Page 109 of Sweet T

“Yeah,” Titus agreed. “I guess our quiet reprieve is over for now. What are you boys in for today?”

Evan combed fingers through his hair. “Tucker’s taking me to the Black Sheep early. I told Sebastian I’d help him with getting everything cleaned up.”

“I’m going in early too. We’re hosting the cast tonight after the show. It’s gonna be a late night.”

“Great. We’ll be there too,” said Titus.

“Really? You never come to the tavern.”

“And it’s about time he did,” Pedro added.

“Shelly and Ben will be at the show, too,” Tucker said. “Maybe you can sit with them. Barb too.”

Titus’s eyes lit. “Good idea. I could speak to Ben about the marketing position.”

“Hold up,” Evan said. “I’ve been thinking. Can you maybe wait a little longer on that?”

Titus’s eyes went to Evan. “Are you having second thoughts, son?”

Tucker intervened. “No, he’s not. Evan’s going to Atlanta. He belongs on the stage, Daddy. You’ll see.”

Titus heard his son, but his eyes never left Evan’s. “No hurry,” he said. “There’s plenty of time. I won’t say anything, Evan. Don’t you worry about it.”

Twenty-Three

Tucker’s Tavern was hopping that Friday night—Tucker, Chuck, and Brody running the show. Tucker spent much of the evening playing Ben’s part in the kitchen. At one point, though, while running onion rings out to a customer, he noticed that every single table was taken, and most of the bar. He also saw faces that weren’t regulars. Mary Alice from Buddy Jordan Florist, for example. Tucker had never seen her there, and yet she snagged him as he passed her table on his way back to the kitchen.

“Hon, I got those flowers sent to the Black Sheep right before we closed,” she said. “Hank texted me they were delivered well before the curtain went up.”

“Thank you so much,” Tucker said, eyes darting nervously to see if everyone was taken care of.

“No, thank YOU! Between you and your Daddy, I have more than made the month of July. We’ll be working all day tomorrow on the arrangements for the wedding. But tonight, I’m celebrating with the crew.” She gestured to the three women sitting with her and held up her empty glass. “Mai Tais all around.”

Tucker grinned. “Coming right up.”

Brody was behind the bar. “I need another round of Mai Tais for Table 14. How the fuck did you figure out how to make one of those?”

Brody grinned, removing a small red book from his back pocket. “Mr. Boston’s. Thought it might come in handy.”

“I’ll say. Chuck has no idea just how good he has it.”

“Yeah, he does. I tell him every day. Here.” Brody handed him tickets. “More food orders.”

“Tell me what?” Chuck asked, returning from the dartboards. “I need two Buds and a Michelob.”

“Tell you how hot you look in them tight jeans,” Brody said, winking.

Tucker laughed, heading back to the kitchen. The orders Brody had given him were burger and fry combos, and he already had extra ones on the grill. Yes, sir, things were going just fine.

* * *

A little after ten o’clock, when he knew from the previous night that the play would be in its second half, they stopped taking food orders. Tucker cleaned the kitchen, and was now wiping down tables–half of which were empty. Sam, Dex, Keith “Beanpole” Harper, Isaac Wade, Beth Webb, and Emily Kicklighter had a makeshift dart tournament rolling with a couple of newbies he didn’t recognize.

“Don’t even think about it,” Chuck said.

“I was just reading the boards. I’m not gonna abandon you, especially not after all the help you two have been this week.”

“Just making sure. Can’t say that I blame you for thinking about it. I’d like to throw a few games myself. Maybe we can after the party gets going.”