The Dead and the Dark(53)

“I think you say that to all the girls. Or”—Ronda looked at Brandon and her expression sobered—“maybe not.”

“Good to see you,” Brandon said stiffly.

“I tell you what, I did not expect to see you in here.” Ronda laid menus on the table and pulled three sets of silverware from her apron. Her expression was hard to read, idling somewhere between curiosity and disappointment. “Still don’t understand why you three are in town, but I’m glad to see you’re all right. Anyway, let’s get some food on the table.” She turned to Alejo. “It’s been a bit, but I think I remember. Regular Moontide burger with no pickles or onions, extra cheddar?”

Alejo grinned. “You got it.”

“I’m just glad you’re not one of those California vegan types now.” Ronda took Brandon’s and Logan’s orders and stuck her notepad back in her apron. “Sit tight. I’ll be back with your food.”

Brandon looked around the diner with a distant smile. He looked like he actually fit in here. Logan had never seen him actually settle into a place. No matter where they were, he always looked like he’d been cut out and pasted in, like he always existed somewhere else. But at the Moontide, he looked comfortable. He leaned against the vinyl booth like he’d spent years in it. Maybe he had. Logan knew next to nothing about Brandon’s life here before the show. She’d gathered bits and pieces of Alejo’s, but Brandon’s was a blank.

It all felt crooked.

“Did you guys come here a lot before?” Logan asked.

Alejo looked at Brandon, who fixed him with a classic straight-lipped frown. “Uh, yeah. I’d say so. Not together, but I think we both came here a lot.”

Logan wrinkled her nose. “Weird answer.”

“We didn’t really know each other then,” Alejo said. “Me and your dad could’ve been sitting right next to each other but probably wouldn’t’ve said a word.”

“That’s not true,” Brandon said. “I knew who you were.”

“Okay, well, that’s because I was cool.”

“And I was not,” Brandon said. “I’m sure that’s a surprise.”

The jukebox, which Logan hadn’t noticed before, started playing John Denver, and Alejo’s face lit up. “Your dad used to be able to play this one on the piano,” he said. He put a hand on Brandon’s forearm. “We should get a piano at the LA house. I bet she didn’t even know you played.”

“I doubt I’d remember how.” Brandon grimaced at the jukebox, then softened and looked at Logan. “You wouldn’t wanna see me play now. It’d be embarrassing.”

Logan’s chest felt tight. She thought of the piano in the cabin. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Brandon’s spirit had materialized there, that she’d heard piano music in the woods, that he apparently used to play. But this wasn’t what she wanted to find out—she didn’t want more reasons why Brandon was at the center of all this. She bit back the twinge of hurt in her chest. “How did you guys meet? I don’t think I ever asked.”

“Oh, uh…” Brandon eyed Alejo. “You’re the better storyteller.”

“I don’t know,” Alejo mused, “you apparently knew about me way before I knew about you.”

The held each other’s gaze a moment longer in a silent standoff. Finally, Brandon cleared his throat. “We met here, actually. In the diner. I was eating with my parents and he was here with—”

“No, we met at the lumberyard, remember?”

Brandon grimaced. “No. It was here.”

Alejo’s brow furrowed, searching for the memory.

“You were on a date?” Brandon tried. “It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t a long conversation. I don’t even know why I remember it.”

“Are you sure you met me?” Alejo asked. “I didn’t meet you until I came back from Seattle. And I didn’t really go on dates. I was…”

Logan groaned. “You were with Tammy, right?”

Alejo flushed. “Gracia … that chismosa. I was a different guy back then.”

“I don’t think you were that different,” Brandon said. When Logan and Alejo fixed him with identical stares, he looked down. “When you came back, I was actually glad you were just how I remembered you.”

“Oh, because you knew me so well from our one conversation?” Alejo’s laugh was a pointed challenge.

Ronda came back from the kitchen and laid their burgers on the table, saving Brandon from having to elaborate. Before she could turn to leave, Alejo held up a hand. “Ronda, you have a great memory. Do you remember me and Brandon meeting here? For the first time?”

Ronda stared.

“I was in the booth by the door,” Brandon said.

“I’m sorry. I don’t remember.” Ronda straightened and gestured to the table. “Do y’all have enough napkins?”

Alejo looked to Brandon and frowned. “Uh, we’re good. Thanks.”

Logan looked down at her lap. She waited for Ronda to disappear back into the kitchen, then took a deep breath. “Can I ask you guys something?”

“When have you ever asked permission?” Alejo scoffed.