Grant and I stared at them too, fascinated. They were even and pretty, a fragile pink-and-white toy in her big, roughened hands.
"Seems like it makes me feel better to look at 'em," she confessed. "Makes it so I ain't so lonesome for Rodney. That's my hubby. He gave me these teeth, for our tenth weddin' anniversary. I was gonna get some cheap old ugly things, but he said no, the best wasn't none too good for his girl, and so he bought 'em for me. They're the--the nicest thing I ever had in my life!"
Tears were pouring out of Mrs. Watkins' lovely dark eyes, streaming over the flushed, coarse skin of her cheeks. "Cripes, I wisht Rodney was here!" she sobbed.
"I'd settle for Doctor Adams," Grant said. He glanced again at his watch. '"He should be here by now. I wonder if his car could have broken down?"
"Maybe--maybe you should go look for him," I said hesitantly.
"I think I will." Grant moved toward the door. "I'll call his home first, and if he's been gone awhile I'll start out looking for him."
Mrs. Watkins replaced her teeth, wiped her eyes, and beamed at me.
"I'm awful moody, an awful sentimental," she admitted.
Eugene edged to the door behind Grant.
"I'm gonna go with him, ma. 'Bye, ma'am."