Lost Game Notes (Novel)

Chapter 16: Caramel Machiatto

 The saying, "silence speaks louder than words" came to play as Lawrence guided the car out of the down the road.

Alex thought of popping in his earphones and listening to music, but the battery of his phone was pretty much dead. Besides, he wanted Lawrence to feel the brunt of his mindless actions the day before.

Alex leaned his head against the cold window and waited, staring at familiar scenery pass by. It had been a long time since he had been driven home.

Finally, Lawrence spoke up. "Alexander, I, uh... How should I start?" His voice sounded forced, awkward, and embarrassing for both of them.

Alex turned to stare at Lawrence to make him more uncomfortable.

Lawrence cleared his throat, pretending to focus on the road ahead of him. "I suppose I should—should apologize for last night." His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles washed of color. "I didn't...wasn't very... Every—every kid has their rebellious stage, I guess." He laughed, but it was so mirthless Alex cringed. Lawrence hastened to finish. "So I—I thought you might like to get something at that diner you like, as an apology."

Lawrence cast Alex a sidelong look, and Alex wondered if he truly saw the faintest trace of remorse. Or was it just him, imagining it there? In that case, Lawrence deserved some credit for sincerity. "So what's the deal? Have you been talking to Kamila?"

Lawrence began to force out a laugh, then abandoned it. "No, no. Nothing like that." A pause. "You forget I'm still your father."

"A father who beats up his own son," Alex huffed before he could check himself.

Lawrence drew in a deep breath, amber eyes still directed ahead of him. "I'm sorry, truly sorry. I acted without thinking. I was just shocked."

Alex turned his eyes to the window and tried—really tried, to believe that Lawrence meant what he said. He fumbled with what little amount of trust he had left, but couldn't seem to find enough. Alex tried to remember moments he trusted his father with anything, but he drew blank.

He'll probably revert to being his cold self after this little act, Alex silently decided. I can't trust him. He thinks I can forgive him that easily? Ha! Not after all these years. Why didn't he apologize all those other times? Why now?

They rode the rest of the way in silence, and Alex finally drew to a conclusion once they pulled into the Silver Spoon Diner parking lot.

You want something, need something from me. And this, you think, is your way of getting it, whatever "it" is. I'll keep my guard up, Lawrence. I'm not giving in to that fatherly love you never showed me.

Alex put his thoughts on hold and gazed out of the window in awe. The diner was really taking on a new shape—and growing out of its "diner" britches. This was more of a restaurant now. He had Mrs. Connell to credit for that.

The parking lot had been freshly paved with a new coat of asphalt, doors and windows framed with a border of white paint. Inviting baby-blue flowers hung out of flower boxes beneath the sills. A bigger crowd than usual hummed about.

Alex slid out of the car without waiting for Lawrence and headed for the doors. He secretly hoped Sky would be on duty today. Maybe he would have a chance to talk to him. But even as he looked around he saw no sign of white hair.

A hand took his arm. "It's too stuffed inside. Let's sit outside. I'll call for a waiter."

Alex tugged his arm away from Lawrence's touch but silently followed him to an empty table, dropping down unto the wooden slats of a bench. He reached out to tousle the petals of the blushing, pink flowers hanging over the rim of a vase.

Lawrence sat down on the opposite bench and tented his fingers, gazing at Alex over them.

A tall waitress sauntered up to them, digging her hands into a large pocket in her apron to reveal a notepad and pen. "What can I get you?" She asked in a bubble voice, eyes scanning the two at the table. Her eyes lit up when she saw Lawrence.

"I'll have a...caramel macchiato, and a slice of double cream raspberry pie, please."

Alex went with the choice, although he would have preferred vanilla ice-cream and a chocolate waffle. He wasn't going to speak if he didn't have to.

The waitress left to get the order, and Lawrence leaned forward, crossing his arms over the top of the table. "How do you find Kamila?"

Alex practiced a blank expression. He knew any hesitation would be caught. "You're asking me that question?"

Lawrence lowered his chin in a nod.

Alex sighed. "She's fine, I guess." Then he added with a touch of sarcasm, "Not the sort of person I thought you would be interested in."

He still felt like it was much to early and Lawrence was insulting Olivia in that way.

Lawrence wasn't fazed. In fact, he looked vaguely annoyed at the jab. "I hope you're not still talking about the time I called that black man a nigger."

Alex could hear the distaste in his voice. He raised his eyebrows. "You practically scared him out of the neighborhood."

Lawrence didn't answer. Instead, he directed the conversation elsewhere. "How have you been at school?"

The waitress came up to the table, and Alex waited for her to set the steaming, laden tray down and leave before he shot back, "How have you been at work?"

Lawrence took a slow sip of the frothy drink and involuntarily winced. He set the glass down and picked up his spoon. "As always. Nothing new."

No undercover spies to steal sensitive information? Alex wanted to ask. But of course didn't. He was'nt in for another episode and questions and probing. Instead, he tasted his glass of caramel macchiato, Sky's favorite. He found to his surprise he actually liked it.

This was a good time to ask Lawrence some questions, though. The sooner he could to get Kamila's commission of his back the better.

Perhaps he should have chose something softer to start with, but that thought didn't cross his mind. "Tell me about that—that trail with Conan."

Lawrence's head jerked up, eyes searching. "Conan Simmons? How did—where did you hear about him?"

Alex's heart skipped a beat as he scrambled to think of something suitable. "I saw it in the newspapers a long time back. Just thought I'd ask about it."

Lawrence relaxed his grip on the spoon he held, but gaze only grew colder. He spoke in a low voice. "I suggest you keep your nose out of my business. It will be better for both of us."

"Since when is your word command?" Alex miffed. Through the corner of his eye, he saw a bob of white hair moving towards the diner.

Lawrence leaned to the side and spat out the sip he had taken of his drink, glaring at Alex as he straightened and wiped his mouth. "It has always been. Now do yourself a favor and listen."

Alex leaped to his feet and grabbed Lawrence's wallet, sneering, "I'm sick of you! I'm sick of you controlling me." He spun around and stormed into the diner, ignoring Lawrence's attempt at calling him back.

Alex dreaded what the consequences of his quick tongue were going to be, but he felt an odd sense of satisfaction for saying what he truly felt.

Alex stopped at the counter and spotted Sky moving behind stacks of freshly baked pastries.
He flipped open the wallet whiles waiting to catch Sky's attention, and rifled through several ten and five dollar notes, old receipts, perfume wads and neatly folded schedules. He tugged out a twenty dollar note and, as it was, something slightly heavier fell out. Alex set the bill on the counter and stooped to pick it off the floor.

The photo portrayed two laughing, young boys perched on a fence, arms linked. One was leaning into the camera, tousled russet hair falling into his amber colored eyes, a grin showcasing perfect rows of teeth and a sparkle in his amber eyes. The other was blonde and blue eyed, and looked far more subdued, as though he was trying to pull his friend back before he fell right off the fence.

Alex's eyes traveled back to the first face. Lawrence looked almost unrecognizable as a young boy. All that boisterousness and young energy had been zapped away and replaced with one, emotionless grouch. For which exact reason, Alex hadn't figured out—yet.

Just as his eyes registered the tiny number six scrawled in neat, crooked handwriting at the top corner, a hand clapped down on his shoulder and Alex jumped, clapping the wallet shut.

Lawrence snatched it right out of his hands and demanded, "Did you take anything?"

Alex sloped his shoulder away from Lawrence's hand and shot back, "I wouldn't want to take your dirty money. I'd like to give it all away."

Heads turned in their direction as Lawrence steered Alex towards the doors, hissing, "My father didn't teach me to waste money. You see why I can't trust you with these things."

And there went the nice guy Lawrence.

Understanding dawned, along with a though. That's it! Lawrence is suspicious of me. He did all this just to gain some answers he's been asking himself, I bet. Did he hear something somewhere?

The question, like all the others Alex hoarded,, in his mind remained to be answered. It was only when Alex slid into the passenger seat of the car that he realized he hadn't even had a chance to speak to Sky.