They clinked glasses and sipped. Then George raised his again. “To reality TV and its powerful effect on your inner...star chart.”
“I can play this game too, smart ass—to Mikey the mailman... may he be a Taurus and one day serenade only you.”
George snorted, almost spewing wine. “OK. Sure. Cheers. Oh, and to Realty-Man Ralph... may he continue to watch us like Big Brother from every metro station, billboard, and taxi.”
“And to The Circle. May the good juju continue, blessing us all to lead happy, healthy, prosperous lives... I really need to dig out those cards.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Yeah, I’m buzzed, so what? So are you.”
“Am not.”
“Yes, you are.”
George grinned. “OK, maybe a little.” He kissed her on the nose. “Thank you, May.”
“Always. I forgot... Gertie’s dinner is still next door. Why don’t you lock up here and meet me outside?”
“Sure thing.”
She hopped off the barstool, staggering a little, retrieved the lead from her bag, and clicked it onto Gertie’s collar.
“Come on, girl.”
After a brief disgruntled look, Gertie obliged. The door closed behind them with a jingle.
George stood. Tossed the empty bottle into a trash can and put their glasses in the sink behind the bar. He turned off the lights in the kitchen, then went into the office long enough to retrieve a small box from his desk. In it was a battery-operated portrait light with a clip-on apparatus. He took the light back out into the main room and attached it to the frame of the picture he and May had hung, turning it on.
Before he met David, he had briefly dated a stage actor who had told him about ghost lights. This superstition of leaving one light on in an empty theater to keep spirits at rest had always fascinated him. The guy hadn’t lasted long—George couldn’t even remember his name—but he’d always romanced the notion, alert for an opportunity to adapt the custom himself.
He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. But before opening it, he turned back and glanced across the room at the illuminated portrait. May was right. The image was inviting—the first thing people would see upon entering.
He would schedule an electrician to hardwire a better light, but the battery-operated one would work, for now...
... keeping the ghosts at bay.
George smiled, still buzzing from the wine. A welcome sense of euphoria enveloped him—similar to the way he had felt with Mikey earlier. He couldn’t really describe it, but it felt right.
Chapter 5
George was eating his bagged lunch at Ruff Stuff. He had been sanding the floor next door all morning and was now joining May for a much needed meal break in a less dusty environment.
“So how’s it coming over there?”
“Slowly but surely. Two weeks in andalmoston schedule. Zac is coming by later today. He’s bringing a friend who wants to be a server. We’re going to discuss menus and front of house.”
“That sounds fun. Creative, at least.”
“We’re getting there. His last day at Filomena’s is tomorrow, so I’ll have him full time. Won’t be thejust meshow anymore.”
“What about the existing equipment? You said you were worried about it.”
“I was. But I’ve been lucky—the oven, stove, and grill are all good. I had to breakdown that deep fryer. It wasso gross. It cleaned it up well, though. The kitchen is in decent shape. I’m mainly focusing on the menu, aesthetics, and ambiance now, and I want Zac to be big a part of that. After all, I can’t be there 24/7. He needs to be me in the absence of me. Got me?”
“Sounds like a lot of narcissism... if you askme.”
Gertie grunted from her bed in the corner as if vetoing the pun.
