CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“ All hail, our missing corporate troubleshooter has risen.”
Newman walked into the Hoot to find Buster wiping down tables in an apron that should make him look soft but didn’t. It was one of life’s mysteries how the man managed to look like a wrestler dressed like that.
“Two days, baker boy. Surely you didn’t miss me that much?” Newman kept his voice light. His friends knew him better than anyone, even his parents. It would only take the scent that something was up with him and they’d pry mercilessly.
Buster came to stand beside him. Newman opened a cabinet and got out a pie. He couldn’t avoid his friend, so he looked at him. “Coffee, get to it.”
“What’s up?”
“Nothing. I need coffee and food.”
“No, there’s that line there.” Buster poked him in the forehead.
“Ouch.”
“Wimp.”
“Am not.”
“Are so.”
“Can I have coffee now you’re done abusing me?”
“Sure. What’s up? You can tell Uncle Buster.”
“Nothing’s up.”
“Okay. I’m making coffee now, you go and sit, and think about how you’re going to tell me.”
“I’ll have it to go.” Newman felt it again, the panic he thought he’d got a handle on. Seeing Hope had calmed him. Seeing Buster ignited the anxiety once more.
He was going to be a father.
“Don’t think so,” Buster said. “Sit. I’ll bring coffee.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Just leave it, Buster.”
He couldn’t talk about it, not until they’d told their parents and were ready to speak about it openly.
“Sit.”
Newman took the pie to a table and sat. He was an adult, he didn’t have to say anything if he chose not to.
“When’s your mom and dad back?”
“Next week. They’re in Seattle visiting Mom’s sister, because she’s just had surgery on her leg.” Newman spoke in the voice he always used. He was a good talker, and could discuss anything. No need to touch on the subject of him and Hope, or the baby.
Jesus, I’m going to be a father. The thought had the breath rushing in and out of his mouth. Newman needed to be in control. Needed to be on top of any situation. Help if he could, fixing it would be even better. This, he was struggling to come to grips with.
How was it that moments ago, with Hope, he’d felt calmer? They’d spoken rationally about taking small steps, so why was he now back in panic mode?
He’d just spent two days by himself, and come out the other side, he’d thought, with a better understanding of what needed to be done. He’d been fooling himself. He knew shit.
“You’re pale, bud. Need to put your head between your knees, or blow in a bag? I can help you with both.”
Buster put the coffee before him, and Newman grabbed it with both hands and inhaled. The aroma helped steady him.
“I’m good. Got a stomach upset or something.”
“You’re lying to me, Paul, and that makes me worried. You’re not a liar, nor do you get panicky. I’ve known you since our first day of school, and until this moment I didn’t believe you would hide anything from me.”
“Come on, really? Surely I’m allowed some secrets.”
“Sure, I don’t want to know about your love life, or even what color shorts you’re wearing under your Louis Vuittons. But big stuff, that we share.”
“Leave it, Buster. Please.”
His friend heaved a sigh, then settled in the seat across from Newman.
“Here’s the thing. You’ve always been there for me. Always helped, fixed, done what needed to be done for me and everyone else. And we’re grateful, man… truly. You’re a fucking saint. But right now, it’s you that needs help returned, and I’m offering, but you’re not taking.”
“I’m not a saint. You make me sound like some do-gooding superhero.”
“I never mentioned superhero, bud.” Buster smiled, more a slight stretch of his lips, but his eyes were smiling.
“It was implied.”
“Like hell.”
“I like the idea of a superpower,” Newman said, enjoying the silly conversation because it drew his mind away from Hope and the baby. “I could be Captain Fucking Awesome, or something.”
“More like Captain Pretty Boy. Now spill.”
“I never told you I was adopted, did I?” The words came out before he could stop them again, because he’d told Hope, and suddenly he didn’t want his birth to be a dirty secret anymore. To hell with what his father thought.
For so long those words had lain deep and heavy inside him. Words that had made him into the man he was today. A pleaser. Someone who needed to be accepted. Because his father never let him forget that he owed him for taking him on.
It was rare to see Buster shocked, but Newman had managed it.
“Say what?”
Newman sipped his coffee, and strangely felt more of the tightness inside him ease. Just some, not the huge lump of fear he had about the baby, but the other lump that had always been there.
“How the hell have you kept that quiet? Further to the point, why have you?”
“My father didn’t want anyone to know he and Mom couldn’t have children.”
“You’re shitting me?”
Newman shook his head.
“Wow.” Buster took up his mug and swallowed. “That’s some shit to carry around. It’s amazing you’re not a complete whack job. Ever wondered?”
“Sure. Had a look at finding my birth mom and stuff, but came up short. Plus, it upset Mom, when I told her.” Actually, his father had threatened to disown him if he continued, and while that hadn’t bothered him overly, it had upset his mom more.
Buster studied him. Newman drank more coffee and waited for the questions his friend was forming.
“Okay, so you’re probably carrying some shit about this, and I’m here if you need to talk about it. Still pretty pissed you haven’t before, but I can understand why. So we’ll shelve that for now. What else you got?”
“My father is a control freak asshole.”
“Now you’re just messing with me.”
“No, actually. What you saw was what he wanted people to see. He wasn’t like that to me.”
Buster looked mean. “He hit you or something?”
“No, nothing like that. Just controlling.”
“I thought you had it all going on.”
“Not so much. You were the child who had it all going on.”
“Actually, my dad used to make me have a bath every night. What’s with that?”
Newman laughed as he was meant to.
“I’m sorry that we didn’t know, Newman. But it does explain a bit.”
“About what?”
“I love your mom and stuff, and used to love your dad, but now not so much. But you are way smarter than them.”
Newman raised his mug.
“Your biological father could be like, Albert Einstein or something.”
“Pretty sure he’s dead.”
Buster waved a hand about.
“It’s cool though. You get two sets of parents.”
Newman had never thought of it that way. His birth had always been a dark secret. Looking across the table at his friend, he liked his take on it better. He didn’t answer, just grunted.
“Okay, so we got the birth thing, the father’s an asshole thing. And on that, he’s not getting a free cake with his coffee anymore, just saying.”
“You gave him free shit?”
“Nothing in this cafe is shit, but yes. He always managed to get something out of me.”
“Tight bastard.”
“Good thing you don’t carry his blood then.”
It is , Newman thought.
“So anyway, what else is bothering you?”
“That’s not enough?”
“Hidey-ho, the constabulary has just arrived,” Buster said.
Newman was relieved to see Cubby walk in, even if his face was drawn and he could barely keep his eyes open.
“Tough night, bud?”
“Long,” Cubby grunted. “Fucking long.”
Buster got up to make coffee.
“What’s up?”
“Those Wildlife peeps had a break-in, and two cameras got stolen. Actually they’ve had several things happen, but this is the first one they’ve told me about.”
Newman wasn’t sure why he had a funny feeling all of a sudden, but he did.
“What things?”
“Tires slashed, and smashed headlights. Someone spray painted the word ‘asshole’ on one of their vans.”
“And they’re only letting you know now?”
“I asked them that when I got there at 4:00 a.m., which was the time they were loading up to head out for a shoot. I’ve been there since. Photographing, taking statements. Strangely, no one heard a thing. Which is just plain weird, considering the room it was stored in was in the house.”
“What’d they say?”
“That they know the person responsible and didn’t want to make trouble for her.”
“It’s not Hope,” Newman said.
Cubby stumbled into the seat across from him, with a pie that he was consuming with all the ferocity of a man facing his last meal.
“I’m not going to lie to you, Newman, that Ms. Linear is throwing Hope’s name around like confetti. Not that she will get anywhere without evidence, but still, not nice for your girl.”
“Hope didn’t do it, Cubby.”
“I know it, but they’re making murmurs. Seems you and she got into an argument with the head lady of Wildlife, right here on the streets. And she thinks Hope did this as payback for being fired.”
“No way. They’re just going at her because they can. Plus there’s the professional jealousy they have that Hope’s working with John Finch, and they’re not.”
Cubby held up a hand as Newman started to get out of his chair.
“Didn’t say I believed it, bud. Just telling you what they’re thinking. I know Hope as well as you, and I also know she’d never do this, or anything illegal. Militant may not be one of my favorite citizens, but I know her morals are strong. Her daughter is the same.”
Newman sat again. “She’s a good person.”
“Seems to me she’d have to be if she’s interested in you.”
“Was that a compliment, Sheriff?”
The sheriff looked at him through bloodshot eyes. “Pretty sure it was, but then I’m tired, and could be talking out my ass.”
“Nah, you love me.”
Cubby grunted, then started on his muffin.
“Tell him. You have to, now you’ve told me.” Buster yelled the words from his coffee machine.
“No, I don’t, and maybe I wanted it kept between us,” Newman replied.
“Just say it, pretty boy.”
“Someone better say something and fast, because I’m tired and that makes me mean.” Cubby yawned and looked so far removed from mean that Newman snorted.
“I’m adopted, Cubby.”
“Really, wow? You kept that quiet.”
“My father didn’t want anyone to know.”
“Not sure why. Being adopted is something to be proud of from where I’m sitting. Seems to me two sets of parents love you. One gave you away because they couldn’t care for you properly, and the second took you because they wanted a child to love.”
Newman liked the sound of that too.
“Always thought you were different. What’s keeping you, Buster? A man’s dying here!”
Newman laughed softly. He’d told two of his friends, and both had taken the news about his birth in their strides. Sharing was freeing, he realized.
“So I need to talk to Hope now, Newman. Her ex-boss wants answers, or she’s going to start screaming loud and long.”
This would be hard on her, Newman realized. Really hard. Hope was loyal, and she’d taken what had happened with Jay Herald hard. And now she was pregnant, which only added to the emotion she was carrying around inside her. Better to get this done and soon , he thought. He didn’t want her hearing anything from anyone else.
“Okay, let’s go.”
“I don’t believe I asked you to come.”
“Tough.”