That was fun, and Haven said they got some good shots. Now they wanted to do some interviews in town at some of his favorite local haunts.
“Let’s stop there,” Haven said, pointing out a local luncheonette. “This is a familiar hangout for a lot of the sports teams. I called ahead, and Ralph said we could film inside.”
Trevor grinned. “I haven’t had a cheeseburger in here in a long time.”
“And it just so happens it’s around the lunch hour.”
He gave her a sidelong look. “It’s like you planned it this way.”
“It is, isn’t it,” she said with a waggle of her brows.
Ralph had been the owner and manager of the luncheonette forever—at least according to Ralph. He was in his late sixties now, and beamed a smile at them as they walked in. Ralph looked like he ate at least two cheeseburgers a day, but he still had plenty of energy as he hurried from behind the counter with his arms outstretched to pull Trevor into a big bear hug.
“Trevor Shay. It’s about time you showed your face here again.”
“It’s good to be here. I’m hungry.”
“Haven called and said you’d be coming in. I’ll put those burgers on right now. Still with grilled onions and pickles, no mustard?”
The one thing everyone liked about Ralph was that once you became a regular, he never forgot your likes and dislikes. “Still the same.”
Trevor and Haven made their way to the corner booth. It was just after the peak lunch crowd, so the place wasn’t as crowded as it normally would be, since most of the students would be back in class by now.
Even Andy, the camera guy, ordered a cheeseburger and put the camera down while they ate.
“Ralph makes the best fries you’ll ever eat,” Trevor told Andy.
“This is truth,” Haven said, shoving two in her mouth.
Andy agreed, and they enjoyed an interview-free lunch. Ralph even came over and sat with them, reliving old times, including Trevor’s junior year, when the team won the national championship. He pointed out a picture on the wall of the team. Trevor grinned, remembering when they’d all come in and signed that photo for Ralph.
“It’s one of my prized possessions,” Ralph said.
After lunch, Andy grabbed the camera, and Haven asked questions about the diner.
“What makes Ralph’s a special memory for you?”
“My roommates—Garrett Scott, Gray Preston, and Drew Hogan—we’d all hang out here when we didn’t have class or sports practice. The burgers are great, and all our friends would be here. It was a good spot.”
“To meet girls?”
Trevor grinned. “Well, that, too, but it’s off campus, and everyone from the college comes here. It’s a tradition. Me and the guys made it a point to meet here every Monday afternoon after practice. Unless one of us had a game, we were here.”
He looked around, the memories as thick as gnats invading the field on a hot summer night. He could still see them all sitting in this very booth—younger versions of all of them—laughing like crazy, girls surrounding them. God, life had been great back then. “We’d sit here and plan out our futures, talk about where we were gonna be in ten years.”
“And has it worked out the way you thought it would?”
He looked at Haven. “Better in a lot of ways. I’m fortunate to be living my dream, playing in two sports. And I have your father—Bill Briscoe—to thank for much of that.”
Haven paused for a second, giving him an unguarded glimpse of both her pain and her gratitude at his statement. “And why is that?”
“Bill and Ginger Briscoe were the dorm parents for the sports dorm. But they were a lot more than that to all of us. To me. I struggled academically and emotionally. Bill was tough when I needed someone to be tough on me, and listened when I needed an adult to talk to. I wasn’t the easiest kid back then, but he really understood me. He gave me space when I needed it, and he sure as hell knew when to rein me in. I’m not lying when I say I wouldn’t be who I am today without him.”
“Okay, let’s cut here,” Haven said, then turned to Trevor. “Thank you.”
“Just stating the truth.”
After thanking Ralph for the lunch and saying good-bye, they headed over to one of the bars. It wasn’t open yet, so they did an interview outside, where Trevor told some tales about some outlandish antics he and the guys had gotten into on some wild weekend nights after games. He had Haven and Andy laughing when he told them the story about sneaking a very drunken but just-a-month-from-age-twenty-one underage Drew out of the bar one night when the cops came in because the bar was over capacity. It had been a big win for the football team, so it seemed like everyone on campus had crowded into the bar that night to celebrate.