Chapter 7 #2
“Pages is honored to have such a prolific author in our midst. I, for one, have been a lifelong fan of hers, so this evening feels slightly surreal for me. Her books have been constant companions throughout many different phases of my life, a light during dark times and a source of great comfort. The characters she’s created are as dear to me as any and having her here to read from her latest novel, Windswept, is rendering me speechless, so I’ll stop blithering and ask Katherine to join me up front.
Please put your hands together for Katherine Webber!
” Katherine appears like magic at my elbow and lightly pats my arm in thanks as we trade positions in front of the microphone.
Katherine leans over and whispers in my ear, “That is easily the best-looking Lyndon I’ve ever seen and trust me, I’ve seen my fair share. He even puts the Lyndon that lives in my head to shame.”
I make my way to Jo, who is still standing behind the register next to Kody. She puts her arm around my shoulders and mouths, “Nice use of ‘blithering’.” I poke her lightly in the ribs, which earns me a cheeky smile from Kody, who always loves when we tousle.
I glance around to see where Shayne wandered off to and find him in the corner, his head bent in whispered conversation with an attractive woman I don’t recognize.
“Did you convince him to come tonight?” I ask Jo, keeping my voice low.
“Don’t look at me. It was all her,” Jo says, pointing at Kody. Kody gives me a still-sleepy smile.
“I dared him to a race. I won the race, Aunt Paige!” Kody’s voice rings out. We get a few glares from attendees sitting closest to the register. Jo shushes Kody gently.
“Loser had to wear the blue paint! I am the winner! I am the best!” Kody whispers, which is barely a step down from her normal voice.
“OK, girlie, let’s play the quiet game. Winner gets chocolate ice-cream,” Jo says and then pulls a face. Kody excitedly claps her hands over her mouth, her tiny body vibrating with excitement. There is nothing that kid loves more than ice-cream.
The reading goes well, and Katherine transitions effortlessly to an engaging Q&A afterwards smoothly moderated by Jessa.
Afterwards Jessa pulls me aside, all smiles now thankfully, and jokingly admonishes me for “keeping the most beautiful Lyndon I’ve ever clapped eyes on under wraps.
” I’m swept up in another round of mad-dash register duties, but I manage to occasionally peek at Shayne as he poses for an endless stream of photos.
The store stays busy for so long that I barely get a chance to wave goodbye to Katherine before she covertly sneaks out the back door.
In a brief lull, I try to find Shayne so I can thank him properly and hopefully ease the weird tension between us, but there isn’t a trace of his blue-bodied self. A pit forms in my stomach.
Finally, at 10pm, I lock the door, feeling ready to collapse where I stand.
“Well, that was a successful evening.” Jo says, wiping down the counter. Kody is asleep in a pile of jackets at her feet.
My back is barking from folding and hauling the chairs back to the storage room. The store is still in disarray, but I have no energy left to right the chaos. Tomorrow is going to have to be another early day.
“I wonder where Shayne wandered off to. I never got a chance thank him.”
“He snuck off muttering something about needing a drink.” Jo says, swallowing a yawn.
“Thank you for all your help tonight, my dearest. You went above and beyond, per usual,” I say to Jo, wrestling the cleaning cloth out of her hands.
Jo scrubs her hands over her face and then twists her long red hair into a top knot. She looks tired, understandably, as she was probably up at the crack of dawn attending to her usual laundry list of ranch chores, but the shadows under her eyes look more pronounced than usual.
“What’s going on, Jo?”
Jo takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I’m fine. I’m just tired.”
Her eyes unfocus for a second, and I can tell that her mind has wandered elsewhere.
Whenever I’m feeling overwhelmed and in need of a perspective shift, all I need to do is imagine myself in Jo’s shoes.
I only have myself and the store to worry about.
Jo has a family, a business, a bunch of four-legged needy creatures, not to mention a best friend that regularly requires emotional fortification. I don’t know how she does it.
Kody stirs on the jacket pile, and the faraway look in Jo’s eyes instantly shifts back to the present.
She bends down and gently picks up her daughter.
“Hey, why don’t you come over to the ranch tomorrow for dinner?
” she whispers over Kody’s shoulder. “Andy is around this weekend, so maybe we can do a game night.” Andy occasionally has to leave town for ranch-related business, and I oftentimes invite myself over on those weekends so we can have girls’ night.
I nod, planting a kiss on Kody’s sleep-warmed cheek. I grab my bag from underneath the register and then follow Jo, switching off lights as we make our way to the front door. The night outside is clear and bright, the moon hanging full and heavy in the inky black sky.
Silvercreek is a ghost town at this hour, even on a Friday night.
There are only a few cars left on the street, including my Subaru and Jo’s truck.
The crisp air chips away at my tiredness, and suddenly I don’t feel like going home to an empty cabin just yet.
Glancing further down the street, I see that La Cocina, the only Silvercreek establishment that stays open past 9pm, has a few cars in the parking lot.
Maybe Shayne is there and I can sneak up on him for a change.
If Jo didn’t have Kody, I’d make her join me. Jo deserves a night out.
Jo. A sense of unease descends on me thinking of that look in her eyes.
Jo would never ask for help, even if she desperately needed it.
She gives and gives, even while her own reservoir runs dry.
A thought pops into my head, and I glance up to see if Jo is still around.
Luckily, she’s still loading Kody into the backseat of her truck across the street, and I jog over to catch her before she finishes.
“What do you think about Kody and I having a sleepover next weekend? You and Andy could get away for a night or two.”
Jo finishes clicking Kody into her seat and then turns to face me, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Hm, while I’m already jealous of this ‘girls’ weekend’…a night away doesn’t sound terrible. Let me check in with Andy, and we can talk about it tomorrow when you come over.”
We hug again, and Jo drives off. La Cocina’s giant neon green cactus beckons, a buzzing siren’s call in the near distance. One beer before bed doesn’t sound like a terrible idea. And if Shayne is around, I can thank him like the gracious businesswoman I am. Two birds, one stone.
Inside, the restaurant side is shuttered with chairs stacked on top of tables.
The bar side is still open, but barely. The man behind the bar stares into a flickering wall-mounted television while half-heartedly wiping a pint glass.
Another man is hunched over at the end of the bar in front of several beer bottles and a shot glass.
Most of the booths against the wall look unoccupied.
A young couple is pressed up against the pool table, cue sticks dangling forgotten from their hands while their mouths are otherwise occupied.
Seeing them entwined around each other makes me feel old. Shayne is nowhere to be found.
During the day, La Cocina is a bright, bustling hub of delicious smelling food and chatter.
The tables are covered in red-checkered cloths, and the colorfully dressed staff sling endless plates of chilaquiles and homemade tortillas.
It’s a far cry from its current state, where the only light seems to be coming from the TV, and the flickering Budweiser fixture dangling over the pool table.
I’m starting to wonder if the beer is worth wading through the loneliness.
“What can I get you?” The tired bartender has noticed me hovering in the doorway.
“You know, I think I’m going to head out,” I say, turning to leave.
“Banshee.” There’s only one person who calls me by that ridiculous nickname.
The person at the end of the bar has straightened up, making it easier to recognize his form.
He changed into a different, less Fabio-esque shirt and removed move most of the blue paint from his face.
A faint line of blue is still visible along his hair and jawlines.
His dark eyes are bleary and tired looking.
Clearly the bottom of a beer barrel is where Shayne’s ended up. He pats the stool next to him.
“Put her order on my tab,” he calls to the bartender. He’s about three beer sips away from full on slurring.
“I’ll have whatever light beer you have on tap.” The bartender nods and within seconds is presenting me with a frosted glass, brimming with pale golden liquid.
“I’ll have another of both,” Shayne says, pointing towards the shot glass.
The bartender grabs a fresh bottle from a fridge below the bar and pops the cap off in a smooth, practiced motion. He then spills another shot of something amber colored from a red wax topped bottle into the shot glass.
Shayne nods, then tips the beer back, draining half of it. The shot follows in quick succession, and I’m queasy at the thought of it.
“Thank you for showing up tonight. I know you lost a bet to Kody, but all the same, I appreciate you” I say, feeling cagey. “You saved the night. I had a very frustrated media manager on my hands.”
Shayne nods and takes another swig of beer.
“I’m sorry if tonight ended up being a royal pain in the ass and you have to drink yourself into oblivion to get over it.”
“I’m not drinking myself into oblivion,” he replies, indignantly. “I’m drinking myself into tomorrow.” He takes another swig from the bottle. “Strategically.”
“Is that so?”