eric Simonoff, who does triple duty as agent, reader, and friend; to Venetia van Kuffeler, the fab assistant to my editor at Riverhead, Cindy Spiegel, whose time, patience, and skill made this book what it is; and to Michael Boros, without whose love I wouldn’t be.

Grateful acknowledgment is made to the following magazines, where these stories first appeared, some in a slightly different form: Harper’s : “Brownies”; Ploughshares : “Every Tongue Shall Confess”; Story : “Our Lady of Peace”; The New Yorker : “The Ant of the Self,” “Drinking Coffee Elsewhere”; Zoetrope All-Story : “Doris Is Coming.”

“Brownies” also appeared in The Best American Short Stories 2000 ; “Our Lady of Peace” in Symphony Space’s Selected Shorts ; “Drinking Coffee Elsewhere” in Here Lies, edited by David Gilbert; “Speaking in Tongues” in The Workshop: Seven Decades of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop , edited by Tom Grimes. “Geese” originally appeared in Twenty-five and Under .