Suzie argued and cajoled and wasted time trying to persuade their friend to go with them. It was a relief to Manfred when Mamie remained adamant.
Then Lenore Whitefield became an obstacle. She was startled and dismayed to discover that “her” old people had planned an excursion. It was obvious she’d never imagined they might want to be anywhere else, and she was uncertain about whether she could allow it.
“Allow it?” Olivia stood with her hands on her hips. “Are they in jail? Do they have to bring notes from their parents?”
Lenore flushed. “Miss Charity, you’re being difficult on purpose. Of course not, but they’re in my care, and I’m responsible for their well-being.”
“Last I heard, I was an adult and responsible for myself,” Tommy said pugnaciously. “I’m no baby sucking on a tit.” Suzie nodded vigorously.
Lenore grew even redder. “No need for that kind of talk, Tommy. You’ll miss your nurse’s visit.”
“I ain’t dying today,” Tommy said. The force of his personality was too much for Lenore. She literally threw up her hands.
“All right, go on,” she said. “Please don’t try to do too much, and please take all your medication before you go.”
“We’ll have them back this evening,” Manfred said, trying to placate the woman. He had an uneasy feeling that if Lenore called Eva Culhane, they’d never leave the building, because from the little he’d seen of Culhane, she was formidable. Since his first conversation with Tommy, he’d been aware there was something wrong with the setup at the Midnight Hotel.
Instead of pleading with the old people, why didn’t Lenore call the families of the residents? Because they didn’t have families, and they’d been selected to live in Midnight because of that. They’d been picked because they’d be grateful. Shorty wouldn’t be there if he’d been coherent enough to remember he had a grandson.
Manfred had been so overwhelmed with his own problems that he hadn’t even tried to figure out why the hotel had reopened. As he ushered Tommy and Suzie out to the waiting cars, he realized he needed to spare some of his worry time for the situation at the Midnight Hotel. Barry could have told him that he and Olivia were thinking parallel thoughts.
Manfred wasn’t ready to be met with a firm refusal by Olivia when he suggested Barry ride with her.
“No,” she said. “He goes with you. He stays with you. I don’t like him in my head. I’ll take the first lap with Tommy and Suzie.”
Manfred couldn’t take any more upset that morning. “All right,” he said. “Fine. Call me when they need to stop. Hey, there’s a Cracker Barrel in a reasonable location for lunch. I checked the Internet last night.”
“And all old people love Cracker Barrel? That’s what you’re saying, sonny?” Tommy protested from Olivia’s front passenger seat.
“I do,” Suzie said as she buckled her seat belt in the back. “Let’s stop there!”
“They do have good breakfast, and you can get it all day,” Tommy said thoughtfully.
“Apparently these two old people do love Cracker Barrel,” Olivia said. Manfred could tell she was holding some irritation in with an effort, and that was another worry.
“So why’s she so mad at you?” Manfred asked Barry, once they were actually on their way.
“She didn’t want me to be able to read her mind. But I can’t block out specific people. No one wants me to be able to dip in their head,” Barry said reasonably. “But they want to know what everyone else is thinking.”
“Were you born able to read minds?”
“Yeah. It’s not an easy thing to grow up that way. To put it mildly. Especially when you’re little and you repeat what you hear without understanding there are going to be consequences.”
Manfred tried to imagine that, but he found himself so dismayed by the prospect that he could only say, “That’s awful.”
“Tell me about it.” Barry laughed, but not like it was really funny.
“Like I told you,” Manfred said, concentrating on the road ahead, where a pickup had just pulled slowly into his lane. “I’ve met another telepath. But I never thought about what being a mind-reading kid would be like. Damn.”
“You know Sookie, you said.”
Manfred glanced at Barry before turning his attention back to the pickup. Its right blinker kept going, monotonously and without conviction. Of course, this driver did not want to turn. He’d just left the blinker on. “Asshole,” muttered Manfred, and then returned to the conversation. “Yeah, I met her in Bon Temps,” he said. “You from there, too?