by J P Barnaby
“Say what?”
“Never mind. Hippies weren’t into crystals in your day?”
“Child, hippies were into marijuana and free love. Not that we had many around here—hippies were mostly privileged white children—but I met a few in my day.”
“Well, Ananda’s mostly into holistic stuff, not pot, and if she has any lovers, she keeps it pretty quiet. I dunno. She’s got to be in her sixties, at least.”
“Being in your sixties doesn’t mean you stop being interested in romance, Noah.”
Noah shivered. “Ew.”
Henry rolled his eyes.
THE STORE got its first customer at 10:01, and a slow, steady stream came through after that. They mostly came to browse, but some people bought, especially the children’s books. Noah heard more than one squeal from a browser who’d found a book they’d loved as a child, and once they’d gotten hooked on that, they tended to hunt for other favorites. It didn’t take long for him to fall back into the once-familiar rhythm of bookselling.
He definitely needed an updated register. While the antique was attractive, having to write down the book information every time he made a sale slowed things down to a ridiculous pace. Most of the customers were pretty patient, though, accepting it as part of the antiquey feel of the store. He wondered if there was a way to integrate the old brass register with a computer the way that some old typewriters had been. He’d have to ask one of his techy friends.
Before he knew it, it was 6:00 p.m. and his stomach was growling. He’d grabbed a PBJ at lunchtime, but aside from that, he hadn’t eaten most of the day. He’d drunk quite a lot of sweet tea, though, and the sugar was already hitting his stomach hard. With a sigh of relief, he flipped the sign over to Closed and locked up.
“A good day,” Henry said from the wing chair in the corner.
“Yeah, not too shabby. We brought in about fifteen hundred, so I think we made a profit, anyway. How much it helps, I dunno.”
“Every little bit counts. Everything you make can go toward the loan. You don’t need to restock just yet. It’s more important that you reestablish that Stardust is still here and still functioning.”
“Until it isn’t.” Noah flicked off the lights and wandered to the back.
Chapter Thirteen
ON SUNDAY Noah drove Miss Edna to church in the rental car. The minister was the same man who’d handled his dad’s service, a large but soft-spoken black man with a warm grin and a gentle way with a sermon. Neither Noah nor Charlie had been much of a churchgoer, but Noah liked this guy and didn’t mind sitting in the pew with Miss Edna.
Miss Sarah and Kyle were there too, but sat behind them, so Noah didn’t see them until they were leaving. As they walked out into the churchyard, the two ladies drifted over to a knot of other women, abandoning their escorts. Noah grinned wryly at Kyle. “Church ladies,” he said.
Kyle frowned faintly but didn’t seem to get the joke. Instead he said, “Why do they wear those big hats? Is that part of the religion? The younger ladies don’t wear hats at all.”
“Part of the religion? No—why? Do ladies not wear hats where you come from? I mean, I never went to church in New York, so I don’t know if older ladies wear hats there, but here in Aster they always did. I kind of thought it was a small-town thing, maybe a Southern thing. Even though my dad and I hardly ever went, you see them all over town in the hats. It’s a thing.” Noah shrugged. “Dad said it started with the black ladies getting all dressed up for church, ’cause they always did that, and then the white ladies started doing it, and then there was kind of an informal competition for who could wear the fanciest hat. The pastor who was in charge then put the kibosh on that, though, now they just coordinate their outfits.”
“The women in my church don’t wear hats. Nobody does. It’s considered disrespectful.”
“Huh.”
Edna and Sarah looked settled in for a while, so Noah wandered over toward the little graveyard attached to the church. The dirt was still mounded over his dad’s grave, but they had put several pieces of sod over the top to keep the dirt from getting washed away by rain, which meant it didn’t look as raw as Noah’s heart felt. Fresh flowers were scattered across it, and he smiled at the kindness of their little town. They did love Charlie.
Beside him, Kyle said, “The other people here have markers. Will your dad have a marker too?”
“Yeah. They have to carve it yet.”
“Is your mama buried here too?”
Noah blinked. “My mother’s not dead. At least not that I know of. Last I heard she was living in Vegas.”
“Oh. I thought—Miss Sarah mentioned it was sad about your mom, and I thought she meant she had passed. She doesn’t live with you?”
“Oh, hell no. She dumped us years ago and took off. Dad had to hire a detective to find her to serve the divorce papers.”
“Oh,” Kyle said again. “I knew there were people in Chicago who were divorced, but I didn’t know people from places like this did. I thought it was a city thing.”
“Dude, are you saying you don’t have divorced people where you came from?”
Kyle flushed. “It was a really small place. Very….”
“Conservative?”
“Yes. Conservative.”
They walked out of earshot of the milling crowd saying their Southern goodbyes. They were usually about half an hour from the initial goodbye to actually leaving.
“Sounds like it. Can I ask you something?” Noah touched his arm.
“Sure you can.” Kyle stopped next to him.
“You mentioned you worked a coffee cart in Chicago? You were a barista?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s what it’s called, a barista. I don’t really know what that means, but it’s what I did. I have a certificate and stuff.”
“’Cause Dad was making plans to introduce a coffee bar in the bookstore, and I don’t know diddly about coffee, and I thought maybe we could work out a deal. Like I’d help you get set up, and you could run the coffee bar, and we could work out percentages and stuff. On the net profits and all. If there are any. I don’t know jack about running a coffee bar.”
Kyle’s eyes were wide. “I can’t. I mean, it would have to be cash—”
Noah blinked, but Kyle didn’t look shady to him. Maybe he had some kind of tax problem.
“The stuff is all sitting right there, and it would bring people into the store, maybe. We could talk to Miss Jessie down at the diner and see if we could buy some pastries from her. That might get people interested. I have no idea how much it would cost to keep it going, but if it’s within reason, maybe we could do it. Like, fancy coffee, how do we keep it going…?”
“Looks like you’ve got a multifunction espresso maker with a frother and grinder, according to the box, but it won’t handle a huge number of people….”
“There aren’t a huge number of people in Aster,” Noah pointed out.
“Yeah. So if you’re only expecting to sell a few cups a day, you can use that one.”
“How few?”
Kyle shrugged. “Less than fifty? You’d burn out the machine if you did much more. We handled way more than that from the cart, but then we were in a really busy office building that didn’t have a restaurant on site. We probably couldn’t charge what he did for coffee.”
“I think it could work, maybe?”
“Maybe.”
Miss Edna was waving at him, and he waved back. “Duty calls,” he said to Kyle. “I imagine Miss Sarah’s ready to head home too.” He hesitated. “By the way—can you drive a truck?”
“Yes. But—I don’t have a valid license.”
“I need to return the car to the rental place by the airport, but I need a ride back home. If you haven’t gotten your Georgia license yet, your Illinois one would be okay.”
“No. I don’t have a license at all. Well… I do, but it’s not in my name.”
“Do I want to know why?”
“Not really.”
Noah sighed again. “Okay. Does it look legit?”
“Well—yes.”
“Okay. Tomorrow morning about nine okay?”
Kyle blinked. “Um, yes?”
“Don’t worry, you can just follow me. I’ve driven to the airport more times than you could imagine.”
“Good. Because I’ve never been there.”
Noah grinned. “Piece of cake.”
“Cake?”
“I mean it’s easy.”
“Oh, okay. Piece of cake.”
Noah grinned again.
Chapter Fourteen
NOAH ROLLED his shoulders and grabbed one of the breakfast sandwiches out of the freezer. Miss Edna thought frozen food was a sin, but it was quick and easy and didn’t require him to think too much. Wrap it in a paper towel and then nuke for ninety seconds, flip it and fifty-five more seconds—for which he hit a minute anyway because he was lazy.
While the biscuit turned in the microwave, Noah grabbed both of Jake’s bowls. He rinsed out and refilled the water, and then dumped both wet and dry food into the other. They’d gotten into a practiced routine in the mornings since he had gotten there almost two weeks before. Just as Noah set the bowl down on the floor, the microwave beeped. He grabbed the sandwich and a Coke (another breakfast sin) and sat down at the table.
He’d stopped stepping around that spot on the floor. It seemed like such a childish thing to do. Like that game ‘step on a crack and break your mother’s back.’ What happened if you stepped on the place where your dad died? What did you break, then?
Noah ate in silence with Jake’s head on his foot. Jake seemed to need a lot of affection; he wanted to be constantly touching Noah. Either when they sat on the couch, or they were at the bookstore, or even just hanging out in the backyard. Maybe Jake thought he would leave him too.
His phone beeped and he looked down to see Yeira’s name. He’d thought maybe Karen had come to her senses. He hadn’t heard from her since she set her arbitrary deadline.
Got a lead on a story today.
Guilt crashed over him. He hadn’t even thought about how Yeira’s life had changed since he’d been gone or how it would change if he never came back. Noah had been so obsessed with his own problems, he forgot other people in the world existed.
That’s great. Your boss going to let you run with it?
I have to validate my sources, but yeah—I think I’ll get my first solo story. Normally I’m just doing background for other people.
That’s awesome!
Yeah, wish my mom thought so.
I’d say she’d come around, but we know she won’t.
She wants me to be a dental hygienist or something. Says I should have had enough tragedy and bad news for ten lifetimes. She doesn’t understand that I’m trying to help people. He’d met Yeira’s mother a few times when she came to the apartment, and she wasn’t a woman he’d want to be on the bad side of. But Yeira had grown up in a war zone, which gave her a stronger backbone than anyone he knew. He envied her strength and confidence.
I know. Maybe once you’re writing your own stories, you can show her.
Thanks. How are things there?
About what you’d expect. My boss threatened to fire me, my dad was over his head in debt, and I’m trying to run a business that I know nothing about. A lump formed in his throat as he piled up the list of everything wrong in his life right then.
You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.
He started to tell her about Henry but stopped. Would she think he was crazy? It didn’t seem like something a normal person would talk about. And it felt… well… special to him, like he didn’t want to share Henry with anyone.
Hey, I’ve got to get to the station. They lived a few stops from her job, but she always left early because in New York, anything could happen.
Give ’em hell!
A shadow crossed the back door, and Jake looked up as Kyle knocked.
“Come on in, it’s open,” Noah called. It hadn’t taken long for the twang in his voice to return. In fact, as he called it out, he heard shades of Charlie.
“Good morning.” Kyle leaned on the doorframe like he wasn’t sure he wanted to enter the room.
“Mornin’.” Noah took another bite of his biscuit and nodded toward the chair across. Kyle glanced around first but then pulled out the chair and sat.
“Want a sandwich?” Noah asked. “I can make you one.”
“Nah, Miss Sarah already fed me biscuits and gravy. I think I’ve gained ten pounds since I moved here.” He patted his stomach and sat back in the chair.
“You look great to me,” Noah muttered and Kyle blushed.
“So, uhm…,” he stammered. “You want me to drive the truck to the airport right behind you, right? And then you’ll bring us home?”
“Yeah, that’s it. I need to return this rental car, which is costing me a fortune. You said you don’t have a license. Did you ever have one?”
“No. I wasn’t old enough when I left Mon—when I left home, and there wasn’t any reason to get one in Chicago. You can get just about anywhere on the El.”
“The El?”
“That’s what they call the trains in Chicago. Because they’re elevated above the city.”
“Makes sense—in New York it was the subway, below ground.”
“You can’t get anywhere here without a car,” Kyle mused. “You just have to walk around town. Good thing it’s not very big.”
“Thought about getting your license here? I could help,” Noah offered.
“Nope.” Kyle closed the door on the subject with one curt word.
Noah finished up his sandwich in two large bites and screwed the cap back on his Coke. He tossed his paper towel into the trash and glanced around the kitchen. Jake still lay under the table with a hopeful expression.
“Okay, you. I’m going to turn on the TV. Don’t look at me like that. You don’t get human food at every meal.” Noah stepped into the living room and turned on a sports channel. The Falcons would be playing in a while, and every good Southern dog loved his football, right?
“Did you do a lot of driving where you were from?” Noah asked as he grabbed the truck keys from the hook by the door.
“Enough. I drove small trucks around picking up and dropping off stuff around the… neighborhood.” He paused like he’d been searching for that last word.
“Okay, use your GPS to find the airport in case we get separated. We’re going to the car rental area. They’re all in one place.”
“My GPS?”
“Yeah, on your phone. Haven’t you ever used GPS to get somewhere? You lived in Chicago.”
“I don’t have a phone.”
Noah stared at him. “You don’t have a cell phone?”
“No. I don’t have anyone to talk to. Why would I need a phone?”
That one statement—so simple, but profound. Kyle didn’t have a cell phone because he didn’t have any friends—not back home, not in Chicago, and not here. It felt like the full truth of Kyle’s life had just slammed into the side of his head.
High school had been a bitch, but once Noah got to NYU, he made friends easily. After graduation when he started working, he made friends. But Kyle didn’t. He didn’t even keep a phone to talk to his parents.
“Do you keep up with your aunt and uncle in Chicago?” Noah managed.
“Yes, but we talk on the house phone. Aunt Mary isn’t much for technology either.” Kyle smiled.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone without a cell phone. You’re like one of the seven wonders of the world.”
“Now you’re poking fun at me.” Kyle’s face darkened, and he turned toward the door.
“Only a little,” Noah said and put his arm around Kyle for a quick squeeze and then headed out onto the back porch. Kyle followed, and Noah tossed him the keys.
“Now you have me,” Noah said with a grin.
Kyle blushed. “I’d like that.”
; Noah couldn’t think of anything else to say, so he opened the door of the truck and stood next to it.
“Be careful,” Noah said, butterflies hitting him at the thought of something happening to his dad’s truck. All of a sudden he was sixteen again and driving that thing for the first time.
“I will. Don’t worry, Noah. I can drive, even if the state of Georgia doesn’t know that.” Kyle rolled his eyes and got in the truck.
It took them forty-seven minutes to get to the airport, and Kyle stayed on his ass the entire way, even when he nearly missed an exit. That was an impressive maneuver. Together they’d nearly taken out the roadside hotel sign, but they made it. Noah could see the fear and excitement in Kyle’s eyes when he pulled up next to him. Kyle grinned back.
“Wow,” Noah said, the sting of the final rental bill ringing in his ears as he headed back out to where Kyle sat on the tailgate of the pickup.
“Wow?”
“It was expensive. It’s been two weeks, and I should have taken this back days ago, but—”
“But you couldn’t face that your father was really dead.” Kyle slid down and closed the tailgate with a metallic clang.
“Yeah.”
“There have been a lot of things in my life I’ve had to face. You do it, and you get past it. If you don’t, then life just gets harder.” He shrugged and walked around to the passenger side.
Noah wanted to press, to ask what kinds of things he’d had to face, but he got the feeling that Kyle didn’t want to talk about it, so he changed gears. “When did you come live with Miss Sarah?” he asked, turning the ignition and letting the big truck shudder to life.
“I’ve been here about a month and a half, maybe? Came down on a bus from Chicago. Uncle Frank wanted to drive me, but he didn’t want to leave Aunt Mary by herself. I didn’t mind, really. I had a couple of books; they got me through.” Kyle pulled one foot up to cross the opposite knee.
“I thought you didn’t like to read.” Noah checked the mirror and pulled out onto the roundabout that circled the airport.
