His hair was still wet and falling in his eyes even as they pulled into Ed''s Eatery. Jester piloted his beat-up truck past another beat up truck - this one mustard yellow, and with the dramatic wheel wells of a classic automobile - and a small silver camper. The words SHE''S ALL YOURS IF YOU WANT HER flashed in neon blue above the camper door. Tate had no idea what the fuck it meant and was still unsettled by his psychic visions. He shook his head and shut his eyes. When he opened them, the vision was gone. Beyond the truck and camper, the gravel lot was empty. ''Busy place,'' Tate said.
Jester pulled the key from the ignition and sighed. ''It''s a walking town. Not a lot of cars on the road barring going out of town or some of the older folks or the sheriff. So the place is most likely hopping but is full of people who hoofed it.'' ''Lots of cow shifters here?'' ''Tate, it''s a figure of speech, for Christ''s sake.'' ''Right. Sorry.'' He was all too aware he had a chip on his shoulder.
The shrink he''d seen for a very brief period called it survivor''s guilt. It wasn''t uncommon for someone who''d survived a trauma while everyone they loved - in this case his parents - died. And blah, blah, blah, feelings. Therapy hadn''t been his thing and he tried to regulate the severity of said chip on his shoulder. It was the best he could do. The back door to Ed''s Eatery was small, green and had seen better days. It stood open now, the screen door the only barrier to the outside. Heat wafted out of the small room and a short man dressed in a classic bowling shirt, billowy chequered chef pants, kitchen clogs and a stained white apron kept yelling "order up!" and banging a bell with his spatula.
''I take it that''s Ed?'' At hearing his name, the proprietor turned and smiled. ''Jester, you old so-and-so! How''s the wine business?'' The men gave each other a back-clapping hug and then Jester cleared his throat. ''This is my nephew, Tate. You knew -'' ''Knew he was coming. Yep, yep.'' He stuck out a small but hairy hand and Tate took it. They shook. ''What can I do for ya?'' ''He needs a job,'' Jester told him.
''Before Sam Slaughter locks him up and throws away the key.'' Ed laughed a big, booming laugh. ''Hard to get on the sheriff''s bad side. What''d you do, boy?'' ''Entered town with a bang?'' Tate grunted. ''More like a fight,'' Jester said. ''But he''s done with that. He needs work and he''s all about food. Any openings?'' ''All about food, eh?'' Ed said.
''You sure? This town likes its food. In spades.'' Tate nodded. ''Had my own small food truck back in the city.'' Ed looked surprised. ''Wow.'' He realised he had an order up, flipped the burger on a bun, snagged some fries for the plate, a pickle, and shoved the plate at Tate. ''We''re super short-handed today.
Think you can deliver this plate without punching anyone?'' ''Where''s it go?'' ''Very end of the eat counter to the left. The customer by the kitchen entrance.'' Ed pointed to the kitchen door and Tate made sure to go out the outdoor and not out the indoor and risk a collision. When he turned to his left he growled under his breath. ''Excellent.'' It was the guy from the woods. Cheat what''s-his-name. Tate forced his feet to move and he finally found himself standing before the guy.
He set the plate down and said with as much control as he could manage, ''Your order.'' ''Thanks.'' Pale grey eyes on him. ''I wanted to .'' Tate stood there, tongue rooted firmly to the roof of his mouth. He couldn''t seem to say it and yet he couldn''t seem to take his eyes off the other man. The clatter-clink and shuffle of the diner around him seemed a million miles away. ''Wanted to?'' Cheat picked up his burger, arranged it just so, and took a bite.
''Say .'' Jesus. It was like spitting out razor blades. ''Sorry. For earlier. I .don''t know what got into me.'' ''It''s OK,'' Cheat said, perusing his fries, finally selecting one and breaking it in half to eat.
''I often inspire erections in strangers.'' Heat - swift and mortifying - flooded Tate''s cheeks. ''That erection wasn''t for you,'' he snarled, but he did it softly. ''It was just . shifting. I had no idea -'' Cheat raised a pristine eyebrow, gave Tate that maddening half smile. ''Yeah, whatever. You keep telling yourself that.
'' He chuckled. Tate took a step forward, fingers itching to curl into a fist. Body taut and aching to throw a punch. Then: ''Tate!'' Jester''s voice from the kitchen. Then he was there in the doorway. ''Coming,'' he said, too soft to be heard, really. He turned - made himself turn - and walked away. From behind him, he heard Cheat MacDougal say, ''Welcome to Divination Falls, you animal.