A couple of harmless hours with John Harley, Lauren rationalized, would at least provide an opportunity to get some of her Mormon questions answered. Although she was reluctant to admit it,
even to herself, she was also a bit intrigued by Harley, a Mormon so different from Pratt Toomey that the two might have been separate species. She agreed to accompany him someplace for what he called breakfast.
Harley explained that there were only a few places open all night in Salt Lake City, which severely limited the collection points for the drunks who spilled from the clubs when the bars closed. Bill and Nada's
was Harley's personal favorite.
Although Lauren accepted Harley's offer of midnight breakfast, she declined his offer of a ride. She climbed into her sister's cranky Rabbit
and followed Harley's Ford Escort, which was belching blue smoke, to Bill & Nada's. Her shoulders ached and she quickly decided she would gladly trade her sister's car for a good
Bill and Nada's was an aging shack with ample parking out front and friendly, nonjudgmental people inside. The coffee was hot, the food either white-bread plain and reliable
or downright eccentric, like brains and eggs, veal heart, and pig's tongue. The decor was an eclectic mix of western kitsch and the owners' collections of ethnic oddities from around the world. In the high
desert of Utah, Bill and Nada's was an oasis for the underdog.