“First, she doesn’t have interest elsewhere. Second, I’m not forcing myself on anyone. Third, she’ll come around, and when she does, I have to be standing right there, otherwise she might miss me. Good talk, though. Appreciate your concern.” I sweep the rest of the potatoes into my mouth, swallow, and then gather up my plate and utensils. “Sadie, best damn steak in the country once again,” I holler as I make my way to the kitchen. I dump my dishes into the sink and give the older woman a quick smooch. “Thanks. Any leftovers?”
She points to the cardboard box. “I made a casserole from the steak and potatoes. It’s enough to feed them a couple of days.”
“You’re the best, Sadie.” I grab the box and take off before my parents can cook up another argument. I have a feeling this isn’t the last I’m going to hear of me wasting my life away for Rory.
At Rory’s house, there’s only one light on and no Jeep in the driveway. The blue light of the television flickers in the window. I knock, but no one comes to the door, so I open it.
Her brother, Dean, immediately screams and throws a game controller at my head.
I duck out of the way. “What the hell, Dean?”
“Sorry, fuck, I thought you were someone else.” He trudges over to pick up the discarded device and then peeks into my box. “What’s in here?”
“Potato steak casserole. Just dump some on a plate and heat it up in the microwave. There’s also au jus sauce to go with it along with some fresh corn and biscuits.”
“Sweet. Come over here, Logan, let’s eat before Rory gets home.”
“Where is Rory?”
“Working. Where else?”
“It’s Tuesday, though. She usually finishes her deliveries by seven.”
“Yeah, but the café was down a waitress because Megan went into labor,” Dean informs me as he piles two plates high with the food.
“Shit. Does that mean she’ll be working at the café every night now instead of just the weekends?”
“Probably.” He and Logan sit down and start eating like it's their first meal of the day, although I know they get lunch since I, secretly, pay for that.
I drop into an empty chair and pour myself a glass of milk. “Girl is going to kill herself from work.”
Dean drops his fork to the table. “I told her I would take a job—”
“Dean, you’re eleven. You’re not working.” I shake my head. “Your job is to eat, play video games, study sometimes, and watch out for Logan.”
Six-year-old Logan gives me a smile full of potatoes and corn. I reach out and ruffle his hair. The Carlson family is in a bad way, and Rory won’t let anyone help her. She can’t, really, because the state wants to take the kids and put them in foster homes, so Rory has to pretend that their little family is intact. Her mom Sheila shows up every once in a while to keep up appearances, and no men seem to linger around long with Sheila.
I wish she’d let me help her more, but she’s got her pride. I finish my glass of milk and lean forward. “You got homework, Dean?”
“No. Finished it, but do you wanna play FIFA with me?”
“No. You’re too good.”
“Chickenshit.” He sticks out his tongue.
“Fine, but only one game. A man’s got his pride.” I start tidying up the kitchen.
“I won’t beat you too bad, Tyson. Promise.”
We both know that’s an empty lie, but I sit my ass down in the living room on the worn-out pile carpet full of stains and cigarette holes and play FIFA with Dean. At ten, Logan conks out, and I carry him to bed. I make Dean climb in next to him since they share a double, and then I go out and sit in my truck until Rory pulls up an hour later.
CHAPTER 4
RORY
I’m thankful when I pull in the driveway and see Tyson’s car parked outside the house. I had no idea I was going to be pulled into the diner tonight. I was dead on my feet from a full day of deliveries, but I couldn’t say no. Megan, one of the other servers, went into labor a month early. I’m not surprised Megan went early, considering she’s looked as if she were ready to pop for a while now.
There was no option but for me to go in. My boss, Jenny, was already short-staffed, and I couldn’t tell her no. She’s always helpful and flexible with me. More than she needs to be. I also don’t have the luxury to turn down money. Not with having two brothers to feed and clothe at home.
Since I didn’t know I was going to be home late, I hadn’t prepared anything for the boys' dinner. Usually I’m more organized, especially when it comes to them. They’ve experienced enough chaos in their lives. I try not to beat myself up too much about it. It’s not like they don’t have snacks and such to pick on. But I try to make sure they have a proper dinner every night. Mrs. Walkey, who lives a bit down the road, swings by to check on them from time to time, but Tuesday nights she has her church choir practice.
Mom has been gone for a few days, and I’m betting it will be a few more before she pops up again. I tried to reach her, but her phone was off. I pay that damn bill so I can try to get ahold of her, but she can’t even charge the thing. I don’t know why I ever hold out hope that she might come through for me once in a while. That I could actually depend on her for something. I should know better.
Somehow, though, I hadn’t been too worried. Deep down, I knew Tyson would swing by and check in. It dawns on me that he’s actually the one person I can count on to always be around. The boys can be pretty good about minding themselves when they’re home alone, which is more often than I'd like them to be for their ages, but sometimes they can get a bit crazy.
I no sooner have my old Jeep in park and Tyson is opening the driver’s side door for me. “I’ve been missing you.” I snort a laugh. I think I’m so tired I’ve got the giggles now. At the sound of my laughter, Tyson’s whole face lights up.
“They good when you check in on them?” I ask. I actually take his hand and let him help me out. When my feet hit the ground, he doesn’t release his hold but instead tangles our fingers together.
“They’re good. Playing video games.”
“Thank you. I know you got them that gaming system.” My brothers are a weak spot for me, and Tyson knows it. It’s the one place I can never bring myself to get upset with him.
“Sometimes I need someone to play with me online.” He shrugs it off like it’s no big deal.
“Well, thanks. I should go feed them.” I try to free my hand, but it’s pointless. Tyson only holds it tighter and starts to walk me toward the door.
“Rory! The news said we might get snow! Maybe we won’t have school!” Dean shouts as he comes running out the front door.
“Since when do you watch the news?”
“Someone told me in the game.”
“No school?” Logan is out the door behind him.
“I don’t think we’re getting snow, guys,” I say, not wanting them to get their hopes up.
“I can see my breath.” Logan tilts his head back and starts making little puffs.