he wanted to run from the building screaming and seek out a scientist who had figured out how to turn back time.
Clarence fidgeted in his seat. “Is he going to say anything?”
“You have to admit, it’s a lot to take in.”
He snorted again. “Tell me about it.”
I rubbed Colt’s hand. “Colt, do you want to say or ask anything?”
He shook his head.
Clarence eyed me suspiciously for a long, uncomfortable minute. “My mom hated you, you know.”
“What?” Not only was I stunned, I was hurt. I work very hard to make sure people like me. “Why?”
He slid a nod in Colt’s direction. “Casanova here. He loved her, then left her because he was only ever truly in love with you. Like you held some sort of spell over him. Even when they dated, he’d talk about you till it made her sick. Look—he still follows you everywhere.” Then Clarence buried his head in his arms and wept. It broke my heart.
I scooted my chair closer and rubbed Clarence’s back. Poor Clarence—lost his mother, and grandfather. Never had a father. I whispered at Colt. “Look what you’ve done. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“What did I do?”
“Evidently a lot. And not enough.” I sighed. “Tell me you didn’t know anything about this.”
He jumped from his chair and started to pace. “I didn’t know! I swear.” He stopped pacing for a minute to watch Clarence, who had lifted his head and started to wipe his eyes. Colt’s shoulders dropped as if in defeat. “She never told me.”
“He’s telling the truth,” said Clarence. “He didn’t know.”
Colt went back to pacing, stopping every few steps to observe his newly discovered progeny. Besides the sound of his shoes on the carpet, the room was awkwardly quiet. I thought about the first time I had seen Clarence by the reflecting pool that hot day and how he reacted when he saw the man he knew to be his father.
Then it hit me. “So that day, when we met by the memorial—you didn’t have any information about Frankie?”
His face brightened slightly and he lowered his voice. “Actually, I kinda did.” He rose from his chair, tip-toed to the door, cracked it open enough to peek out, then closed it quietly before returning to the table. He pushed stringy strands of blond hair behind his ears and kept his voice low. “I have a way of being in the right place at the right time.”
Colt rolled his eyes.
“Can you be more specific?” I asked.
“I’ve heard things.”
I could tell Colt was getting impatient. “Do you know the definition of ‘specific’?”
Shooting Colt a nasty glare, I urged his eccentric son on. “What have you heard?”
“Jorge and that sleazy reviewer from Channel 3.”
“Randolph Rutter?”
Clarence snorted again and I realized it was a quirk that could get old pretty quickly. “Can you believe that name? What were his parents thinking?”
“You heard them how? Talking?”
He nodded. “In the small screening room. They thought they were alone.”
He had Colt’s full attention now. He leaned forward. “What were they talking about?”
“It was the day of the preview screening. I was on my lunch break. Randolph asked Jorge if ‘everything was set.’” Clarence gestured finger quotes in the air. “Jorge said ‘he fell for it, hook line and sinker.’”
“Did they ever mention a name? Do you know who ‘he’ was?” I asked.
Clarence shook his head.
Colt’s eye narrowed. “How did you hear this without them seeing you?”
Clarence didn’t hesitate. “Jorge is a clean freak and a dictator. He comes across all nice and Mr. Amazing to guests, but around here, he’s more like Hitler. No one is allowed to eat anywhere in the building except for the tiny lunchroom, but I like to sneak food into the screening rooms. Lots of days, Jorge goes out for business lunches—celebs, politicians, wealthy donors. When he does, I put on a movie and eat lunch.”
“But he didn’t go out to lunch that day and you ate in the screening room anyway?”
“No, that’s the point. He left for lunch, alright.” Clarence raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything else.
Colt blew out a frustrated sigh and threw his hands in the air.
This story felt like it was going no where fast, but I tried to remain calm since Colt seemed to be on the edge of loosing it. “So, do want to elaborate?”
A smile tugged at the corner of Clarence’s mouth. “Ask me who with.”
Colt and I exchanged expressions of annoyance.
“Who with, Clarence?” I asked. “Who with?”
“Kurt Baugh.”
We all took a moment to