Chapter 8
8
The Old Bell Diner was a sprawling restaurant smack dab in the center of Ashville, on the corner where the two main roads met. There were a handful of chain diners out by the expressway, where the truckers and cross-country road-trippers stopped, but the Old Bell was for the locals. It was open twenty-four hours a day, and it had enough customers to fill every one of those hours. The hospital, sheriff’s office, and fire station were all within walking distance of the place, so even at three a.m., the booths were full of people stopping by for a bite or a coffee before their shifts. And then, of course, there were the half-drunk college kids wandering over from Stan’s to split a giant platter of hash browns.
One of the reasons Felix always visited his grandpa on Sundays was because Tito and Lita used to go to the Old Bell every week after mass for the senior brunch discount. In the first months after she was gone, Tito couldn’t even look at the place when they drove past. Then, last fall, he had cautiously asked Felix if they might go to brunch. They’d only made it as far as ordering coffee before it was too much, and Felix had to take Tito home. They tried again a few weeks later, and again in the weeks that followed, until Tito was able to eat an entire meal there.
Now, whenever Tito was up for a Sunday outing, they came to the Old Bell. Each time, Tito paused by the enormous, seven-foot-tall bronze bell outside the entrance and lovingly ran his palm along the waist-high band that had been worn smooth and shiny by tens of thousands of hands. The bell was practically an institution in Ashville, but Tito had never touched it when Lita was alive. That had been her ritual. She was the one who had loved the sleek feel of the bronze, who had claimed one touch connected her to every other person who had ever rubbed the bell. Tito used to tease her for it, to remind her to go wash her hands before they ate. Now, he did it for her.
Sunday mornings at the diner were always packed, and that morning was no exception. It was later than Felix and Tito usually arrived for brunch, and there was a wait for a table. But the hostess shifted them up the queue with a wink so that Tito didn’t have to stand in the crowded lobby for more than a couple of minutes. The other Sunday regulars waved as she brought them to a booth.
True to his word, Tito ordered waffles—apple cinnamon—along with sausage links, two eggs over easy, sourdough toast, and country potatoes, with his usual black coffee and orange juice. Felix got a Denver omelet, hash browns, and a short stack of pancakes with a cappuccino. The Navarro men knew how to eat.
Tito had the decency to wait until they had gotten their food and eaten a few bites before he broached the subject of Jo. But he didn’t pull his punches.
“So,” he said around a bite of sausage, “tell me why you aren’t dating this sweet, lovely friend of yours.”
Felix sighed and mumbled, “For a lot of reasons.”
Tito raised an eyebrow at him—a clear “you’re going to have to do better than that, se?or” expression that Felix had seen hundreds of times. Felix shoveled a giant forkful of his omelet into his mouth and chewed slowly, staring Tito in the face.
“Cabezota,” Tito muttered. “Fine. Then tell me about her.”
So Felix did. He told Tito again how they met—glossing over the intricacies of MnM for the sake of simplicity—how Jo was generously helping him and, by extension, the library and the town. He told Tito that Jo made him laugh and told captivating stories, that she wore cute T-shirts and scrubs but apparently only owned one jacket, that she was clever and cared about people.
“These are all good things,” Tito said when Felix had finished. “What’s the problem?”
“First of all, Tito, it’s not only my decision,” he said. “She has to want to date me too.”
“And you have asked her?”
Felix didn’t respond to that, and Tito sighed resignedly. “Hijito, when you lose track of time with someone, that’s a good sign. It means you want to be together. That you are happy together. You are happy together, aren’t you?”
“I enjoy her company, yes. And she seems to enjoy mine. But she just ended a relationship and moved here a few weeks ago. She wants to be friends.” Felix stabbed a piece of pancake with his fork. “Besides, we’re working together on this library event. I can’t date a volunteer. It’s unprofessional.”
“Unprofessional,” Tito said with a tsk. “Always you are obsessed with this job you don’t even like very much.”
“I like my job fine,” he said. He kept his expression neutral, though he felt a stab of dread as the thought of budget cuts loomed in the back of his mind. He knew Tito would listen if he wanted to talk about that too. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he knew for certain what was going to happen to his job. Tito would only worry.
His grandpa leaned across the table to grip his forearm. “Hijo, I’m doing okay now. I have friends of my own at White Hills. I’m not so lonely anymore. If you want to find another place to work, to live—”
“What? No. Stop.” Felix set his fork down and closed his hand over Tito’s. His rancher’s hands were so small and fragile now. Felix could feel the veins bulging through his thin skin. “We’re not having this conversation.”
“Felix.” He switched to Spanish, as he often did when his emotions became too big for English. “You uprooted your life for me. You left someone behind for me. It’s because of you I’m here. Not just here in the Old Bell, but here in this world.” His eyes misted over. “But I never wanted to be a burden to you. You know that—that’s why I moved to White Hills in the first place. I want you to be happy. If you aren’t happy in Ashville, I don’t want you here anymore.”
As if he’d been punched in the gut, the air flew from Felix’s lungs. He knew without having to think about it that he wasn’t happy here, not really. Ashville had never felt like home. It was Tito and Lita’s home, the place he visited for short stints before going back to his real life. Most folks in town had grown up together, which made him feel like an outsider, even after living here for almost a year.
Felix’s life in Ashville wasn’t bad by any stretch of the imagination. His days were pleasant enough. More often than not, his work was rewarding. He was content. But not particularly happy.
Not unless he was with—
“But if this woman makes you happy,” Tito continued, giving voice to what was already on Felix’s mind, “chase that. Don’t let go of it. It’s a rare and beautiful thing to find someone who brings you that kind of joy. Who makes the sun shine brighter and the rain feel less cold and damp. Even if that person is a friend, she should be cherished.”
“You should’ve been a poet, Tito,” Felix said in English, his voice thick with emotion.
Tito grinned. “What makes you believe I wasn’t? Your lita kept every letter I ever wrote her, you know.”
“Sí, lo sé.”
Tito squeezed Felix’s forearm firmly and withdrew his hand. They resumed eating, each man occupied with his own thoughts for a long time. Felix wasn’t convinced he should ask Jo out. It was still unprofessional as long as they worked together. If anything, he was reminded that friendship was just as meaningful as a romantic relationship. Crushes came and went, but Jo liked being his friend, and he liked being hers. He needed that. Maybe what they had wasn’t the rare, beautiful thing Tito had described, but it was still worthwhile. Still important and good.
“You feel better?” Tito asked as he sopped up runny egg yolk with his toast.
“Sí. Thank you for listening.”
“You forgot my book this week. I need something to keep me entertained.”
Felix groaned, but it was mostly for show. “I said I’ll bring it tomorrow.”
“That doesn’t help me today, now does it?” Tito quirked an eyebrow at Felix and then burst out laughing. Felix joined him.
Jo’s pager buzzed against her wrist. She peeked at the face of the watch-like device, read “Front desk: Nonurgent,” and smiled to herself. She let Sharon know she was taking a short break and wound through the halls to the lobby. Felix was standing near the desk, one hand in his back pocket while he typed something on his phone with the other.
“Heading out?” Jo called.
Felix grinned and lowered his phone. “Yeah, off to run some errands.”
“Where’s Tito?”
“Probably sound asleep already,” he replied with that high-pitched chuckle of his. “I have it on good authority that he always takes a long nap after our brunches.”
“I can’t wait until I’m retired,” she said longingly. “Will you let me know how it goes with the guy from Stan’s tomorrow?”
“Sure, I’ll email you.”
“Make it extra formal for me.”
“As thou commandeth.”
She made a face. “Oh God, I take it back.”
Felix gave her a sly grin that sent her pulse skyrocketing. He backed toward the front door. “Too late, Jo. You asked for it.”
“I take it back, though!” She took a few steps toward him, but he backed up faster.
“No take backs!”
And then he was out the door, jogging toward his car and glancing back at her over his shoulder. As if she might chase him. If she hadn’t been at work, with Leo looking on, she totally would have.
From:Felix Navarro
To:Jo Rainier
Date:Monday, May 13, 2024, 2:17 P.M.
Subject:On the Subject of Stan’s
Dear Ms. Rainier,
Pursuant to the agreed upon action item resulting from our most recent conversation, please find below a brief summation of my telephone meeting with one Mr.Charlie Ross, Manager of Stan’s Bar in Ashville, Kansas.
I will be investigating this potential new avenue for advertising later this week, as my bandwidth allows. If you desire, I can keep you abreast of my progress in this matter.
Sincerely,
Mr. Navarro, MI
~
Felix Navarro, MI
Junior Librarian, General Services
Butler County Library District — Ashville Public Library
From:Jo Rainier
To:Felix Navarro
Date:Monday, May 13, 2024, 5:03 P.M.
Subject:RE: On the Subject of Stan’s
This is both the best and worst thing I’ve ever read. Congratulations. (Looks like we’re both creative, huh?)
Bummer about Stan’s, but I’m still down for some guerilla marketing. We just need some flyers and maybe a martini for courage.
See ya Friday,
Jo
On Friday, Jo was in hell. Bureaucratic, red taped, “please-wait-here-until-your-number-is-called” hell. And she didn’t even have the internet to distract her. She was going on four hours of sitting in the lobby of the Butler County Motor Vehicles office, twenty miles from Ashville, waiting for her number to come up.
She had tried to make transferring her car registration and driver’s license as painless as possible. She’d switched shifts at work to free up a weekday, made an appointment, gathered all the paperwork she thought she needed, and even arrived early. But she’d missed one crucial step. Apparently, out-of-state cars required an inspection before the registration could be transferred. By the time she’d driven out to the inspection facility halfway across the county, waited for her car to be checked, and driven back, there were no more appointments available. She was now at the mercy of the walk-in schedule.
Which was taking forever.
And to top it off, the customer Wi-Fi was down, and her phone only had one measly, flickering bar of service. She’d finished her book within the first couple of hours, and she hadn’t thought she’d be waiting long enough to need a second one. She’d taken to writing notes on the back of a receipt she’d found in her purse—topics for Felix’s MnM lessons, ideas for marketing the launch event, and the beginnings of a packing list for Indi-Con.
She was starting to run out of room on the receipt when an automated voice announced, “Now serving… number fifty-two.”
Jo jumped up from the plastic chair, her butt numb. “That’s me!”
The actual process of transferring everything didn’t take very long. She showed them proof of residence, her documentation from California, and that damn vehicle inspection paperwork; took a one-minute vision test; and smiled into a camera for her new license photo.
Then—finally—she rushed out the door to hop into her Kansas--official car. She had just enough time to run home, grab a granola bar and her MnM bag, and get over to her lesson with Felix by six o’clock.
What she wouldn’t have time for was a video call with Aida from the library parking lot, which had become their Friday night routine. Instead, as soon as she had signal again, she called her best friend on speaker and stuck her phone in the cupholder. They traded off venting about their days, and then Jo asked Aida how the first session of their friends’ new MnM campaign had gone the night before.
“It’s not the same without you,” Aida said, “but it was really good. Kim brought a friend of hers to try it out. She’s cool, but things are moving a little slow since she’s new. David’s a great GM. He threw us into combat, like, three minutes in. Max almost died twice.”
“Seriously? How does he keep doing that? First Lyric and now this new character.”
“Andros,” Aida said. “He’s playing a barbarian this time. Built to absorb damage, but then he rushes in without thinking and ends up bleeding out in round two of combat.”
Jo laughed and pressed a hand to her heart. “I love that dumbass.”
“Me too.”
“I miss playing so much, Aida.” Jo turned on her windshield wipers as it started to drizzle. “Felix and I are doing a mock game tonight. It’ll be super simple, but I can’t wait to GM again.”
“I knew you couldn’t stay away for long. Cattle theft?” Aida asked, referring to the adventure Jo had written specifically for breaking in new players.
“It’s a classic for a reason.”
“And how are things with the hot librarian?”
Jo could feel her cheeks heat. “You know his name, Aida.”
“Yeah, babe,” Aida said, sounding mildly exasperated. “It’s Hot Librarian. By the way, you still owe me pics.”
“How exactly am I supposed to take pictures of him? You told me to treat him like a work friend.”
“That was before. Now we’re treating him like Jo’s sexy crush.”
Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t quite thought about Felix in those terms yet. The idea made her feel all gooey inside. “Which means what? Gentle online stalking to dig up photos of him from Rutgers?”
“Rutgers?” There was a lilt of interest in Aida’s voice as she latched onto that tidbit. “That’s a start. What’s his last name?”
“Nope.”
“Babe, please. You have to give me something.”
Jo took a slow, even breath. She wasn’t planning on saying anything until she’d brought it up with Felix first, but… “I was thinking of inviting him to Indi-Con next weekend.”
Aida gasped. “Jo! I fully support this. This is the best idea you’ve ever had.”
“You think so? It’s not too much?”
“Of course it’s too much,” Aida said, blunt as ever. “Indi-Con is like drinking from the firehose of MnM. It’s perfect.”
“How can it be too much and also perfect?”
There was a long pause. Jo wondered if her phone signal had gone out again, but then Aida said, “Hold on. I need to close my office door.”
“Okay…” Jo replied warily. While she waited, she glanced at the sky. The rain was coming down harder now. Dark, gray-green clouds were gathering ahead of her. It had been overcast at the motor vehicles office, but not like this. She seemed to driving into a storm.
Through the phone, there was the sound of a door closing. “Can you handle some real talk right now?” asked Aida.
Jo’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Uh-huh.”
“After Jeremy,” Aida began, and that’s how Jo knew it was serious. Aida never said his name. He was always “the asshole.” Her heart beat a little faster; her fists clenched a little harder. “I want you to find someone who understands you. Someone who gets what MnM means to you and why you devote so much time to it. Listen to yourself, babe—you can’t wait to GM again? You swore that you were going to take a break when you moved. Now you’re teaching someone how to play, inviting him to a con—which I had to talk you into going to, by the way—and helping launch a public game program!”
“Jesus, Aida,” Jo interjected, not even trying to hide the hurt in her voice.
“I’m not guilt-tripping you, Jo, I swear. Please don’t misunderstand me. I think what you’re doing is awesome. I’m trying to help you see that MnM is always going to be part of you. You can’t stay away from it. And you shouldn’t have to. You love it. You’re brilliant at it. If Hot Librarian isn’t cool with that, fuck him. If he runs screaming from Indi-Con, I’d rather you know now before you go through a lot of hurt again.”
Jo went quiet, digesting that as the rain pattered on the metal and glass around her. Teaching Felix MnM had given her a kind of joy she hadn’t felt in years. It was wonderful, sharing the game with him and remembering the thrill of learning it herself back in college. It was even better to be free of the guilt and the shame that the man she loved refused to be involved in one of the biggest parts of her life.
Tears sprang to Jo’s eyes as her swirling thoughts coalesced on Jeremy. What if… what if she hadn’t stopped going to conventions and public games because she was burned out? What if she hadn’t actually been burned out at all? What if she had stopped because it wasn’t worth it anymore? Not with how much Jeremey hated them, the way he made her feel bad about wanting to go.
What if she didn’t have to hold back anymore? What if she could let herself fall in love with MnM all over again?
“I forgot to tell you,” Jo said quietly, blinking away her tears. “I signed up to GM a few games at Indi-Con.”
“That’s awesome,” Aida replied. “I’m so proud of you.”
“And you really think I should invite Felix?”
“I do. Not as a boyfriend test or whatever—that’s gross. But if you really do like him, it couldn’t hurt to learn as much about him as possible, including what he thinks of MnM on that scale.”
Jo sniffed and cleared her throat to keep herself from full-on crying. What the hell had she done to deserve a best friend like Aida? “Can I ask a favor?”
“Anything.”
“If Felix comes to Indi-Con, will you ask Trey to help keep him company?”
Aida chuckled. Her fiancé didn’t play MnM very much, but he sometimes came to cons with the group to get in a game or two. “Are you kidding? Trey would love an exhibit hall buddy.”
“You two are the best.”
“I know, babe.”
“And, um, on that note, I think I need to go,” Jo said, looking skyward again. “I think it’s starting to hail. I should focus on driving.”
“Oh, damn, yes, you should. I’ll see you next week at Indi-Con.”
“Can’t wait. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Jo carefully drove the rest of the way into Ashville, keeping a close eye on the time. About a mile outside of town, the rain and hail suddenly stopped. The wide Kansan sky was still hidden behind a thick, low ceiling of cloud cover, but she seemed to have made it through the worst of the storm.
That’s weird, she thought. But then again, she hadn’t done much driving outside of Ashville. Maybe rainstorms here were really localized.
After a quick pit stop at home to get her things, Jo finally made it to the library with two minutes to spare. She sat in her car for a brief moment to steady herself. It had been a wild day, with wild emotions and wild weather. But now, she got to spend an hour with Felix, playing her favorite game and letting go of the stress and distractions. And at the end of their lesson, she would invite him to come with her to Indi-Con, a prospect that was equal parts nerve-racking and electrifying.
“Here we go,” she muttered, stepping out of the car.
The wind immediately whipped her flyaways around her face. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she found herself shuddering. She grabbed her tote bag and purse and hustled to the shelter of the library.
Felix’s head snapped up when she entered. The wind caught the door, and she had to haul it closed with both hands. He was on his feet by the time she turned back around. Jesus, he looked good today. His shirt was a little rumpled, more disheveled than he usually was at work. His hair was mussed, as if he’d been running his hands through his black waves. She didn’t hate it.
“I wasn’t sure if you were coming,” Felix said, gesturing toward the windows that framed the front door and the dark clouds beyond them. He seemed to be breathing a little heavily.
“Because of the rain?” she said with a smile. “I may be from California, but I’m not made of sugar, you know.”
Felix squinted at her, looked out the windows, and back to her. “Did you get my email?”
“No, sorry,” Jo replied. “It’s been kind of a long day, and I didn’t think to check it. Why? Is something going on?”
“There’s a tornado watch, Jo.”
“There’s a WHAT?!”
Felix was kind enough not to shush her in the library.