David said. “That’s such a bummer, Abby Craig, not seeing colors. Have you always been that way?”
I shook my head.
“No,” I said cautiously. I didn’t want to get into my story. “I can remember what most colors look like. But someone has to say what they are and then I’ll try to visualize them.”
I told him about Kate and how she was painting the house and how she always was telling me what the colors were but how they were pretty much all shades of gray to me.
“Yuck,” he said. “Can’t they do something for that? It’s like the 21 st century. They can do anything.”
I shrugged as I sat back in the seat.
“Maybe someday,” I said. “Hopefully.”
The waiter stopped by our table and asked how everything was and David started talking to him about how he had to wait two hours one time back in the summer to get a table with his friends outside. When the waiter left, he started talking about the different people who worked at Back Street over the last year. I tried to think about how to get our conversation back on track.
“David Norton,” I said, interrupting him. “I need your help.”
That seemed to do the trick.
“Tell me what you need,” he said, his face serious.
“How did Spenser die?”
He looked around, as if checking to make sure Mo wasn’t sitting behind us. The tables were filling up, but she wasn’t there.
“He was killed by a hit and run driver one night out on China Hat Road. They found his body by the side of the road in the morning. Sad, huh? It was a while ago, like three years. Spenser was a lot younger than Mo, but I’m guessing they were really tight.”
“So it was an accident,” I said.
“Yep. The woman who hit him turned herself in the next day. She did a little time for it. Get this. She was talking on her cell phone at the time and said that Spenser just ran out in front of her. But Mo said she doesn’t believe the bitch. She says that she must have swerved into him as she was gabbing and didn’t pay attention.”
A heaviness hung over us as I thought about what Mo had gone through.
I glanced around. There were a lot more people now and they all seemed so happy, laughing and drinking, meeting up with friends. I wondered why some people were so lucky, while others weren’t.
“I’m surprised she talks to you about it,” I said. “She was very clear that she didn’t like to talk about Spenser at all.”
“Well, I have a little trick with that,” David said. “Alcohol. She only talks about things like that when she’s hammered. You know, I see her out at the bars a lot. We hang together sometimes.”
He sighed, played with the paper wrapping from my straw.
“But I promised her that I wouldn’t ever say anything about this. And now look at me. Big Mouth Jones. It’s your fault. You’ve filled me with beer and I’ve spilled my guts.”
“I thought your last name was Norton.”
“Norton. Jones. What’s in a name?”
He was kind of kidding, but I could see that he also felt bad. He drained his glass.
“Well, this is all on me,” I said.
“Damn right it is, girlfriend,” he said, pouting. “And by the way, I’m not cheap.”
He signaled the waiter and ordered another beer and some French fries.
“I appreciate it, David. Really. Thanks.”
“Look. Just leave her alone and she’ll come around and eventually return to the six words a day she used to say to you. That’s my best advice. Just don’t mention Spenser again.”
I smiled.
The young waiter came back with the food and David told him about how I was dating Ty.
“I know Ty,” the waiter said, smiling. “You must be Abby.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“I’m John. He talks about you all the time. Good to meet you.”
I smiled shyly, not knowing what to say. He left and I rolled my eyes at David.
“What? Everybody in the place needs to know that BB is off limits,” he said. “There’s too many cute young things working here. I’m just looking out for you,
I shook my head.
“No,” I said cautiously. I didn’t want to get into my story. “I can remember what most colors look like. But someone has to say what they are and then I’ll try to visualize them.”
I told him about Kate and how she was painting the house and how she always was telling me what the colors were but how they were pretty much all shades of gray to me.
“Yuck,” he said. “Can’t they do something for that? It’s like the 21 st century. They can do anything.”
I shrugged as I sat back in the seat.
“Maybe someday,” I said. “Hopefully.”
The waiter stopped by our table and asked how everything was and David started talking to him about how he had to wait two hours one time back in the summer to get a table with his friends outside. When the waiter left, he started talking about the different people who worked at Back Street over the last year. I tried to think about how to get our conversation back on track.
“David Norton,” I said, interrupting him. “I need your help.”
That seemed to do the trick.
“Tell me what you need,” he said, his face serious.
“How did Spenser die?”
He looked around, as if checking to make sure Mo wasn’t sitting behind us. The tables were filling up, but she wasn’t there.
“He was killed by a hit and run driver one night out on China Hat Road. They found his body by the side of the road in the morning. Sad, huh? It was a while ago, like three years. Spenser was a lot younger than Mo, but I’m guessing they were really tight.”
“So it was an accident,” I said.
“Yep. The woman who hit him turned herself in the next day. She did a little time for it. Get this. She was talking on her cell phone at the time and said that Spenser just ran out in front of her. But Mo said she doesn’t believe the bitch. She says that she must have swerved into him as she was gabbing and didn’t pay attention.”
A heaviness hung over us as I thought about what Mo had gone through.
I glanced around. There were a lot more people now and they all seemed so happy, laughing and drinking, meeting up with friends. I wondered why some people were so lucky, while others weren’t.
“I’m surprised she talks to you about it,” I said. “She was very clear that she didn’t like to talk about Spenser at all.”
“Well, I have a little trick with that,” David said. “Alcohol. She only talks about things like that when she’s hammered. You know, I see her out at the bars a lot. We hang together sometimes.”
He sighed, played with the paper wrapping from my straw.
“But I promised her that I wouldn’t ever say anything about this. And now look at me. Big Mouth Jones. It’s your fault. You’ve filled me with beer and I’ve spilled my guts.”
“I thought your last name was Norton.”
“Norton. Jones. What’s in a name?”
He was kind of kidding, but I could see that he also felt bad. He drained his glass.
“Well, this is all on me,” I said.
“Damn right it is, girlfriend,” he said, pouting. “And by the way, I’m not cheap.”
He signaled the waiter and ordered another beer and some French fries.
“I appreciate it, David. Really. Thanks.”
“Look. Just leave her alone and she’ll come around and eventually return to the six words a day she used to say to you. That’s my best advice. Just don’t mention Spenser again.”
I smiled.
The young waiter came back with the food and David told him about how I was dating Ty.
“I know Ty,” the waiter said, smiling. “You must be Abby.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“I’m John. He talks about you all the time. Good to meet you.”
I smiled shyly, not knowing what to say. He left and I rolled my eyes at David.
“What? Everybody in the place needs to know that BB is off limits,” he said. “There’s too many cute young things working here. I’m just looking out for you,
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