Night Shifts Black (6 page)

Day
Seven.

“You’re late today,” I observe.

“Am I?”

Luke takes off his
jacket and slings it over the back of the chair.

“I thought we make our
own hours,” he argues.

He’s got a point.

“I thought you like to
beat the admiring horde traffic.”

I have one, too.

“Fair enough. I had a
late night.”

“Anything
interesting?”

I was joking, but he’s
not, and looks away. “No. Couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs and stares
back at the menu like he hasn’t practically memorized it by now. I know I have.
We need something to study when we don’t want to look at each other or the
chair. I like the “Breakfast All Day” insert. He seems to prefer the senior
specials. I have no idea why. Then it occurs to me that when he buries himself
in the menu he doesn’t actually read it like I do. I wonder if he even notices
his gaze tends to linger on the senior specials. I decide to find out.

“You know, you have to
be over 55 to order from that page.”

He clears his throat,
and I can actually see the moment when his eyes change from vacant to focused.

“I’m sure they’d let
me, I just wouldn’t get the discounted pricing.”

“That’s true. And to
be honest, I bet Ailee would overlook the age restriction and still give you
the discount.”

“Ailee?”

I motion toward the
hostess station. She’s not watching us. At least, not at this second. But she was
before we looked because there is no other way to explain the awkward way she
leans against the counter in the opposite direction she should be facing.

“I don’t think I’ve
ever seen a person do such a complete 180 before. You were a thorn in her side
a few days ago.”

“I still am,
probably.”

“Yeah, sure. A thorn from
a beautiful fragrant rose she will dip in gold and hang above her bed.”

“That’s disturbing on so
many levels.”

“Maybe. But am I
wrong?”

He glances over at her
discreetly and smiles.

“I bet she saves your
receipts,” I continue.

“She wouldn’t be the
first.”

“It’s memories and an
autograph all in one.”

“Nah, just memories. I
pay in cash.”

“To avoid leaving an
autograph?”

“To avoid having my credit
card stolen.”

“True. Yours would
probably be more tempting than mine.”

He smiles again. A
crafty one this time. I haven’t seen that one before. “Yeah, maybe, but they’d be
disappointed.”

“Why’s that?”

“I only have a
thousand dollar limit on the card I use for this type of stuff.”

“That’s smart.”

“I said I was silly,
not stupid.”

“Yeah, about that.
Does silly mean the same thing in South Africa that it means here?”

“Frivolous.”

“Ok, fine. Although,
for the record, it can also kind of mean stupid.”

“I was making a point.”

“I know, sorry. I just
struggle to see you as silly. Either definition.”

“You wouldn’t have a
year ago.”

“When you were the
life of the party.”

“When everything was a
joke and I refused to take life seriously.”

“A lot of people are
like that.”

“Silly people.”

“Scared people.”

He quiets. I struck
something.

“You sound like a
psychiatrist.”

“I’m sensing that. And
how does that make you feel?”

His grin is genuine this
time, and I relax. Nothing personal. I keep forgetting that.

“So just to be clear,
you’re paying for the coffee today, right?” he asks.

“I don’t know if I can
risk it. I have more than a thousand dollar credit limit on my card.”

He glances at Ailee.
“I think you’re good.”

Day
Eight.

Luke isn’t alone today. At first I’m
disappointed and wish I could disappear into the floor. I begin to anticipate
the embarrassment when he will pause on his way by, apologize, and strand me at
our table by myself.

I brace myself as he
approaches, my mind trying to formulate a response that can help preserve my
dignity by some impossible miracle. I can almost feel our morning audience’s curiosity
about how the drama will unfold.

“Callie.”

“Luke.”

“This is Casey.”

“Hi. I’m Casey.”

Luke rolls his eyes
and pulls out his chair. My breath returns when I realize I haven’t been
rejected, I’ve been included.

I have trouble tearing
my eyes away from Luke, like always, but I also realize there’s a limited
window to evaluate Casey while he’s distracted with his own chair. He’s dressed
like Luke. Same styled hair that’s meant to look like it’s not. Monochrome tattoos,
jeans from some high-end store I don’t have access to. An air of confidence
bred by more than unjustified ego. Casey has to be a band-mate.

Ailee is probably
hyperventilating right now.

“Do you always get up
this early?” Casey asks, a little teasing and a lot serious.

Luke shrugs. “If you come
later you don’t get to eat. You know how it is once you’re spotted.”

Casey seems to
understand, but I get the sense he’s not as bothered by the intrusive attention
as Luke. Casey didn’t walk away from celebrity. Casey might still be silly. Casey
doesn’t have a ghost chair.

“Welcome to our
breakfast club,” I say, mostly because if I don’t say something soon I will
lose my status in the group. I don’t want to be downgraded to Luke’s diner sidekick.

“Yeah, Luke was
telling me about your little breakfast club. Pretty crazy story.”

It is, but I don’t
want to discuss it. I don’t know Casey yet. “Then I’m sure he also told you
about how incredibly witty and smart I am. I’m great company.”

Casey grins and casts
a look at Luke that I don’t miss. “He’s told me some things,” he responds
cryptically.

Surprised, I watch
Luke, figuring I’ll get more information out of his response. Sure enough he
doesn’t look happy about his friend’s confession. And of course, now I have to
wonder what “things” Casey was told.

“How about you not be
a jerk for twenty seconds,” Luke mutters, and Casey’s grin only widens. Our
guest turns to me.

“Don’t let his puppy
dog eyes and sob-story fool you. This man is no boy scout.”

“Casey, not now.”

“What? I know you, dude.
You get lost in your head and shut down.”

Now, Luke is very
upset. “Will you stop? It’s not your business. Not now!”

We’re starting to get
more attention, and Casey’s smile falters. “I’m just looking out for you. You
have to move on. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. You screwed up. We all
do. That doesn’t mean everything that happens from that point on is your fault.”

Luke’s eyes narrow,
and I think they might bore a hole through his friend’s brain.

“You agree with me,
right?” Casey continues, drawing me into this for some reason. “He needs to
stop punishing himself. It’s been a year. He can’t torture himself forever.”

“Casey!”

“What? I’m just…”

“She doesn’t know,”
Luke hisses.

Casey looks startled.
“What?”

“She doesn’t know,
ok?” Luke repeats, and now we all feel miserable.

An awkward silence
follows.

Casey figures out
there’s a menu he can pretend to read, but isn’t good at that yet. He turns the
pages too fast and doesn’t move his eyes enough. Luke abandons decorum altogether
and glares through the restaurant, seemingly irate at some offense of the coatrack.
For my part, I’m both haunted and fascinated by the new clues into Luke’s story
and almost forget about my companions as I try to piece them together with the
old ones.

Casey gives up on the
menu. “Hey, man, I’m sorry. I just thought, I don’t know, after everything you
said about her. I thought you were closer.”

Luke gives him a sharp
look, and I catch my breath. I’m not sure what to do with that. Luke’s not
either, and Casey finally catches on that he’s trying to tame a fire with
gasoline.

“Um…ok, I’m gonna shut
up now.”

“That would be a good
idea.”

I need to intervene or
this is going to be a disaster and I can’t afford for that to happen. I can’t
be part of a circle that doesn’t exist.

“So, Casey. Are you in
Night Shifts Black, too?”

Casey seems surprised
at first, then the grin returns. Even Luke cracks a smile so I know I’m
hilarious, but I don’t get the joke.

“What? What did I
say?”

Luke shakes his head.
“Nothing. You’re fine. It’s just a funny question.”

“Why’s it funny?”

Luke shrugs. “I don’t
know. It’s not, I mean, it’s just that we’re not used to hearing stuff like that
except from old people trying to be nice at charity events.”

“Remember the Morning
Star Senior’s Ball?” Casey laughs.

Luke’s eyes ignite. “Don’t!”

Casey ignores him. “So
there’s this lady with a, what was that thing again? I don’t know, some huge
hat and boa thing. Anyway…”

“Case!” Luke turns to
me. “She had good intentions.”

“She thought he was
the one benefiting from the charity because of the ‘dreadful condition of his
clothing!’”

“I was wearing $300
jeans and a Julian Salitoni jacket.”

Casey smacks the table
as his laughter hits a new decibel. “Oh man, I just about died when that
happened. Dude, she was ready to take you home and give you a hot shower and cot
in her living room.”

I squint over at Luke
and do an appraisal of my own. “I don’t know. I kind of see it. I mean, there’s
the messy hair, and the jeans may be $300 but they look like they’re one wash
away from disintegrating. Your t-shirt could definitely use a bit of mending.
I’d slip you a twenty as long as you promised not to buy booze with it.”

Luke grins, and
there’s a strange dynamic heat that pulses through me. “I never would have promised
that.”

I sit back and give
them a wry look. “Ok, fine, so I’m guessing what I’m supposed to take away from
this little tale is that it’s not often you encounter people under seventy-five
who don’t know who you are.”

“Only because we don’t
have time to come in contact with those people.” Casey realizes his mistake too
late. I’m one of those people. “Well, you do, apparently,” he says to Luke, and
I’m not sure how that fixes anything.

Luke doesn’t seem
bothered by the comment, which surprises me.

I jump in anyway. “Alright,
fine, so I get it. You’re a super famous rock star in Night Shifts Black. Then
can I ask what you play? Or should I already know that, too?”

“Now, I get why you
like her. She knows nothing about us, does she?”

Luke’s grin returns.
“Nope.”

I don’t know if I’m
blushing, but still manage to give them a stern look. “So, what, I’m supposed
to grovel at your feet because you’re big rock gods? Sorry if I was the only
person on this planet who didn’t know that.”

“No, but now that you
know, you should be groveling,” Casey teases.

“Oh boy,” Luke mutters.

I raise my eyebrows.
“Really? What if I’m the princess of Tanzania? Maybe you should be groveling at
my feet.”

“If you’re really the
princess of Tanzania, I will. You’d have to prove it, though.”

“Prove you’re in Night
Shifts Black.”

Casey turns to Luke.
“Am I in Night Shifts Black?”

Luke holds up his
hands. “I’m not getting involved in this one. You’re on your own.”

“You’re not involved. You’re
just verifying a fact.”

Luke looks to me.

“It’s ok. He’s right.
You can answer his question.”

He sighs. “Fine. Yes, Casey
plays drums in Night Shifts Black.”

Casey leans back and
crosses his arms, a satisfied smirk on this face. “Ok, there you go. Now, it’s
your turn, princess.”

I clear my throat and
turn to Luke. “Am I the princess of Tanzania?”

This time I get Luke’s
real laugh, and my own grin breaks.

“Yes, she is,” he
replies, clearly amused.

I turn to Casey and
shrug. “There you have it.”

“Why do I feel like
I’ve been conned?”

“You haven’t been
conned, just out-voted,” I return.

“Ha, fine. This is all
breakfast club politics. I get it.”

“There are no politics
involved until you order. We only judge based on food selections here.”

Luke signals Darryn.
The servers at Jemma’s have learned not to bother us until we’re ready. We
pretend we’re being respectful of their time, but really they don’t want to
confront Luke before they get the all clear that he’s not nuts that day.

“Coffee, please,” Luke
says, and Darryn nods.

“What about you?” Darryn
asks Casey.

“Yeah, coffee’s good.”

“Tea for you?” he asks
me.

“Yes, please.”

“You guys eating
today?”

I notice Darryn asks
Luke, not me.

“Probably. Can we have
a couple minutes, though?”

“Of course. I’ll be
back with your drinks.”

We thank him.

“He knows you,” Casey
observes.

“He’s a breakfast club
regular,” I explain.

Casey smiles. “If I’d
known about breakfast club, I would have visited sooner.”

“Yeah, right,” Luke grunts.
“You don’t have time to visit. I still can’t believe you showed up last night.
Don’t you have to be in Richmond tonight? I thought you guys were playing the
Calisto Festival.”

Casey almost looks
hurt, and I’m surprised. “I would have stopped by as much as I could if you’d let
me. You just didn’t want me around. I didn’t even know where you were until TJ
called a few days ago. I got here the first second I could.”

I can tell Luke doesn’t
want to have this conversation. I think it’s more the subject itself than the
fact that I’m present, however. I can’t see him ever being comfortable with it.

“One of us needs to
try the French toast,” I say before we return to the uncomfortable silence.

“Why’s that?” Casey
asks.

“We’ve never ordered it,
and I think it’s time to diversify breakfast club. What do you think?” I ask
Luke who shrugs. He hasn’t recovered yet, and I turn back to Casey.

“So tell me more about
being famous rock stars. I want to hear about the groveling.”

Casey smiles, but the
humor is gone. “Well, it hasn’t been the same without your friend here, that’s
for sure. Luke was Night Shifts Black. Without him we’re basically just a sad cover
band.”

I realize this
conversation isn’t going to help Luke’s current state, but I’m too fascinated
to give it up at the moment.

“At least you’re still
touring though, right?”

“Yeah, kind of. But we
don’t headline much anymore. We can’t sell out a stadium without Luke Craven.”

“Sweeny does fine,”
Luke mumbles.

“Yeah, sure,” Casey
smirks. “They’re your songs, bro. No one will ever be able to handle them like
you do.”

Luke shuts down again,
and I notice Casey’s reaction this time. The other man legitimately cares about
his friend. He’s worried about him. He knows why Luke left and stuck them with
Sweeny. He knows something about the ghost chair. I want to know now, more than
ever, and wonder if Casey would tell me. He probably wouldn’t, but I probably
wouldn’t have the heart to betray Luke and ask anyway.

Darryn returns with
our drinks, and I’m afraid he notices the sudden unrest around his table. He
might make us prepay for our food.

“Did you decide on
your orders?” Darryn asks, but he’s not optimistic.

We’re quiet for a
moment. Casey and I both look at Luke who is staring at the chair. Darryn
shifts his weight and seems just a fraction below annoyed. I’m about to speak
up and put us out of our misery when Luke suddenly orders French toast.

We all stare at him, and
Darryn seems flustered. I quickly rescue the moment by doing the same.

Darryn hesitates before
scribbling on his notepad and looking to Casey.

“What the hell, why
not?” Casey adds, handing over his menu.

Darryn clears his
throat. “Ok, three French toasts it is. Anything else?”

We shake our heads.

“No bacon? Fruit? Home
fries?”