Page 19 of Even After This
I release a long, dramatic sigh. “Are any other ridiculously famous people joining us for dinner?”
Grinning, he shakes his head once. “Nope.”
Sally must sense my resignation because she reaches up, squeezes my hand, and pulls me forward. Harlan’s fingers graze the middle of my back to guide me to the exit. I ignore the confusing shiver down my spine.
Toby hangs off Harlan’s left arm with every stride. Spencer kisses Layla on the cheek over and over, causing baby babbles while he ambles toward the door.
As the six of us leave the Broadmoor together, I shake my head and start talking to myself. “I am going to dinner with Spencer Dean, his wife and kids, and their good friend Harlan Holcombe.”
“Meredith,” Harlan calls behind me. “Referring to me by just my first name might help.”
“Of course, Harlan Holcombe. I will try that.”
Is it too late to go back to the corner in my dodgeball game?
4
“This place lookslike Chuck E. Cheese created a love child with Janis Joplin,” I say.
Somehow I’ve made it through the drive, getting seated, and ordering dinner without making a complete fool of myself. I can’t say the same about the server who delivered our food. Total teenage fangirl. However, now I take time to observe the ambiance of the restaurant.
“Right?” I ask the table. “This place has multiple personalities.”
Harlan’s deep laughter causes squishy sensations in my belly. I shift in my seat to shove the warmth away, simultaneously conjuring up things I can say to make him laugh again. The interior design isn’t the only thing in the room that can’t decide what it wants.
Our red faux-leather booth holds six people. When I scooted in first, I thought Toby would sit next to me and be the kid buffer to help my celebrity personality problem. Though untested, I am confident I can function like a normal human being around famous people’s children. However, Harlan zipped in first, which placed his body two inches from mine, with little Toby betraying me and sitting on the other side of him.
This could be a long night.
Sally leans over to attach a bib around Layla’s neck while Layla squirms in protest on her high chair. “The reviews claim food the parents will love, with a germ-infested arcade the kids won’t want to leave.”
“Everything on the menu is organic, free range, food of the hippies, topped off with captivating psychedelic decor.” Harlan shovels a bite of bread covered with bruschetta into his mouth. “Quintessential Colorado.”
The tie-dye napkins are an amusing touch. I couldn’t care less if the cheese came from a free-range cow that only eats dandelions at dusk. The food choice is genius in calming my frayed nerves because pizza is the great equalizer. All levels of income, class, and celebrity love the coma-inducing Italian pie.
“I want Wocky.” Toby spits bread onto the table while he points and talks.
Following the direction of his pudgy finger, I see a person wearing a disturbing animal costume. “What. Is. That?” I ask.
Layla lifts her little arms and tries to echo her big brother. “Was!”
The menus sit between the condiments and the wall, and Harlan stretches across me to grab one. This causes me to lean way back, squeeze my eyes closed, and say a prayer he doesn’t touch me. Does. Doesn’t.
Doesn’t.
Setting the laminated page in front of me, he points. A picture of a proud Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep greets me alongside a written explanation.
“Okay. I recognize Rocky is the Colorado state animal, he’s endangered, and he’s a magnificent creature. But that thing”—I hitch my thumb toward the disastrous mascot—“is like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man went through a car wash, drip-dried, and got some horns stuck on him.” Glancing down at the real picture, I note the atrocious costume at least got the massive curling horns correct.
A small roar comes from across the room, and we shift again to gawk.
Rocky has a wife.
Dressed like a sheep in Little Bo-Peep’s clothing, she sports the same giant horns tacked to her head.
With my mouth gaping, I can’t tear my eyes away from the scene. “This could be something out of a horror movie. Don’t they scare the kids?”
Sally smiles and shrugs as she shifts her attention to Layla, who is trying to launch herself at the dynamic sheep duo. “Layla and Toby, Rocky and Rockina will come over to our table when they make it to our side of the room. Let’s eat some dinner, please, while we wait.” She offers a carrot to a distracted Toby.
