A Barlow Lens by Elizabeth Noble Read Free Book Online Page B

Ohio—1927
    Â 
    T OM OPENED the door to the diner and quickly went through, pulling it closed behind him and trying not to let the torrential rain inside. He shook off the water and shrugged out of his overcoat and his hat, hanging both on the rack near the door. After taking only two steps toward the counter, he changed direction and slipped into a booth. He picked up a menu and pretended to read while he watched Philip and Emma at the counter.
    â€œThere ain’t no way you can throw my brother in jail,” Emma leaned over the counter and hissed. “Why is it important now, after all these years?”
    â€œâ€™Cause I was never up for a promotion before,” Philip grumbled. “I ain’t going to chase him or rat him out, but if I see him doin’ something suspicious, I’m going to hafta do what’s right. Can I have a refill?”
    Emma huffed and turned away. She moved down the counter to other customers and took a few orders before returning to Philip with a second cup that she plunked down next to the first cup.
    â€œThanks,” Philip mumbled after both cups were filled with coffee so hot Tom could see them steaming from where he sat. Grabbing a newspaper, Philip stuffed it under one arm and took a coffee cup in each hand as he swung off the stool and ambled toward Tom’s table. He slid into the booth opposite Tom, slapped the paper on the table, set the cups down hard enough they rattled on the saucers, and grumbled some words that were definitely not gentlemanly.
    Tom smiled and pulled his cup and the newspaper closer. He opened the paper, folded it, and laid it on the table, glancing over the articles. At that time of day, the diner was filled primarily with men on their way to work, or coming off the night shift from one of the factories. Most were single, and this diner was where they took their meals. The counter and booths were often populated by several men sitting together, eating their meals and discussing whatever the Cleveland Press published that day.
    As long as Philip and Tom played the game and looked like every other fella, no one would ever know they were anything more than casual buddies.
    â€œMorning,” Tom said and sipped his coffee.
    â€œIt’s raining,” Philip groused.
    Tom glanced out the window. “Yes, I noticed that right away when I was outside.” He kicked the bottom of Philip’s foot under the table.
    There was a new waitress working with Emma this morning and she came over with plates. “Emma says you fellas always get the same thing, but she didn’t bother telling me who wants what.”
    â€œEggs and bacon,” Philip said and held up his hand. “Thank you.”
    Tom moved the paper to one side. “Short stack and sausage.”
    As they ate, they exchanged small talk, greeted some of the other regulars who came in and took their customary places. Tom wondered, even though he’d never seen any of them at the Canary, how many were doing the exact same thing as Philip and him.
    Philip finished off his breakfast and slurped down the rest of his coffee. He tossed some money on the table. “Sorry, I hafta start early today. Emma’s ma keeps askin’ me to supper. I ran out of excuses.”
    â€œShe seems like a nice girl,” Tom said. He smirked and swirled his sausage around in maple syrup. “I’m sure she’s a fine cook, too.” Neither was interested in women, but that didn’t mean they could avoid marriage.
    â€œYeah.” Philip stood up and turned so he blocked the view of anyone who might glance in their direction at the wrong time. “Promotion means some extra time off now and again.” He held a piece of paper between two fingers.
    Tom took the paper, read it, and stuffed it in a pocket. He dropped his voice to a whisper and arched an eyebrow. “Oh, I know Emma will appreciate that.”
    Philip glared for a split second before he