Page 67 of The Persistence of Thornes
“That’s…” Not the answer I was expecting. “Very kind of you.”
He dismisses my compliment with a wave of a hand. “Anyone would do the same.”
That’s the thing, though. They wouldn’t. Caleb might be the most considerate person I’ve ever met. And despite his job, despite the horrors he’s no doubt encountered, he remains unfailingly positive and believes in the good of others.
Unable to hold back a smile, I pick up the menu. It’s sticky, the way menus are in places like this. Ignoring the sensation, I open it and give it a cursory glance. “What’s good here?”
He doesn’t bother to open his own menu. “Everything.”
A breath of a laugh escapes me. I don’t doubt that he’s spent enough time here to try every last item on the menu.
“All right, then.” I scan the choices, surprised by the variety. The salmon with beurre blanc sauce looks incredible, and the crab rangoons boast the use of real crab meat. The pasta selections all promise that the noodles are homemade.
I can’t help but survey our surroundings again, just to be sure I wasn’t transported to a much finer establishment while perusing the menu. But no, it’s still the same dive bar with the same cringy décor.
“Ty was working toward becoming a classically trainedchef when his girlfriend got pregnant. They got married, and he quit the program so he could support his family. You can probably guess how that ended up. But he saved up and bought this place a few years ago. It allows him to cook what he wants, so…” Caleb taps his fingers on the wooden tabletop. “We can go somewhere else if you want?”
“No, this is perfect.” I snap the menu shut and set it down. “I’m going to use the restroom. If the server comes by, will you order a water and the BLT for me?”
He scrunches his nose and eyes our closed menus. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
It’s the cheapest thing on the menu, and I’ll never knock a good BLT sandwich.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I give him a reassuring smile as I slide out of the booth.
Before I can ask him where the restrooms are, he points to a hallway near the back.
With a grateful nod, I head that way. I don’t really have to pee, but I want to wash the sticky substance from my hands.
When I return to the table, a tall, broad-shouldered Black man is chatting with Caleb.
I slide back into the booth and offer the man a smile and a quiet “hi.”
“Halle, this is Ty.” He nods at the man. “Ty, this is Halle.”
Ty hits me with a gigantic smile. The expression radiates happiness, instantly putting me at ease. He’s older than we are, maybe in his forties, and good-looking, with straightwhite teeth, kind eyes, and tattoos along his entire right arm.
“Nice to meet you.” He claps Caleb’s shoulder. “This one here’s a good one. I promise you that. If not for him, I would never get to see my kids. He’s my hero.”
Caleb’s cheeks pink adorably as the man gushes. It’s endearing, really, the way this grown man refers to him as his hero.
“He’s pretty great,” I agree.
If it weren’t for Caleb, there’s no telling where I’d be right about now.
“I’ll leave you to it. Holler if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Ty.” Caleb shakes his hand, and as Ty disappears through a set of doors behind the bar, he focuses on me. “I ordered our food.”
“Thanks.” I brush my hair back behind my ear, then unroll the napkin from around my silverware and fiddle with the strip of paper that once held the bundle together.
“Is something wrong?”
Caleb’s deep voice startles me. “What? Why?”
“You seem fidgety.” He looks pointedly at where I’ve wrapped the paper strip around a finger.
“Oh.” I unroll it and set it on the table. “I just… I’m hoping my brothers aren’t being menaces for Cynthia and Thelma.”
