Jack did his best to keep up with her as she made her way past the people standing in line and through an arched doorway, parting a red curtain that he’d not noticed before.
On the other side were eight circular tables, a bank of red-curtained windows, and a wall lined with wine bottles in a built-in wooden rack. This room was a little quieter, though still packed.
Morgan was seated at a table near the front, his cane and coat on a hook on the wall. Jack sat next to him and accepted a plastic-covered menu from the woman in the red apron. She poured some red wine from a jug into a wine glass for him and said, “I’ll be right back to take your orders.”
“How’d you get a seat so fast?” Jack asked, his mouth watering as he glanced at the menu.
“Evidently,” Morgan said, looking bemused, “I amMr.Malone now.” He put his menu down and leaned closer to Jack.
Jack leaned in to meet him.
“Everybody knows about the loans,” Morgan said, “because, evidently, the folks I’ve called about that ledger turned around and called everyone in town to tell them. Jeannine, the hostess, who I’ve never met, knew all about it. Knew all about me.”
“So you’re famous,” Jack said with a bit of a laugh. “You’ll never have to wait in line for anything again.”
“I’m not going to take advantage of that,” Morgan said, frowning. “I don’t work half as hard as these people.”
“You did tonight, taking this table,” Jack pointed out with some relish.
“Jeannine was going to make a fuss.” Morgan shook his head. “And I was a bit overwhelmed, so I didn’t argue.”
Jack attempted to soothe him by brushing fingertips across his arm and smiled when Morgan relaxed beneath his touch.
“It’s just going to be different now,” Morgan said. “They only like me because I agreed to loan those farmers money.”
“They like you because you’re a good guy,” Jack said stoutly.
Morgan went still and looked at Jack, his blue eyes dark, worry creasing his forehead. Jack wanted to touch him there, to ease the worry from his face, to find the words to convince Morgan that it was going to be okay.
“Don’t be scared,” he said. “And don’t be grumpy. Let’s order too much pizza and a whole pitcher of beer and get so drunk that Young Tommy has to drive us home, and tomorrow Mabel will call and scold us for being out of control. Then Ambrose and the guys will come over demanding coffee and donuts, and we’ll have hangovers and feel like shit, but it’ll be our lives. Don’t you see?”
Jack took a breath, ready to start another onslaught of encouragement, then stopped because Morgan was smiling at him.
“I do see,” Morgan said. “When you look at me the way you do. You make me see it, too.”
“Then I’ll just have to keep on looking at you,” Jack said, warm inside his heart, a bubble of happiness filling him. “Now, let’s eat.”
They did what Jack had proposed: eating an entire extra-large pizza and guzzling not one but two pitchers of beer. After which Jeannine and Morgan had an argument about the bill, while Jack asked the nearest waitress to call a cab, which she did.
In the end, Morgan won and handed Jeannine his credit card, only both he and Jack forgot she had it, and she had to chase after them to return it when they went out into the parking lot to wait for the taxi. A little bit drunk, hanging on each other and laughing, not feeling the cold, not one little bit.
“Is it snowing?” Jack asked, looking up at the sky, which looked like it was full of white dots.
“No,” Morgan growled as he slung himself into the back seat of the taxi, its tailpipe chuffing smoke. “Get in, it’s freezing.”
The taxi dropped them right in front of the feed and grain. Jack hauled Morgan out and kept him from slipping, then reached into his wallet for one of the twenties Morgan had given him early on and never asked for back. Early on, when they’d not known or trusted each other.
“Here,” Jack said. “Keep the change. Owen, is it?”
“Yes, sir,” Owen said. “Stay warm.”
Before going inside, they paused under the single light shining down like an icy halo. It was definitely snowing now, the white dots turning into true flakes that danced downward to join the snow already on the ground, briefly balancing on their edges before settling into the drifts.
“Say it again,” Jack said. “Just one more time.”
“I’ll say it as many times as you like,” Morgan said, swaying a little. “As many times as I please. All the time.”
“Just say it.”
