Main Street was lined by maple trees, almost like one of those towns from 1950s’ movies. Lori was hugging me from behind and gave me a running bylin... to the things I saw: the motel (two-star), the one-room movie house, the diner, and other sightseeing highlights such as Clearwater High School. It was hard for me to understand what life had to be like for a young woman growing up in a small town like this.Once out of town again, Jorgensen took a small dirt road and after a mile we arrived at. “Please, Mae -- I didn’t mean to hurt you.”“I know you didn’t, Len,” she replied.“Here we are.” I parked in the lot and escorted her into the restaurant.Mae slipped out of her puffy jacket and draped it on the back of her chair. Underneath she wore a pale pink blouse. We sat at the table and Mae reviewed the menu. “You might try one of the risotto dishes,” I remarked. “You might enjoy seeing how the Italians deal with rice.”“Len -- this place is expensive.”“Actually, it’s what I’d consider. More

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