watch his sarcasm mold into something
dark.
“It’s what most small towns live for. Harmony’s no
different.”
“I take it that’s why you’re not a sports fan.”
“Up ahead. Park in the side lot,” he directed, his tone
passive, avoiding the implied question.
I didn’t pry. I never did. He could count on that from
me.
W e stood in the center of what was ludicrously
called The Diner, though it was housed in an old brick building and had nothing
in common with how I pictured an actual diner. It was more along the lines of a
midcentury brothel, but with no women and a rancid odor of wet mold. The
blistering deep-red paint on the walls provided a backdrop for old black-and-white
photos of the building’s glory days.
“Are you fucking kidding me? How is this place not
condemned?” I asked Caleb, my voice hushed but not enough. I ignored the gasps
and penetrating stares from the table next to us.
“He’s joking,” Caleb laughed, apologizing for me. He
turned back, slugging me in the gut.
“Sorry.” I shrugged. I couldn’t help it—the place was an
eyesore, and held not a single patron under sixty.
We headed toward the cash register, maneuvering among
scattered tables of every shape, size, and color, their unmatched upholstered
chairs frayed and soiled.
“This place has been around forever,” Caleb said, looking
around with admiration.
Were we seeing the same things?
“Josh! Hey!” Caleb called to the guy who stepped out from
the back.
I dropped my head to hide the snicker fighting to escape.
The guy appeared our age, despite the letterman jacket and baggy jeans that
gave him an awkward gait.
“Caleb! Finally, man. I still can’t believe it.” Josh dumped
the empty tray in his hands onto a table and rushed over, pulling Caleb in for
a one-armed hug.
I couldn’t picture the Caleb I’d gotten to know over the
past couple years growing up there. He never talked about the town other than
having shared a few scarce memories about him and his younger brother. Looking
at him now with his so-called high-school buddy, he looked just as out of place
as I did.
“Yeah, it’s been too long. This is Logan,” Caleb said,
and they both pivoted to look at me. “He’s a friend.”
I extended my hand and Josh shook it with an overeager,
loose grip. “So this is your place?” I shot my gaze once around the room again.
Josh nodded with a smile.
“Nice,” I replied, pulling on the friendliest expression
I could muster.
I wasn’t sure whether I should hate him for serving those
poor people anything out of that kitchen or admire his persistence to keep the
place going. Either way, he wasn’t the smartest guy businesswise—that much was
clear. And the whole ‘Any friend of Caleb’s is a friend of mine’ had never
applied to us. I reminded myself I was there to have a good time, but it didn’t
set in.
His cheerfulness wavered as he gauged the sincerity of my
compliment.
“How’s the profit in this place?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
If it was the only restaurant in town, it could be worth something.
Caleb’s hand slammed down on my shoulder. “Don’t mind
Logan. He’s all work until you give him a reason to play. I explained you were
setting everything up tonight. Tell me you called in some of the girls I
remember from around here.”
He shook his head, throwing me a wary sidelong glance. “Nah,
most of the girls from high school either left town, got married, or got fat,
but…”
“Better be a damn good ‘but,’” Caleb panned.
“I think you’ll be pretty happy. We got some fresh young
girls at the college to keep us entertained.”
The scowl I failed to hide deepened. Julia would be one
of those girls soon, but luckily she wouldn’t be that senseless. “College
girls, huh?” I threw out, unimpressed.
“Young and looking to have fun. They’re always out
prowling for older men, and tonight they’ll be at the poker game.” He grabbed two
menus from behind the
dark.
“It’s what most small towns live for. Harmony’s no
different.”
“I take it that’s why you’re not a sports fan.”
“Up ahead. Park in the side lot,” he directed, his tone
passive, avoiding the implied question.
I didn’t pry. I never did. He could count on that from
me.
W e stood in the center of what was ludicrously
called The Diner, though it was housed in an old brick building and had nothing
in common with how I pictured an actual diner. It was more along the lines of a
midcentury brothel, but with no women and a rancid odor of wet mold. The
blistering deep-red paint on the walls provided a backdrop for old black-and-white
photos of the building’s glory days.
“Are you fucking kidding me? How is this place not
condemned?” I asked Caleb, my voice hushed but not enough. I ignored the gasps
and penetrating stares from the table next to us.
“He’s joking,” Caleb laughed, apologizing for me. He
turned back, slugging me in the gut.
“Sorry.” I shrugged. I couldn’t help it—the place was an
eyesore, and held not a single patron under sixty.
We headed toward the cash register, maneuvering among
scattered tables of every shape, size, and color, their unmatched upholstered
chairs frayed and soiled.
“This place has been around forever,” Caleb said, looking
around with admiration.
Were we seeing the same things?
“Josh! Hey!” Caleb called to the guy who stepped out from
the back.
I dropped my head to hide the snicker fighting to escape.
The guy appeared our age, despite the letterman jacket and baggy jeans that
gave him an awkward gait.
“Caleb! Finally, man. I still can’t believe it.” Josh dumped
the empty tray in his hands onto a table and rushed over, pulling Caleb in for
a one-armed hug.
I couldn’t picture the Caleb I’d gotten to know over the
past couple years growing up there. He never talked about the town other than
having shared a few scarce memories about him and his younger brother. Looking
at him now with his so-called high-school buddy, he looked just as out of place
as I did.
“Yeah, it’s been too long. This is Logan,” Caleb said,
and they both pivoted to look at me. “He’s a friend.”
I extended my hand and Josh shook it with an overeager,
loose grip. “So this is your place?” I shot my gaze once around the room again.
Josh nodded with a smile.
“Nice,” I replied, pulling on the friendliest expression
I could muster.
I wasn’t sure whether I should hate him for serving those
poor people anything out of that kitchen or admire his persistence to keep the
place going. Either way, he wasn’t the smartest guy businesswise—that much was
clear. And the whole ‘Any friend of Caleb’s is a friend of mine’ had never
applied to us. I reminded myself I was there to have a good time, but it didn’t
set in.
His cheerfulness wavered as he gauged the sincerity of my
compliment.
“How’s the profit in this place?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
If it was the only restaurant in town, it could be worth something.
Caleb’s hand slammed down on my shoulder. “Don’t mind
Logan. He’s all work until you give him a reason to play. I explained you were
setting everything up tonight. Tell me you called in some of the girls I
remember from around here.”
He shook his head, throwing me a wary sidelong glance. “Nah,
most of the girls from high school either left town, got married, or got fat,
but…”
“Better be a damn good ‘but,’” Caleb panned.
“I think you’ll be pretty happy. We got some fresh young
girls at the college to keep us entertained.”
The scowl I failed to hide deepened. Julia would be one
of those girls soon, but luckily she wouldn’t be that senseless. “College
girls, huh?” I threw out, unimpressed.
“Young and looking to have fun. They’re always out
prowling for older men, and tonight they’ll be at the poker game.” He grabbed two
menus from behind the
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