They weren't hard to spot--or, at least, Luke wasn't. He was leaning over the jukebox, clutching the half-empty beer he'd set on top of it, and apparently arguing passionately with Suzette.
As Tawny approached, she caught the last few snatches of their conversation.
“Meat Loaf is an under appreciated artist,” he was saying, his face dead serious. “He just wears his heart on his sleeve, you know?”
In response, Suzette reached out to take his beer from him, only to have him snag it back and take another gulp.
"Oh, Tawny, good." Suzette grinned, her gaze looking desperate as she placed her hand on her friend's shoulder. "He jut sank twenty dollars in the jukebox. Enjoy."
"But--" Tawny started, but Suzette shook her head.
"Uh, uh, uh. This is between the two of you. There's a whiskey sour at the bar with my name on it and the ice is already melting. I’ve done my good deed for the day. Call me tomorrow and let me know how it goes."
“Right. Uhh,” Tawny said, but before she got the chance to wish her friend a good night, or, more likely claw at her arm and beg her to stay, Luke started shouting her name.
“Tawny! You're here!" He ushered her over with a sweep of his arm. "Come pick out a song. Suzette wanted to play the Boot Scootin’ Boogie, and I'm pretty sure anything else would be an improvement."
Tawny pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger, then said, "Luke, what are you doing?"
"Right now? Trying to decide which is a better song--Do you like Heaven Can Wait or Paradise by the Dashboard Light?"
“Dear God, neither. Come on, Luke—”
"That's the thing, though. I don't know much about you, do I? Maybe you're more of a Destiny's Child, N*Sync kind of girl?"
"Luke, come on." She grabbed his sleeve as he pressed another button on the jukebox. "What are you doing right now?"
"I'm getting drunk." He took another sip of his beer then, realizing it was empty, his face fell.
"Right. Well, I think it might be time to sit back and enjoy your musical selections and have something to drink that doesn’t have alcohol in it, alright?" She took his hand in hers and led him to a booth on the far side of the room, ignoring the gazes of the people watching them as they went. It could be worse, she reminded herself. He could have been screaming to all the world about the baby. Now all she had to do was sober him up and get him home before he had the chance to do just that.
Almost as soon as they sat down, a harassed looking waitress appeared at the edge of their table.
"I'll have--" Luke began, but Tawny cut him off.
"He'll have a strong black coffee. And a soda for me. Um, cherry cola if you have it."
"You got it. Anything else?" The waitress glanced from Luke to Tawny and back again.
"French fries?" Luke asked, a speculative gleam in his eyes. Tawny blew out a sigh.
"Yeah, okay. Your biggest order of French fries. Please."
"With cheese and gravy,” Luke added.
"Sure thing." The woman walked away and Luke's gaze followed her for a minute before he spoke again.
"She seemed nice."
"Yep," Tawny said, and in the background, the strains of Sweet Caroline began to play, “She’s a saint, if you ask me.”
"I love this song," Luke said, already on to something new.
"This song?"
"It's one of my favorites. My mom sings it when she cleans the house." He clutched his empty beer glass and tried to take another sip, but Tawny took it from him.
Apparently, he hadn't noticed this, though, because he was too busy screaming "Bum bum bum!" along to the music with the rest of the bar.
When the chorus ended, he turned to her, a thoughtful expression in his eyes. "Caroline is a nice name."
"Not for a boy," she countered, and then Luke's eyes widened and he looked as though someone had just punched him in the gut.
“Oh yeah. It’s a boy. A baby boy.”
He shook his head and the shadow of reality crashing in on his buzz fell over his face. All at once, he looked like a lost child and a very old man and when he raised his gaze to hers again, everything hit her all at once.
He looked exactly the way she'd felt when she'd seen the little screen of the pregnancy test, and when she met his eyes she could see the struggle for understanding mingled with the hurt and the confusion and the hope. All the things that this baby was to her, staring right back at her.
Both of their worlds, their lives, had been thrown off their axis and where she'd had four months to deal with reality, he'd had less than 24 hours.
“I’m sorry to put you through all this," she said, just loud enough to be heard over the music. “And I’m sorry I was so mean at the doctor’s office at first. Its just…”