"I still don't understand it," Della was saying. "You're walking and talking on the phone at the same time? How can you do that?"

I was in the bike path in Arlington, heading up to Trader Joe's. My cell phone was in my hand and I held it against my ear, chatting. Della and I could go on like that for hours. The only limiting factor were my minutes, along with my arm's ability to hold a phone to either ear for a given length of time.

"What's so hard about that?" I asked.

"Well, don't you get confused?"

That woman had some strange questions. "Now, Della," I replied patiently. "Why would a person get confused walking and talking on a cell phone?"

"Well," Della mused, thinking it over. "I suppose if you can see where you're going it would be easier. Boy, you sure like walking, don't you?"

Della's idea of exercise was a trip downstairs to the fridge. I warned her about putting Omar the Tent Maker's kids through camel-riding school on the weight she would gain by doing that. She just laughed and reminded me that Walter was giving her all the exercise she needed these days. Oh, right. I forgot about him. He was one, randy, fellow - a perfect mate for Della. He had the pen; she had the cap. Together they set about writing novels. I think they'd finished another chapter that morning, or maybe another book. I sighed. "Well, I like to walk."

"Well, if you and Alex..."

"We're married, Della."

"Oh right, forgot. Good for abstinence."

"Besides, I enjoy walking. It's my favorite form of exercise."

"Well, mine is..."

"I know, I know!" I cut her off quickly. Her descriptions would have dropped me in a dead faint right there on the bike path. "Why don't you and Walter come for a walk with me some time?"

"I don't really like to walk," she said. "Guess it's because I can't really see where I'm going. Yes, I can feel the breeze and all, but somehow I don't think it's the same." She sighed. I knew Della missed the sighted world. Minuscule views just didn't cut it. It was a 360 degree world and Della had less than 3% of it left. I could understand her lack of enthusiasm for walks on a beautiful summer day. Still, I wasn't as worried about her as I was in the days before Walter. He was a bawdy clown, but he cared for her. I could leave on vacation and know she was in good hands. They both were, actually. He told me she made him feel like a king. He hadn't enjoyed himself as much with anyone since his wife's passing.

"Alright, then," I said. I'm almost at Trader Joe's. Can I get you anything? And, remember, I'm taking the bus back so no cartons of soda or gallons of ice cream, okay?"

"Walter likes ice cream," she argued. "You could get a little."

"Then you'll eat it, too." Oh God, I didn't want a repeat of that incident: a weekend spent at Della's tending to her extremely annoyed stomach. I gave her a lecture about lactose intolerance and she went right out and bought another quart of ice cream the minute I left. After that I gave up and let her fight her own battles.

"Well, maybe just a little," she admitted. "Okay, so how about some burgers? They have those at Trader Joe's don't they, or is it to 'shi-shi' for ground beef?"

"No, they have burgers. I'll pick you up some. You want the ones that are already seasoned?"

"Nope. I'll do that myself."

A whole onion and a half container of Old Bay Seasoning. I didn't let Della near my meals. Walter didn't mind them, though. In fact, he made her use the entire container of seasoning. That had to be just as bad as the ice cream, I though, although I kept my mouth shut about it. Some things were better left unsaid. "Okay, unseasoned ground beef patties. You want some mushrooms to grill along with them?"

"Mushrooms?" She almost sounded offended. "Are you kidding? Yuck! Who grills mushrooms?"

"Uh, Julia Child, Paul Prudhomme, Julee Rosso, my husband, me, Alice, Dan and Skye..."

"Bet you Smokey doesn't."

"No, she probably would just smear ketchup on the burgers." I rolled my eyes. Smokey's dietary preferences matched Della's own. I worried about that.

"Ketchup's a vegetable! The president said so!"

"Just remember what my mother said about that."

"Which was??"

"Just because someone said it doesn't mean it's true."

Della snorted and returned to the shopping list. "Okay. You can get some burgers, some corn and tomatoes, some potato salad."

"I think I can handle that. But I still want to take you and Walter for a walk sometime soon. Before you both start rolling down the street without a car."

"Oh, don't worry, Maggie, we just spent all morning...uh, exercising."

"And what does Della's talking scale have to tell her?"

"Uh, well..."

"Hah!" I shouted into the phone, at a sufficient volume to turn a few heads in my direction on the bike path. "What's it saying, 'ugh, get off me' or 'diet, now!'?"

"I programmed it to sing a little song about orifices."

"I'll bet you did."

"Really, Maggie, don't worry. Walter'll keep me in shape."

"Really, you work out to old Jack LaLane videos after breakfast?"

"We ARE Jack LaLane videos, my dear. That leg lift on the chair? Ooooh, sweeeeet!"

"Della, Della, Della," I chided. "Even with the exercise you have to lay off the high fat stuff, you and Walter. It's not healthy. Look at me."

"I can't. I'm blind."

I ignored her. It was the best way to proceed with Della sometimes. "I eat a low fat diet. I exercise regularly. I don't have a cheese curl or can of Diet Coke in my house. If I'm thirsty I drink water."

"Well, that sounds like fun," Della intoned. "Hey, get a sex life. If might make up for the boring food."

"My sex life is not boring!"

"Your sex life is non-existent! How much more boring than nothing is that? Oh, excuse, I forgot what you usually eat. I guess compared to that it's pretty exciting. You get to dream about all that stuff. Exercise the imagination, too."

"Just for that, no potato salad!" I was at the base of a set of wooden stairs leading up to Massachusetts Avenue and Trader Joe's. I started up. "And my sex life is not non-existent. It's just, uh, muted" More glances from passers-by. I ignored them, too.

"Yes, yes, you're married. Once the ring goes on, the dick falls down. Must be a call and answer kinda thing. Too bad you can't at least get a good night's sleep."

I was at the head of the stairs, ready to sign off and start my shopping. "Okay, Della, got to go, I said. Now you be good. Don't put anything into your mouth that I wouldn't

"Oh, girl, Walter is NOT going to be happy with that advice."

"You know what I'm talking about!" My face was flaming, from embarrassment or pique I just couldn't tell, though. "You need to eat healthy!"

"Oh, honey, there ain't nothin' unhealthy about what's going into my mouth these days. Doing it that way keeps me from getting pregnant."

I decided it was time to quit before I fell further behind in this conversation. "Okay, Della. You go bonk your boy (more glances) and I'll pick up your groceries."

"Yes, you do that, Maggie. And I'll do the same, now that I've got your blessing."

"You two have a great time."

"We always have a great time." That was true. And, truth to tell, I was glad of it.

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