While Everett idled on the path leading from the parking garage, his phone, which was secured in Caleb’s windshield mount, started to ring. Everett’s father, Cedric, was calling.
Everett accepted the call. “Hey, Dad. Good morning.”
“Morning. I’m not waking you up, am I?”
“Nah—I’ve been up for probably an hour now. Caleb and I had something going on this morning. Nothing bad. Just something that needed our attention.”
“Everything’s okay?”
“Yep.” There was a break in traffic. Everett eased the Jaguar onto the street and merged. Up ahead there’d been an accident, and the police were directing traffic off the street in either direction at the nearest intersection. No wonder it had been so congested. Everett glanced at the map on his phone, then mentally adjusted his route. The detour wouldn’t throw him off all that badly. “What’s going on with you? It’s a little early for you to be up, isn’t it?”
His father snorted. “I got six hours. I consider that a win.”
“Not bad.” The police waved on traffic, and Everett followed. “So, what’s happening? Are you just calling to catch up?”
“Nope. Not unless you’ve got news to share. I was calling to ask if I’ll see you at work tonight.”
Everett wrinkled his nose. “Shit, it’s Saturday, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“I’ll be there.” Everett inched forward, flicked on the turn signal, and cut down the street that ran perpendicular to West Madison. The app on his phone, sensing he’d gone off-course, beeped angrily and began to recalculate his route. “What time do you want me on? Seven? Or do you want me in around five so I can help open?”
“Five.”
Another early night. Everett pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and considered what to make of it. Over the last few months, his schedule had been in a state of flux—what had once been a part-time position helping his father run his club had turned into something more serious. These days, he was equally busy manning the floor as he was learning what it took behind the scenes to keep a place like The Shepherd up and running. The subtext of the change wasn’t hard to read—he was being groomed to take over the business. Although his father was spry and in good spirits, there would come a day when he would start to slow down. When that day came, it would be up to Everett to take his place.
The thought was bittersweet for more than one reason.
“You got it.” Everett quashed the uneasy feeling rising in his gut and focused on the positive. “Want me to bring in a pizza? Who’s going to be there? Clarissa?”
“You, me, and Clarissa.”
“Pizza it is. Half cheese, half deluxe.”
There was a pause. When Everett’s father spoke again, he sounded hesitant. “Are you driving right now?”
Everett made another turn. His phone beeped angrily again. “Yeah. You’re on speakerphone, but no one else is in the car, so it’s not a big deal. Gage asked if I could pick up the kids from his babysitter this morning and hang on to them until later this afternoon. I think Aaron must have taken him somewhere special.”
“Are the kids with you now?”
“Nope. I’m on my way to pick them up.”
“You’re more than welcome to bring them home, you know. Your dad and I would be more than happy to see them.”
Everett’s parents lived in a renovated farmhouse outside of Aurora. While the drive wasn’t necessarily long, the area was rural, and Everett could only imagine what it would be like to trek all the way out there in Caleb’s prized sports car.
Everett laughed. “I’m borrowing Caleb’s Jag right now, Dad. I think the gravel driveway alone would tear the underbelly to pieces.”
“What happened to your Ford?”
“I’ve got it in storage. These days, I pretty much only take it out when I come to visit you and Dad. Renting a parking space from the homeowners association in our building would have cost four times as much as a storage unit, so Caleb and I worked out an arrangement where I can borrow his car when I need to.”
Another silence. Everett came to a stop at a red light and resisted a deep-rooted sigh. Caleb. Lately, mention of his name alone was enough to steer the conversation to uncomfortable places.
“How is Caleb, anyway?” Everett’s father asked.
It had begun.
