Caucasian woman, late 40s, with short, salt and pepper hair, wearing blacks and greys. She doesn’t get more than a few words at a time before she looks up for a seat, an inner seat. She’s heading to the end of the line.
All Night Long, Jayne Ann Krentz (Jove)
Near the beginning:
“Boy howdy,” Jason said enthusiastically. “Do you cook, Miss Stenson?”
“I’ll have you know that you are looking at the reporter who is single-handedly responsible for selecting every recipe that runs in the Recipe Exchange column of the Glaston Cove Beacon.”
Jason grinned. “Should I be impressed?”
“You would be more than impressed, you would be stunned speechless if you saw some of the recipes I’ve rejected. Trust me, you’re better off going through life never knowing what some people can do with lime-flavored gelatin and red kidney beans.”
Growing up, they never ate anything from a can. It was always fresh produce, fresh meat. Not even chicken broth for a casserole. Then came the winter dinner was more often than not beans from a can, pasta from a can, chili or stew from a can. The television boasted soups that ate like meals, men waging wars over the choice between a spoon and a fork. She was just a child. She thought an electric can opener would have been the perfect Christmas gift for her hardworking mother.
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