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Two of a Kind

Page 26

   


“She’s made some changes.” Despite his apprehension at being with his son, he grinned. “There was some pushback last time, but she won everyone over to her way of thinking. Now they’re all excited about the new setup. Want a lemonade?”
“Sure.”
They walked over to the booth and Gideon ordered for them. People moved all around them. Families, couples. There were strollers and toddlers and teenagers. He’d never paid much attention to the ages of all the children before. Not that he spent a lot of time at the festivals. He preferred to stay in the background. Like narrating the Dance of the Winter King last Christmas. That was more his speed. But he’d always liked kids from a distance at least. Thought they deserved a fair shot—a chance to be special. But that was an idea born of generic concepts. He’d never thought he would be dealing with his own kid.
“How long have you lived in town?” Carter asked.
“About a year.”
“Before that?”
“Here and there.”
Carter sucked on his straw. “You don’t want to talk about it.”
No, he didn’t. But what he wanted didn’t seem to be an option. “When I got out of the military, I had some healing to do. That took a while.”
He braced himself for more questions, but Carter only shrugged. “Makes sense. What about Felicia? How long has she lived in Fool’s Gold?”
“A few months. She came in with CDS. Not to work for them. More to get the business up and running. But she was looking for a different kind of job, and when she was offered a chance to run the festivals, she was excited.”
Which was almost true. She’d also been nervous about not getting it right. She had a strong sense of duty and wanted to fit in. A woman with principles.
“And before that?” Carter asked.
“She was in the military, too. She handled logistics for a Special Forces unit. She got them and their supplies where they needed to go and made sure they had a way out.”
“They let girls do that?”
Gideon chuckled. “I suggest you avoid asking Felicia that question directly.”
Carter grinned. “You’re right. She’s really smart, but nice, you know? She cares about people.”
“She does have a big heart.” And an amazing body, which wasn’t anything he was going to discuss with a thirteen-year-old boy.
“She always has an answer,” Carter said, then drank more of his lemonade. “I think my mom would have liked her.”
“I’m sure she would have.”
“Do you know Consuelo Ly?”
“I’ve met her a couple of times. Why?”
“She’s teaching the class I go to at CDS.” The teen grinned. “She’s hot.”
Crap, Gideon thought. Was he going to have to deal with hormones in addition to everything else?
“She’s a little old for you, isn’t she?”
Carter sighed. “Yeah. I asked her to wait, but I don’t think she will. I wonder if she has a boyfriend.”
“You know she could totally kick your ass, right?”
Carter grinned. “I know. She’s already flipped me on my back. It hurt, but it was cool, too. You know? When I grow up, I’m going to get every girl I want, no matter what.”
“It’s not always that simple.”
“Because they don’t always like you back?”
“Sure. Or the timing’s wrong. Or she’s with someone else.”
The teen’s grin turned cocky. “If a girl doesn’t want me, then there’s something wrong with her.”
“You’ve got attitude,” he said, chuckling. “I’ll give you that.” He looked around at the various booths. “You want any books?”
“No. I don’t read books. Not paper ones. I read them on my laptop. Felicia bought me a couple the other night.”
Great. So if books weren’t interesting, what was he supposed to do with Carter? He glanced at his watch and held in a groan. It was barely noon. How was he supposed to fill a whole day?
“Any suggestions for the afternoon?” he asked.
Carter finished his lemonade, then nodded. “Sure. We can have lunch, then you can show me around the radio station.”
“You’re interested in the station?”
“I’ve never seen one before. I want to see where you work.”
Something he’d never considered. “Okay,” Gideon said. “Let’s go get lunch.”
* * *
AFTER THEY’D GRABBED pizza from a vendor, Gideon drove them out of town and to the radio station. As it was the weekend, the regular office staff were off.
“Not many people are in today,” he said. “On weekends we run the station with a computer.”
Carter followed him to the door. Gideon unlocked it and they stepped inside.
“You mean there’s no people?”
“There’s one guy to make sure the computer works. I usually hire college kids who can use the time to study. Watching a computer do its thing isn’t that interesting.”
Gideon led the way back to the engineering booth. A blond-haired guy looked up and grinned. He stood as Gideon and Carter stepped into the room.
“Jess, this is, ah, my son, Carter. Carter, this is Jess.”
“Nice to meet you,” Carter said politely.
“You, too.”
“I’m showing him the station.”
Jess nodded. “Not much to see these days. Most radio stations are run by a computer. No people required. Except for me. I make sure it all doesn’t break down.” His grin returned. “Like I’d know how to fix it. I’m really here to call in the tech experts if something goes wrong.”
Carter glanced at all the equipment. “So the computer says what songs play?”
“More than songs. Commercials, too. Weather, even local news can be synced in. I recorded a bunch of announcements about the festival yesterday, and they’ll play all day.” He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “New York Times bestselling author Liz Sutton will be signing at three today, outside Morgan’s Books.” Jess shrugged. “Stuff like that.”
Carter glanced at Gideon. “Do you ever do recordings?”
Jess chuckled. “He’s the man. Nearly every local customer wants Gideon to do the commercials. Chicks dig his voice.” He paused. “I probably shouldn’t have said that, boss.”
Gideon waved away the comment. “It doesn’t matter because you’re exaggerating. Half the people at the station work on commercials.”
“But I thought everything was on the computer,” Carter said.
“We buy blocks of on-air material,” Gideon told him. He walked over to the computer and showed him the information on the monitor. It showed where they were in the program, what was playing now and what was in queue.
“We can insert our own commercials into what we’ve bought. We can do local news, too. The whole system uses the atomic clock so the timing is perfect. No one can tell what’s done by us and what’s bought.”
Carter frowned. “Is that good or not?”
“Some days I’m not sure. There’s no way for a small station like this one to survive with live broadcasts. They’re expensive to produce.”
“At night, is it you or a recording?”
Jess grinned. “It’s Gideon. The boss does his own shows the old-fashioned way. You should show Carter what’s what.”
“Sure.”
They walked to the booth in the back, the one that no one else used because the equipment was so old. Carter slipped inside and sat at Gideon’s chair. “Look at all this,” he said.
The this was a stack of CDs. Some were compilations, others complete albums. Everything was numbered and neatly organized.
Gideon pulled a second chair. “I have a database I use to keep track of everything. I plan some playlists in advance, but not always. Sometimes it’s a mood thing. People call in with requests.”
Carter picked up the headphones, then put them down. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing.
Gideon grinned. “A record player.”
“You have records?”
“You don’t have to sound so shocked. Yes, I have records.” He pointed to the wall behind them.
Carter spun in the chair. “Whoa. Look at them.”
Gideon followed his gaze. The record collection filled a specially built case that nearly covered the wall. He would guess he had close to a thousand records, some collected when he was a kid, some bought in the past couple of years at estate sales and auctions.
“I’ve never seen a record before,” Carter said as he stood and crossed to the wall. “On TV and stuff, but never in person.” He glanced back. “Can I touch one?”
“Sure. But hold it by the edges or the middle.”
“Like a DVD.” Carter pulled out a sleeve, then carefully slid out the record. He held it reverently. “So, these are like, what? A hundred years old?”
Gideon sighed. “It’s from the ’60s.” At Carter’s blank look, he added, “The 1960s. Barely fifty years ago.”
“Fifty is pretty close to a hundred.”
“I’m ignoring that.” He held out his hand. “I’ll play it for you.”
Carter looked at the title. “The Beatles Second Album? That’s the name?”
“It’s actually the third album they released in this country. They’re a British band.”
Carter handed him the record. He put it on the turntable and carefully placed the needle so they would hear his favorite track, the classic “She Loves You.”
“Why do you like this music?” he asked as the first strains began to play.
“I can understand the words,” Gideon said with a laugh. “I like the message of songs from the ’60s. Life was simpler.”
Carter shook his head. “Yeah, yeah, yeah? That’s a message?”
“It was at the time.”
Carter settled back in his chair and listened. When the song was over, he asked to have it played again.
Gideon studied the teenager who was his son. For the first time since Carter’s arrival, he saw him as a person rather than a problem. A kid with hopes and dreams.
The song ended and he turned off the turntable. “You’re going to have to tell me what I’m supposed to be doing,” he said, putting the record back in the sleeve.
Carter’s dark eyes flashed with emotion. “You mean about me?”
Gideon nodded. “I’m not exactly father material.”
“You’re doing good,” the teen said quickly. “I’m not that much trouble.”
“Nice to know. Should we talk about anything? You making friends okay? Anything with girls?”
Carter grinned. “I know about sex, if that’s what you’re asking. Besides, it’s a little early for that. Get back to me in a couple of years.”
Longer would be better, Gideon thought. “If you need anything or want to ask me any questions, you can. I won’t lie to you.”
“I’m glad. I’ll try not to lie, either.”
“I notice you didn’t promise.”
Carter smiled. “What can I say? I’m a kid. Things happen.” His brows went up. “You know, we could talk about me driving.”
“You’re thirteen.”
“It’s never too early to start.”
“It’s highly illegal.”
“Okay, but just so you know, you’ll need to get me a car when I turn sixteen. So you might want to start saving now.”
With any luck, he would start getting the hang of this “dad” thing before then, Gideon thought.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
FELICIA SAT AT the long table, feeling more than a little out of place. She was used to meetings that involved moving a six-man team into enemy territory with two tons of equipment and then extricating them with less than three hours’ notice. That she could handle. A city council meeting was more than a little frightening.
She recognized the mayor, of course, and Charity Golden, the city planner. There were a few other people she’d seen at various functions. She was pretty sure the two old ladies sitting in chairs by the wall were Eddie Carberry and her friend Gladys.
“We have a revised agenda,” Mayor Marsha said, standing with several sheets of paper in her hand. Slowly she put on her glasses and studied the sheet on top. When she raised her head, there was a slight tightness in her jaw. Almost as if she were grinding her teeth.
“Someone made changes,” she said sternly. “Was that you, Gladys?”
One of the old ladies grinned. “Yup. We have a few things to discuss.”
“We, in fact, do not,” the mayor told her.
Eddie stood. She had on a bright fuchsia tracksuit that flattered her coloring. With her short, white hair, she looked like a cheerful, rowdy grandmother. Which she probably was, Felicia thought.
“The calendar last year made a lot of money,” Eddie said. “We need to do something like that again. We could become known for our sexy calendar.”
Felicia leaned toward Charity. “There was a sexy calendar?”
“Clay Stryker used to be a butt model. He brought in several model friends to pose for a calendar to raise money for the fire department. It was a big hit.”
“This is a town,” Mayor Marsha said slowly. “Not a club or a bar. We will not be known for anything but a civically focused calendar.”