The Problem With Crazy by Lauren McKellar

Author:Lauren McKellar [Mckellar, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 0992452414
Amazon: B00IFH4NI0
Published: 2014-02-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

I CALLED and made my neurologist appointment a few days later, needing to make progress with the testing process. My voice scratched when I booked, as if I was on a bad line. It didn’t help that I’d seen an article about Dave dating Lee Collins’s girlfriend (now, presumably ex-girlfriend) in the newspaper and I hadn’t heard from Johnny or Lachlan regarding new shifts at the café.

Not that it mattered, of course. Lachlan and I were just mates, and mates didn’t stress when they hadn’t heard from each other in two days. Or two days, twelve hours and eighteen minutes.

Did they?

Maybe that’s why I found myself pulling into the lot at Sideways later that week, Dad by my side. I opened the door to the café and quickly ushered him to a table in the corner, trying to create as little fuss as possible. The place was busy today, the three pm caffeine-addicted crowd settling in. I prayed Dad wouldn’t do anything to embarrass me.

I walked up to the counter to order and was surprised to be met by Johnny instead of Lachlan.

“Hey, where’s Lachlan?”

Cringe. Could I be more obvious?

“He took the afternoon off.” Johnny nodded at the crowded room before him. “Of all the days though, right?”

“Right,” I agreed. “Oh, just a milkshake and a flat white, please.”

“No problem-o,” he said, quickly pressing a few buttons on the machine to no doubt keep the orders coming. “Put that money away. We can do staff drinks.” He gave me a wink, and I smiled back.

“So, speaking of, I never heard from you about another shift, and I …”

“Oh! Of course, yeah, right, I forgot to call you.” Johnny slapped his forehead. “Sorry, mate, I’ve been flat-out here. But could you come in? Like, next Tuesday?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s fine. What time?” I felt like an idiot. He’d just been busy, and now he probably thought I’d hunted him down in his place of work to find out more. What was wrong with me?

Oh, yeah, that’s right. Potential Huntington’s disease.

“Maybe from ten till close? You can shift with me, Lach is off again,” he said. “Now go sit down, I’ll bring these out when they’re ready.”

I smiled my thanks and headed back to the table where I pulled out the chair across from Dad. Just the two of us. Having a drink.

Leslie would be proud.

“So, what’d you get up to yesterday?” I asked brightly. Dad didn’t so much as make eye contact with me. He kept his gaze glued to the table in front of him where he was playing with a saltshaker, tipping it from side to side in his hand. He’d tilt left, and all the tiny white crystals would slide down the glass tube. He’d tilt right and they’d fly that way, stopping when he covered the holes on top with his palm to prevent spillage. Then he’d lose control, drop the shaker, or his arm would jerk out again.

Process and repeat.

“Dad?” I spoke a little louder in case he couldn’t hear me over the salt.

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