Chapter 10
TEN
Fisher
Despite the incredible breakfasts at the Colorado Club, my favorite place to get my first meal of the day is the Galaxy Grill.
The cherry-red seats are like something out of the fifties.
The uniforms that the waitresses wear are fifties appropriate, and the black-and-white tiles on the floor are a vibe.
It doesn’t hurt that the waffles here are sent directly from heaven.
I wonder how much of Star Falls has changed in the last seventy-five years. Probably less than most of America.
“You want a table by the window?” The waitress nods to the row of booths that can fit six people, and I bite back a smile.
“Sure,” I say. “Thanks.”
I love the view down Main Street with the mountains climbing up and out from behind. It feels like the town was plonked here in the middle of nowhere and doesn’t really belong, with the mountains so domineering of the landscape. It’s so different from New York.
I follow the redheaded waitress over to the booths. When we pass the first one, something catches out of the corner of my eye, and I do a double take. There, in the first booth, is Juniper. My gaze slides to the person opposite her. It’s a kid. Her kid, presumably.
“Hi,” I stutter like I’m a fucking awkward teenager.
She smiles a wide, warm smile. “Hi, Fisher. This is Riley. My daughter.”
“Hi,” I say, nodding at Riley.
Riley’s hair is slightly darker than her mom’s, but she has the exact same smile. She lifts her palm up, and it takes me a second to realize she’s offering me a high five.
I slap my palm against hers and raise my eyebrows. “It’s good to meet you.”
“Fisher’s one of Byron’s friends, Riley.”
“Byron who you went to high school with? The dude who lives in the Colorado Club?”
“Dude?” Juniper asks on a laugh. “When did dude appear in your vocabulary?”
Riley just rolls her eyes, like her mom is the worst.
“So, it’s nice to meet you, Riley.” I nod to the next table, where the waitress has left me a menu. “I’ll see you—”
“You’re welcome to join us, if you want.” She gives me another smile, and I feel it in my gut. “But I completely understand if you don’t want to endure the attitude of a hungry eight-year-old.” She winks at her daughter.
“I won’t be hungry as soon as my pancakes get here.”
“Well, that’s true.” She glances back up at me. “But it’s completely fine if you want to eat on your own.”
“Ahhh, pancakes,” Riley says, leaning forward so she can see around me to where the waitress is heading toward their table with a plate of pancakes. The plate is stacked high, and I wonder if it’s possible for an eight-year-old to even make a dent in that many pancakes.
Now I’m making it awkward. I need to fucking sit down. I’m hovering like I’m an indecisive bee.
“Sure, I’d love to join you, if you don’t mind sharing your space?”
Juniper and Riley both shuffle up, leaving room for me to sit next to either of them.
More decisions. I really should have skipped breakfast. Although there’s a part of me that’s glad I didn’t.
“Come sit, Fisher. You’re making me nervous.” Juniper pats the bench next to her, and I slide in.
“Pancakes, huh?” I say, nodding toward Riley’s plate.
Riley shoots me a look like I’m a loser. And she wouldn’t be wrong. I just don’t know what to say to an eight-year-old.
“Oh, and here’s mine,” Juniper says as the waitress sets down another plate.
“You’re a table of three now!” the waitress says. “How perfect.”
Something passes between her and Juniper.
“Don’t start, Donna,” Juniper says. “Or I’ll send my mom after you.”
“What are you talking about? Your mom would be on my side.” The waitress laughs and turns to me. “What can I get you? You had the waffles and strawberries last time you were in, right? You want the same again? With a black coffee?”
“You memorized my order?” I ask. Am I being stalked?
Juniper laughs beside me. “Donna has a photographic memory. Don’t worry; she’s not your personal stalker.” She stops herself. “Although, she has the skills.”
“I absolutely do; you’re right,” Donna says. “So, what’s it going to be? Same as last time?”
“Sure,” I say. What else can I say? I’m slightly concerned that if I order something different, it will be entered into a database somewhere, and Donna will be able to tell me what I’m going to be doing five years from now.
“You want the whipped cream?” Donna asks. “You said no yesterday.”
“Now you’re just freaking me out,” I say. “But no, no cream, thanks.”
Donna writes it down and disappears, and I watch her go, wondering if she’s going to note down my order somewhere so she can pull it out next time I’m in. Or maybe she really does remember everyone’s order.
“Does she really have a photographic memory?” I ask, watching Donna.
“I’m not lying, Fisher,” Juniper says sharply.
Before I have a chance to respond, Riley says, “Donna remembers everything. My birthday. Everyone’s birthday actually. Even Albert’s birthday.”
“Right,” Juniper says. “Let’s not bring Albert into this.”
Albert is clearly a topic of controversy.
“But, Mom, please can I have another Albert? I promise I’ll do all my chores for a month without complaining?”
Juniper shakes her head. “I am not buying you another fish. They die, Riley. That’s what fish do. And you wouldn’t leave your room for three entire days when Albert died. I’m not doing it again.”
I try to bite back a smile, because I thought Albert might be the ex-husband or something. But Albert’s a fish. And Donna remembers his birthday. This town sure has its quirks.
“What are you up to today?” Juniper asks, clearly and desperately trying to turn the conversation away from Albert.
“Well, breakfast for a start. Then I’m going to text you to see if you called Grace Astor.”
She laughs. “You don’t give up, do you?”
I shrug. “Tenacity is my superpower.”
“What’s tenacity?” Riley asks, her mouth half full with pancakes.
“Don’t talk and eat,” Juniper says. “Tenacity means persistence. Like when you ask me to visit the diner after a studio session. You don’t quit until I say yes. That’s tenacity.”
“So, tenacity is my superpower too.” Riley raises her hand for another high five, and I slap mine against hers.
“So?” I ask.
“So, calling Grace is on my list of things to do.”
“And what’s the time frame for getting through your to-do list?” I ask.
She winces. “Average life expectancy is what? Eighty-two or something, right?”
I shake my head, wondering what I can do to convince her to pick up the phone.
“I really appreciate you giving me her number.”
“You need to use it,” I say as my phone buzzes.
I realize I haven’t checked my emails yet today.
Back in New York, it wouldn’t matter what day of the week it was, the first thing I do in the morning is check my emails.
Here in Colorado, all the days are merging together, and I’m out of routine.
After I wondered when Juniper painted the picture opposite my bed, the first thing I thought of today was what the view would look like and whether it would be the same as yesterday.
In New York, I don’t contemplate the view. I’m down to business right away.
“Sorry, I just need a second.”
I scroll through my phone and see something from the manager of the biggest group that’s signed to Right Records at the moment—The Homecoming Kings. He’s a decent guy. A straight shooter.
I open the email, which is headed as Contract. I scan the email. He wants to discuss the marketing around the last album… blah, blah—and then I hit the crux of the message.
The band has been talking about whether Right Records is the right place for them.
I groan and sit back. There’s no way this isn’t connected to Gerry Banks.
He’s got to have been sniffing around them.
The Kings are building some serious momentum in their career.
They write all their own music. They’re not idiots.
Or more accurately, only the drummer is an idiot.
They have real long-term potential. Of course Gerry wants them.
Fuck.
“They won’t be long with the waffles,” Riley says encouragingly.
“You okay?” Juniper asks.
“Yeah, fine. Sorry, I haven’t checked my emails today, and they’re building up.”
“Relax. You’re in Star Falls. You don’t need to get all The Scream.” She puts her hands up to her face, and Riley does the same thing. They both open their mouths, imitating Edvard Munch’s famous painting.
Even though I don’t feel very happy, I can’t help but laugh at the two of them.
“It’s not that. I just got some bad news at work. That’s all.”
“What kind of bad news?” Riley asks. “Did you lose your job? That happened to Anna’s dad. That’s why they had to move. They’ve gone to Denver now.”
“No, I didn’t lose my job. Although it feels like someone’s trying to bury me professionally.”
“Is it that cutthroat?” Juniper asks as Donna delivers my waffles.
“Not usually. Well, yes, it is, but I can handle it. I know when to expect the blows. And usually, I’m in New York, so I’ve got my gloves on.
But someone from my past has come back to haunt me, and it feels like…
I don’t know. It’s strange. It feels weirdly personal.
And now I’m starting to sound paranoid.”
She gives me a reassuring smile. “You seem to me like a man who has good instincts. Maybe it is personal.”
But why would it be? It wasn’t like I got a promotion at EMG and he didn’t or something.
We were both the same level. Maybe I had more of a knack for sniffing out talent than he did.
I certainly got more artists signed than he did during our time as co-workers.
But he stole artists right from under my nose.
If anything, I should have a personal vendetta against him.
“I can’t see how.” I shrug.
“I think the waffles will make you feel better,” Riley says. “I’m feeling better after some of my pancakes. Mom says it’s the sugar.”
I grin at her. “Good advice, Riley.” I dig into my waffles.
“Pancakes and mom snuggles. That’s the secret sauce that always cheers me up.”
I glance sideways at Juniper, and she’s trying not to laugh.
“I’m not sure I qualify for mom snuggles,” I reply. “But these waffles are delicious.”
“Best in the tristate area,” Riley says wisely.
Juniper laughs. “The tristate area? Who made you, kid?”
“You did! And Dad.” Riley’s expression turns sullen. “My dad moved to Orlando with his new family.”
A pang of sadness hits me in my chest. I know that feeling. Everything changing and you not being able to do anything about it. Not knowing if you’re going to see your dad again. It’s all… a lot.
Juniper chews on her bottom lip. “It’s an adjustment,” she says.
“Yeah, I get that,” I say. “My mom and dad got divorced when I was a kid.”
“Really?” Riley asks.
“Really,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. “It takes time, but new becomes old pretty quick.”
“What does that mean?” she asks.
“It means it hurts. And it’s difficult to imagine, but it will hurt less someday.”
Riley shrugs and takes another mouthful of pancakes.
Juniper slides her hand onto my thigh and pats it under the table before going back to her eggs.
I’m not sure if it’s a thank-you for trying to make Riley feel better or an I’m sorry you went through that.
Maybe it’s both. It’s nice. She’s nice. So’s Riley.
Juniper’s not someone trying to make me think she’s one person when she’s actually another.
She’s still the beautiful, insightful woman I met. But she’s also a mother.
“Riley, what do you think about me taking your mom to dinner sometime this week?” I ask.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Juniper’s eyebrows rise up into her hairline.
“What, like at Pizza Meet Ya?”
“Pizza Meet Ya?” I ask. “Wow, that’s a mouthful.”
Juniper laughs. “The pizza place on the corner,” she clarifies.
“Maybe,” I say. “Does she like Pizza Meet Ya?”
“She does,” Riley says. “We don’t go very often though.”
I glance at Juniper. Her expression is open and happy. It’s comforting and warm.
“If you’d like to go to dinner, that is?” I ask her.
She nods. “That would be nice.”
“Do you want to be her boyfriend?” Riley asks.
Juniper splutters on her drink and goes to speak.
I chuckle. “I just wanna get dinner,” I say. “I get really, really hungry.”
“Okay,” Riley says.
“Okay?” I look at Juniper.
“Okay,” she says with a wide smile.