“I’m going home.”
“I thought you were going to stay over tonight?” Logan asked him.
John looked up from his plate.
“I know. I just want some time to be alone before I’m back here in the morning.”
Logan could tell his old friend was preoccupied. John wasn’t someone to leave pasta untouched, and his plate was still full. That meant one of two things: John is ill, or John is too busy thinking to eat.
“What’s chapping your ass?”
“Logan, after all the strange shit today, that seems like a really silly thing to ask.”
“Yeah, but Donna went home hours ago. I thought that you’d… I don’t know… Mellow out?”
John leaned back and ran his fingers through his hair—still summer-short—and blew through his tightly closed lips. The resulting sound was a combination of derisive snort, and fart. On any other occasion, the noise would have made Logan giggle.
“I’m in love with a supernatural creature. Donna has a bug up her ass about it. We’ve got a gig at the White House in three days.” He pointed at the television on the corner of the kitchen counter. “The President is either freaking out, or terrorists are using imposters now. Fuck! I don’t even know how I feel about all the shit from the past two days!”
“As long as you’ll be okay. That’s my only concern.”
“That’s nice of you Logan, and I appreciate your concern. This is just a load of shit to process at one time.”
“Why don’t you take tomorrow off then? Go down to that Korean bath spa in Chantilly, or something. Just relax.”
The question got Logan a dirty look for his trouble.
“How are we supposed to get ready for Wednesday, then?”
“John, we’ve got most of what we need already. We just need to make parfaits, cupcakes, and buy bread on Tuesday. Okay, maybe we should overdo it a little on bacon, too… but that’s not a huge thing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m going to blog a little tonight to let people know we won’t be around until Friday. I’ll make the mascarpone tomorrow, and get the cheese supplies sorted out. Donna will be here, and I’ll get her to do the veggie prep, and run down to Yancy Pants for the bread.” He paused, and gave it a little thought. “Actually, I’ll just call Amanda and see if she’ll deliver it.”
“Amanda might be a little pissed off about that.”
“Considering how much we buy from them, I think she can do us a favor this time.” Logan bit his thumb. Plans were forming in his head. “I also need to get more of her business cards. There’s no way I’m not going to have them out on the counter on Wednesday.”
“It just occurred to me… what are you going to tell our ‘fans’ about why we won’t be around on Monday or Wednesday?”
“Easy. The truck’s refrigeration system needs to be recharged.”
“Elegant solution, Mr. Manleigh.” John smiled. “An elegant solution, indeed.”
Logan bowed, and replied in a bad British accent.
“Certainly, sir. Our pleasure to serve, I say. Ho ho ho.”