Charlaine Harris - Day Shift

Olivia took a shower before she walked down to dinner to meet with Joe. Since the Home Cookin restaurant was the only place to eat in Midnight, it was fortunate for the Midnighters that Madonna Reed was an excellent cook of the home-style variety. Tonight, Madonna was experimenting with a chicken potpie, which meant that she’d had a lot of leftover vegetables and chicken. Since the menu at Home Cookin stayed pretty steady, a change was interesting.

Olivia met up with Manfred on the way through the door. Joe was waiting for them, and Chuy with him, which was no surprise. Rasta was sitting in Chuy’s lap. The Peke often came to meals with his humans, though Madonna had forbidden any feeding from the table or plate. Joe and Chuy had pretended to be shocked she’d think such a thing was possible. Instead of sitting at the big table in the center of the little restaurant, the usual spot for all town residents (and until the hotel had reopened they could all fit around it), the four settled in one of the booths against the west wall, which signaled they had something to talk about.

A teen boy from one of the ranches to the south of Midnight was working as a combination busboy/waiter. He hurried to bring them water and to take their drink orders. Chuy put Rasta down on the floor and pretended he wasn’t curious when Joe said, “What do you all want to talk about?”

Manfred said, “It’s like this. You know about my situation. With the law and with Lewis Goldthorpe.”

Joe and Chuy nodded.

“And you heard what Rachel said at the séance.” They nodded again.

“So Olivia has come up with a plan.”

Joe listened patiently as Manfred explained. Then Olivia told them about her bargain with Suzie, Mamie, and Tommy. Chuy, after he’d grasped the outline of the proposal, sighed and looked down at his cutlery.

“I can’t do it,” Joe said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go with the old people.”

Whatever Olivia had expected, it wasn’t a flat refusal.

“What — why?” she said, shocked.

“Olivia, we can’t be involved in this. Unless there’s a direct threat to us or our town.”

Olivia opened her mouth to protest. Chuy held up his hand.

“We aren’t what we once were. But we still have rules,” Chuy said.

“This is a direct threat,” Olivia argued.

“Not to us,” Joe said.

“Not to Midnight,” Chuy said.

“How is this different from Connor Lovell?” she asked. She did not raise her voice, but her intensity was laserlike.

Manfred inhaled sharply. He had not wanted to ever hear that name again. He knew Olivia had made a misstep.

“Let it go,” he told her. “Olivia, that’s their right.”

“Okay, then,” she said, struggling to regain her composure.

Manfred noticed uneasily that Joe’s eyes, normally a calm, boring brown, were sort of glowy. Chuy’s, too. Rasta had leaped up beside Chuy. He was relieved to see that the dog’s eyes looked absolutely normal. “We’ll make another plan, guys. No problem,” he said, in a brave attempt at a cheerful voice.

There was a lull in the conversation, during which they all took a step back from being upset.

Manfred said, “Olivia, didn’t you tell me that you were looking for a desk for your apartment?”

Olivia took the cue. “Thanks for reminding me. Joe, I do need a desk, if one comes in that’s not too fragile or pricey.”

“I did get a fauxtique desk yesterday,” Joe said, smiling. “Probably from the nineteen sixties and very sturdy. I don’t know if we could get it down the stairs to your place, though. We’d have to come around to the side, take it straight in the east door….”

They embarked on a technical discussion about moving the desk.

“Maybe I can use my high school math skills for once,” Manfred said. “I knew there was a reason I had to take it.”

They were able to have a decent dinner together, though Manfred became distracted by trying to figure out another plan. He yearned to be out from under his situation the way a man in the desert yearns to spot a palm tree.

Olivia elbowed him when he was thinking vaguely about suing Lewis for slander. Or some other defamation. “What?” he asked her.

There was a stranger inside the doorway.

“That’s Mr. Big Eyes, Shorty Horowitz’s grandson,” she said.

The stranger waited to be seated, and Manfred called, “Just take a seat anywhere. Madonna or the kid will be with you in a second.” He nodded and took one of the tables for two along the front wall. Unfortunately, it was the Rev’s table.

“Any one but that one!” Olivia said. He raised his eyebrows and pointed to the one nearest the door. They all nodded.

Olivia muttered, “I could kick myself. I should have thought that at him, to see if he’d react. I know he heard me thinking about how pretty his eyes are, at the hotel.”

The man was looking down at his silverware rather pointedly.

“He can hear my thoughts,” she said to Manfred.

Joe and Chuy had gone to the counter to talk to Madonna for a moment, while the new boy was coming to their booth with the credit card and charge slip.

“I’ve met a person who could do that, before,” Manfred said.

“You’re kidding.”

“Not at all.” Manfred signed the slip and got out of the booth to walk to the newcomer’s table. Mr. Big Eyes looked up, unsurprised.

“Hi,” Manfred said. He hesitated. “Do you, by any chance, know a waitress in Louisiana? Works in a bar in a little town called Bon Temps?”

The difference in the newcomer’s face was comical. He looked startled, alarmed, and panicky in quick succession. “Why do you want to know?” he said, with unconvincing indifference.

“Because I know her, too, and my friend here believes you share a trait with her.”

Olivia, who’d been right on his heels, stepped up to Manfred’s side.

“I’m Olivia Charity,” she said. “I hear you’re Shorty Horowitz’s grandson?”

“Your buddies told you,” the newcomer said. He was tall and lean, and he looked as if he’d spent a lot of his life looking behind him and around corners, waiting for an attack. “Yeah, I’m Rick Horowitz.”

“Manfred Bernardo.” Manfred held out his hand, and somewhat reluctantly, Rick shook it. When he let Manfred’s hand go, he looked a little surprised.

“So you do know Sookie,” he said. “You’re a friend?”

“Yes, I am,” Manfred said. “Olivia, I’ll tell you about her someday.”

“Is everyone in this town different?” Rick said, keeping his voice low.

Manfred smiled. “Brother, you have no idea,” he said. “If you’re going to be in town for a few days, drop in to see me. You can’t spend your whole time in the hotel.”

Olivia said, “We don’t see too many new faces here, Rick.”

The newcomer looked from one of them to the other. He seemed to come to a conclusion. “Please,” he said. “If we’re going to know each other beyond saying hello, you can call me Barry.”

Rick — or rather, Barry — told Manfred he’d visit the next morning. He’d glanced down at his cell phone at a weather screen, and then told them he needed to order.

“You have somewhere to be tonight,” Manfred said.

“Not exactly,” Barry said. “I don’t stay out after sunset in Texas.”

They both regarded him with some astonishment. When he didn’t expand on this statement, Manfred said, “Sure. Well, see you around.” With the new busboy hovering to take Barry’s order, they waved and left Home Cookin.

“Doesn’t stay out after sunset in Texas?” Olivia muttered to Manfred as they walked home.

“I don’t blame him,” Manfred said. “I think he’s vampire-phobic.”