The Bernie Factor

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The Bernie Factor Page 19

by Joseph S. Davis


  Chapter 19

  Andy eased the Fleetwood into two parking spaces, straddling the car over one of painted white lines. He rationalized that since his car doors were so large and heavy, he needed two spaces to avoid putting door dings or worse on other people’s cars. He’d seen it happen before, and there was no telling how people would react when their prize possession got hit by 200 pound car door. This was especially true in Vegas if that person were on a losing streak. People could be so volatile. Although there was merit in his argument, ultimately he just wanted to protect his baby. He even washed and waxed the Caddie with cloth diapers. It had become his new obsession. After so many years, Sylvia understood the gambler mentality and just went with it. It was a whole lot easier swimming with the current than fighting against it.

  Sylvia opened her eyes and stretched her back in an arching, twisting motion. Her left hand drifted across the front seat and grabbed Andy’s shoulder.

  “Where are we?” Sylvia asked looking around.

  “Pine Valley,” Andy responded.

  “Really? Where’s Nicky? Are we meeting him here?” Her voice rose in anticipation with each question.

  “Yes, really, I don’t know where our son is, and no, we’re not meeting him here. I thought this looked like a good spot to get our caffeine levels high and urine levels low. We’ll shoot him a call once we grab a couple of cups. Sound like a plan?”

  Sylvia stretched again, this time twisting toward Andy, her hand still on his shoulder. She leaned in and gave him a peck on his unshaven cheek. “That sounds like a great plan.”

  Sylvia absently swung her door open, grabbing it at the last second. She checked the ground and realized it was one of Andy’s patented parking jobs. Good thing, she thought, as she pushed the door open the rest of the way. Andy hopped out of the car and stared up at the coffee shop sign.

  “Grounds For Divorce? Now that’s a first. Hopefully it doesn’t rub off.”

  “After 37 years, I’m pretty sure we’re relatively safe,” Sylvia replied. She learned years ago not be overly optimistic or pessimistic. Everything was relative. “I’m not certain if you still realize it sweetheart, but I’m a sure thing.”

  Normally a sure thing makes a gambler cringe, but Andy did believe in that statement. Sylvia was his sure thing and had been for the majority of his adult life. She was the one constant, the rock, and his greatest source of joy. It made keeping quiet about the true reason for the trip a weight on his heart. He didn’t like lying to Sylvia or keeping secrets from her.

  The couple walked through the battered wooden front door that hung heavy on the doorframe, making it a bit of a chore to enter or exit. Once inside, a young woman behind the counter greeted them.

  “Welcome to GFD. What can I get started for you?”

  “Before I make any statements, I need to ask one pertinent question,” Andy stated. “Are you or any other employees here divorce attorneys or in any way involved in that profession? I just need to know.” Sylvia knew Andy distrusted lawyers and quite frankly so did she. She was actually intrigued to hear the answer herself.

  “No sir, not that I’m aware of,” the young woman replied without missing a beat. Apparently this was not the first time someone posed this question to her. “It’s just our quirky little name,” she explained.

  “I’d lay odds there’s an interesting story behind that,” Andy said with a wry grin.

  “Yeah, I think there is, but Miguel would be the one to ask,” she said pointing to the man behind the counter speaking on a telephone. “He’s the owner.”

  Miguel was speaking in a hushed voice over the phone. Neither Andy nor Sylvia could make out what he was saying exactly, but they both recognized he was speaking in both Spanish and English. They could pick out bits and pieces of the conversation as they placed their coffee orders. He seemed to be reassuring somebody about something or other. They could tell by the tone and demeanor that he was growing weary of repeating himself.

  Andy and Sylvia walked toward the serving station and soaked in the atmosphere of this unique joint. Mixed in the air with the rich smell of coffee was a distinct wafting of pastries, breads, and other culinary aromas that made both of their stomachs churn. Andy glanced at his watch and realized it had been almost six hours since either of them had a bite to eat.

  “Hey, I know you were probably thinking we’d meet Nick and grab a bite to eat, but what do you say we get a little something to tide us over here? You know, a little edible stop gap measure? What do you say?”

  “Oh, thank God. Did you see that bear claw when we walked in?” Sylvia said.

  “I missed it. Was it back behind the counter, somewhere?”

  “No, it’s in the display case next to the gargantuan blueberry and cream cheese muffin. I’m pretty sure I saw my name on the bear claw.”

  “Blueberry and cream cheese muffin? That sounds good to me. I’ll grab them both.” Andy leaned into the serving counter and got the young woman’s attention. She raised her eyebrows to let him know she was listening.

  “Could we also get that bear claw and muffin sitting all alone on that tray over there,” Andy inquired, pointing toward the pasties.

  “Oh, you sure can. They’re actually half off at this time of the day. Everything’s got to be fresh in the morning, you know.”

  “Winner, winner, chicken dinner,” Andy replied. As he stepped back from the counter, Miguel’s voice carried through the otherwise vacant café as he still spoke on the phone.

  “No, no, no Blanco Diablo,” Miguel said. Andy and Sylvia stopped what they were doing and looked first at Miguel, then back at each other. Sylvia silently mouthed Blanco Diablo at Andy. Andy shrugged his shoulders and gave her a bewildered look. Andy raised his right hand index finger signaling he might have an answer.

  “Excuse me, miss.”

  “Yes.”

  “Is Blanco Diablo a coffee or dessert item here?”

  “If it is, it’s new to me. Never heard him say that before. But who, knows, they’re always coming up with new stuff.”

  This response did not erase the slight uneasiness Andy and Sylvia felt after hearing Blanco Diablo for the second time in so many days. They gathered up their drinks and food and made their way to a table a few feet away. They sat down and looked back toward Miguel who was now hanging up the phone.

  “I’m sure it’s just some sort of weird coincidence,” Andy said, nonchalantly. “Just odd timing, you know.”

  “You’re not convincing me,” Sylvia said.

  “I’m not surprised. I’m having a hard time convincing myself.”

  Sylvia pulled small pieces from her bear claw and dipped them in her coffee. That often got odd stares from people, but she loved dipping her food in coffee. Tonight she was preoccupied as she watched Miguel knock around behind the counter and briefly give some direction to the young girl. Andy separated the bottom from his muffin and began devouring that half. He always saved the best for last. With each chug of his coffee, he’d shoot a look Miguel’s way, hoping for eye contact or for Miguel to come out from behind the counter. On his third swallow, Miguel began walking their direction.

  “How is everything this evening?” Miguel asked. Miguel’s white apron showed the day’s work across its front. Smears of icing, flour, the obligatory coffee stains, and something red covered the apron’s front. Miguel’s hands remained folded behind his back as he gave the O’Fallon’s a warm smile.

  Andy replied, “Well, the pastries are delicious, and the coffee is rich, warm, and just what we needed.” Sylvia nodded in agreement, still tearing small pieces off and dipping them into her coffee.

  “That’s good to hear. If there’s anything I can get you, please let us know. My name’s Miguel, and you’ve already met Tamara.” The young girl waved from behind the counter at the mention of her name.

  “Actually, I’ve got a question for you,” Andy said.


  “Oh, what’s that?”

  “Not to be nosy or anything, but I couldn’t help but hear you on the phone.” Andy purposely excluded Sylvia from any eavesdropping accusations. “Is Blanco Diablo a type of coffee, drink, or something else you guys sell here?”

  Miguel’s warm smile momentarily faded as the corners of his mouth drooped and a weary look cast over his face. Andy and Sylvia noticed the change in his demeanor and found no comfort in his reaction to the question. Andy suddenly wished he could step back in time and take the words back.

  “No, it’s not a drink. Just some wild imaginations from a superstitious, old woman.” Andy and Sylvia leaned in and stared at Miguel waiting for further explanation. Miguel sensed they wanted to know more, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to share or really why he should. Nevertheless, he continued. “My mom’s convinced there’s this white, albino guy that’s coming my way, and he’s bad news for me or anybody who meets up with him. Pretty crazy, huh?”

  Andy and Sylvia stared at Miguel. Miguel’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Miguel drew his lips in and lifted his eyebrows while rocking back and forth on his heels. Silence echoed in his ears.

  Sylvia broke the silence and said, “Yeah, that is kind of out there, no offense.”

  “None taken,” Miguel said raising his palm up, relieved that they stopped silently staring at him.

  “Well, this might be the best bear claw I’ve ever had,” Sylvia added. “And I have to agree with Andy, the coffee certainly hit the spot. It’s all so perfect. The O’Fallon’s are big fans.” Andy cocked his head to the side, trying to decide if Sylvia was bullshitting Miguel or whether she really felt comfortable with all of this.

  “Thank you. Did you say O’Fallon?”

  “Uh-huh,” Sylvia said with a mouth full of coffee soaked bear claw.

  “Any relation to Nick O’Fallon?” Sylvia stopped in mid chew and looked up at Miguel.

  She covered her mouth and asked, “You know Nicky?”

  “Of course. He’s one of my best customers.”

  Andy chimed in, “He’s our son, and we’re kind of here on an impromptu trip to see him. Small world.” That last statement referred more to Blanco Diablo than to Nick.

  “Pine Valley’s a small town,” Miguel said. “But he is one of my regulars. He and Vincent meet here almost every day. Do you know Vincent?”

  “Nicky’s mentioned the name before,” Sylvia answered. “Maybe we’ll get a chance to meet him while we’re here.”

  “I don’t know if Nick’s working the bar tonight or at home,” Miguel said. “You know his place is just a few blocks from here.”

  “No, we haven’t really checked on that just yet,” Andy said. “This is our first time to Pine Valley.” He turned his attention to Sylvia and said, “I suppose we should head that way since we’re so close and see what’s what.”

  Sylvia dipped the remaining piece of bear claw into her coffee and positioned her mouth under the dripping, larger than normal piece for the final bite. Once she got her head upright, she looked at Andy and gave him a nod of approval. She turned to Miguel and gave him a double thumbs up as her cheeks bulged with the caffeine drenched pastry. Miguel smiled and gave them both a head nod as he returned behind the counter and began closing out the register. Andy stretched out his right leg while remaining seated and fished the car keys out of his front pants pocket. Sylvia stood as she swallowed down the final bite. Andy grabbed his coffee cup and made for the front door.

  “Have a great evening, and please come back soon,” the young girl said.

  “Thank you,” they said in unison. Miguel gave a big arm wave as they made their way outside onto the sidewalk.

  “OK, that was kind of odd,” Andy said to Sylvia.

  “Not really. I always dip stuff into my coffee.”

  “You know what I’m talking about. You can’t say that isn’t strange.” Andy used the car key to unlock Sylvia’s door. Sylvia ducked her head inside the mammoth car and slid onto the seat.

  “If you say it’s strange, then ok, it’s kind of weird, I admit it. But to be honest, I’d rather not think about it.” Andy closed the passenger door and walked over to the driver side.

  Andy muttered under his breath before opening the driver door, “I’d rather not think about it, too. Damn white devils.”

 

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