“I say colored. That cute-as-fuck farmhouse will glitter into the fairy realm if you put perfect white lights on it. Colored with the fat bulbs. Retro and ugly.”
You would not think this, but there was a lot there.
One, Izzy had left all her furniture, but she’d had a huge yard sale, clearing out most of the abundance of the shabby-chic stuff she’d decorated her house with so Brooks and I did not have to live amongst swirly, curlicue cutesy, and so she could buy some insanely expensive wineglasses she had her eye on (as well as save up for her wedding) when she’d moved out.
I was not a shabby-chic girl.
I was twenty-nine years old and I did not know what kind of girl I was seeing as I’d never had the opportunity to decorate. I’d been too busy having fun, living life, fucking up, and falling in love with a cheating loser to get a lock on my preferred home décor.
Two, if I had a choice, I’d put fat, colored, retro bulbs on my house for Christmas cheer because they were festive and ugly. I’d love the hell out of them and Brooks would get a kick out of them.
But knowing Toby was right there with me felt great, which meant it sucked.
And three, there was no way in hell I was going to turn on Christmas lights outside that I couldn’t see except driving up after work, because I simply couldn’t afford it.
The tree, I’d do, in the times Brooks and I were hanging in the family room, plus I already had the fake, pre-lit tree, ornaments and some swags I’d scored at that estate sale.
Unnecessary outdoor decorations, no.
“I’ll get enough to line the edge of roof and come early to do it so when everyone shows on Sunday, they’ll get a load of it. Iz might freak at the retro, but that’ll be part of the fun,” he went on.
“Toby, you really don’t need to do that,” I told him.
“I know. You really don’t need to do anything when it comes to Christmas. But you do because it’s Christmas.”
Really.
Enough.
I could not handle Toby being a holiday person.
Because if I’d ever had the luxury to be a holiday person, I’d totally do that shit up.
Retro and ugly.
“Tobe—”
“I’ll show around noon or one. If you’re at work or something, I’ll just get on with it. You gonna be at work?”
“No, I’m off that day. But Toby—”
“Cool. See you then.”
“Wait!” I cried since it sounded like he was going to ring off.
“What?” he asked.
“It’s sweet you offered, but I don’t want any lights.”
He didn’t say anything for a bit, before he said, “Addie, it’s not a big deal. It’s a few strings of lights, a ladder and a staple gun. It’ll probably take an hour.”
“Yeah, okay, but you know, you don’t have to go through that trouble,” I replied.
“Nothing’s trouble at Christmas.”
Okay.
Damn.
He was a holiday person.
“Did you sweep my steps today?”
“No. Johnny did that. It’s snowing again tonight. You need me to come over and do that tomorrow morning?”
God.
The Gamble Men.
“No. That’s okay. I just, you know . . . everyone helps out a lot and—”
“Adeline, Christmas lights are not a big deal.”
“Tobias, I really can’t afford them,” I admitted.
“You don’t have to afford them. I’m buying them.”
“I mean lighting them.”
Silence.
No, actually, what I was hearing was the definition of the total absence of sound.
“And that’s not really a big deal,” I said hurriedly into the sound void. “It’s just how it is, you know, for a single mom. And it isn’t a biggie. By the time Brooks is old enough to appreciate that kind of thing, life will be steadier.”
“And what about this time when you’re old enough to appreciate it?” he asked.
It was my turn to say nothing.
“You need some money?” he queried.
God.
Just humiliating.
“No, we’re good,” I lied.
He knew I was lying.
And called me on it.
“You’re not good if you don’t got an extra fifty bucks to light some Christmas lights for a couple of months.”
“Next year,” I told him.
“I’ll give you fifty bucks so you can have some lights, Addie.”
If I had an extra fifty bucks, I’d buy Brooks more onesies. He was growing out of the ones he had and garage sale season had dried up.
“Really, it isn’t that big of a deal.”
“Addie—”
“Toby, it just isn’t, okay?” I stated firmly.
“That fuck’s not paying child support,” he declared, low and irate.
Well, he wasn’t.
But even if he was, I still wouldn’t put Christmas lights outside.
“We don’t need him,” I shared.
“Babe, call your attorney. Have his wages garnished.”
And also owe Johnny for more attorney’s fees.
The schedule we had to pay him off would take me three years as it was.
I’d never have Christmas lights if I kept after Perry.
“That might work, if the guy had wages to garnish,” I replied.
“He’s not working?”
“I don’t know what he’s doing, Tobe. I don’t keep in touch with him. My guess, since we haven’t heard from him in months, is that he’s a memory. And that’s okay. I wanted different, but I’m coming to terms with it because he was a memory when we were living with him. So it’s not a big change.”
“Do you want him in Brooklyn’s life?” he asked but didn’t wait for my response. “Because you need that child support, Adeline, and if you want Brooks to have his dad, then I’ll cover your attorney’s fees and you won’t owe me dick. That’ll be for Brooks. Christmas.”
God.
The Gamble Men.
“It’s only been a few months. How about I just give Perry more time to feel out where he’s at, which gives me time to feel out where I’m at, yeah?”
“Where you’re at is you can’t afford fifty bucks to light your house for Christmas.”
This was true, so I had no response.
“I’m putting the lights up, babe.”
I had a response to that.
“Toby, really, I do not want that.”
“Yes, you do. But even if you didn’t, I don’t give a fuck. I want it for you.”
Whoa.
He sounded mad.
Like, really mad.
I’d never heard him sound really mad.
He also was being bossy.
I’d never heard him be bossy.
It was hot.
Shit.
Toby kept speaking, all angry, bossy and hot.
“So I’m gonna give it to you and I’m gonna pay your electricity bill until February so you can have it and don’t think you can stop that shit. You can’t leave your register at the store, but I can leave the garage whenever I want, grab your mail and pay that fucker, which is what I’m gonna do.”
I decided instead of getting turned on by his pissed off and bossy, I was gonna let it tick me off.
Way safer place to be with Toby.
“It’s a felony to steal someone’s mail,” I snapped.
“Have me arrested,” he returned. “Now see you around noon on Sunday, Lollipop. And I’m bringing the beer and wine.”
He did not give me a chance to say a word.
He hung up on me.
I swiped at my phone but did not do it to call him back.
I texted, You’re a stubborn ass, Tobias Gamble.
I didn’t get the chance to even put the phone down before he texted back, And?
So I returned, And a pain in MY ass.
I again didn’t get the chance to put the phone
down when he’d replied, And?
To this I retorted, And this means I’m never making my chicken parmigiana for you again.
He loved that meal. It was special. Special meaning kinda expensive to make it, but he loved it so much, since I’d met him seven months ago, regardless that it was an extravagance, I’d made it for him six times.
Shit, I was a mess.
His text was longer so I actually had angrily dropped my phone to the desk before I got back, Iz told me that’s hers and she thinks I’m the shit, not a pain in her ass, so if I want it, she’ll make it for me. Golden.
Don’t come on Sunday, Talon. You’re officially uninvited.
I get another sassy text from you, Lollipop, I’m stealing your water and gas bills and paying those until February too.
I dropped my phone that time like it burned.
Then I glared at it.
And honestly, if I could afford a new one if it broke (and I wasn’t worried it might wake up my boy), I would have thrown it across the room.
But since I probably wouldn’t be able to afford a new one for five years, I just kept glaring at it.
Then, since I might make twenty or thirty bucks off them, I got back to making Deanna’s cards.
Toby
Toby waited for the sassy reply.
When it didn’t come, he turned and threw his phone across the room.
It bounced off the wood paneling and fell to the floor.
He scowled at it.
Fifty bucks.
Addie couldn’t put fifty bucks toward having some Christmas lights.
He could get away with putting lights up anyway and swiping her bills to pay them a couple of months.
That was all he could do.
She was his brother’s fiancée’s sister.
Kind of like his sister-type friend.
That was all she was because that was all she could be.
He could get away with a little because she was family and that was all unless she asked for help.
Which Adeline would not do.
She had too much Daphne Forrester in her.
Johnny had told him all about Daphne and the Forrester Girls.
It was her against the world.
And she was gonna face that head on.
She’d lose her mind, and he might lose her how he had her if he shared what he now knew with Iz, Johnny or Margot, because all of them would wade in somehow and Addie would hate that.
And she’d lose her mind, and he might lose her how he had her if he intervened, found out who her attorney was and paid them to find that motherfucker and force him, at least financially, to help Addie raise their child.
Instead, he had to take what he could get away with and that was it.
The only good thing that came from him coming home, outside of spending time with his family, falling in brotherly love with his soon-to-be sister-in-law who was the shit, and being able to spend time with Addie in the ways he could, was when he’d forced through the bile taste in his mouth Bryce’s interest in taking her out.
And she’d said no.
But that wouldn’t last forever.
She was funny, feisty and gorgeous. An amazing mom. Responsible. Hard-working.
She had way too much goddamned pride, but she also loved her kid too much to let that get in the way when she found someone who she’d be willing to let in, who’d be someone who’d be all in to help out.
But Addie would settle in and she wouldn’t find a man.
A man would find her.
Christ, he shouldn’t have stayed.
Stayed to be close to her.
In the end, it was good he did. After Brooks got kidnapped, Addie had been shaken and she’d needed all the support she could get.
The backbone on that woman, though, even after her baby got kidnapped by Stu, Shandra’s shifty motherfucker of a brother, in order for him to use Brooks as ransom from Johnny, Adeline had needed support for about a week.
Now, there was no reason for him to stay.
Definitely not doing it watching her get her feet under her and then another man in her life.
All of this meant Toby made a decision.
He’d stay for the holiday.
He’d enjoy the holiday with his family, his first with his soon-to-be sister-in-law, and he’d spoil the shit out of Addie and Brooks during a day she couldn’t say dick about him doing that.
And then he was out of there.
I Said Yo
Addie
“DEFINITELY SHOULD SET up an Etsy store.”
I stared at Macy across the counter in her flower shop.
It was Friday, two days after my invitation to the Usual Suspects to get together to start off the festive Christmas season and my subsequent chats with Deanna and Toby.
Last night, outside making more cards, I’d decided it was time to go online and assess my financial situation.
And I discovered what I’d feared as it festered in the back of my head was right.
I had a cushion that came from having a job in a swank restaurant down in Chattanooga before I’d left Perry. My tips were crazy good. We lived in a safe apartment that didn’t cost the moon. And I was tight with money. It would have been more if I also hadn’t had to take care of Perry during that time, but it still was a nice cushion.
Not to mention, since Izzy didn’t need any of her furniture when she moved, my friends down in Tennessee helped out and I unloaded all my stuff, besides Brooks’s crib, dresser, changing table and other baby provisions, which Izzy and Johnny (and Toby, damn it) had gone down with me to move, with all the other stuff I was keeping.
Unloading all that obviously didn’t make me a millionaire.
But it had enhanced my cushion.
A cushion, since I now lived beyond my means, I dipped into monthly to meet the basic necessities.
I did calculations, and if I didn’t give Brooks a single present for Christmas, that cushion would disappear in April.
If I did give Brooks a proper Christmas, it’d be gone in March.
Either way, if I didn’t sort something out, I’d have to do what Daphne would lose her shit about.
I’d have to start charging things to a credit card that I could not afford to pay off every month.
Do not ever, to anyone, for any reason, get into debt, my queens, she’d said, more than once. A kind-hearted soul can be a lender, but a borrower you should never be. Debt is a string. Strings tie you down. And I want my queens to fly free.
I had never, not once, not in my wildest days, not even when I’d lost my mind for that year and got caught up in the club scene that was all about tight dresses, high heels, big hair and lots of makeup and accessories, got caught up in the whole credit card thing.
And the first time I’d borrowed money, it was from Johnny and that had only been okay because things got ugly with Perry and it was for Brooks.
Now I was understanding my mother’s lesson.
Because it seemed I was now in the position that I had to make one of five choices.
First, ask Johnny for a deferment of the loan until I could figure something out.
Second, take Brooks out of daycare and take Margot up on her offer of free childcare for my son.
Third, tell Izzy I couldn’t afford the full mortgage and either move out, or ask her to cover part of it (a large part) so we could stay.
Fourth, quit the grocery store and find another job, maybe in the city (which might mean we’d have to move to the city), probably as a server in a high-end restaurant where I’d make in a week just on tips what I made at the store over a month.
Or fifth, get a second job, which would mean I’d have to lean on somebody to look after Brooks because I worked forty hours a week already. And since the grocery store was open from six to nine as well as on weekends (when it was open until ten on Saturday) I already had to lean on friends and family for Brooks. Whatever extra job I got would be in addition to that since it would definite
ly have to be outside normal daycare hours.
This last might happen anyway. Last night I’d also looked at rentals in Matlock, and even though they were less than Izzy’s mortgage payment, with daycare and all the rest, they’d have to be practically free.
The good news was, that morning when I got to work, I told Michael, the store manager, I’d be up for any overtime he could give me. And since it was the holiday season and he was looking for part-timers to help, he was all over it and said he could easily give me an extra fifteen to twenty hours a week.
For him, paying me time and a half would be half of what he’d have to pay an extra staff member, not to mention he’d save time and headache on a hiring process.
For me it was just time and a half.
It’d only be an extra seven fifty to a thousand bucks in the next month, but that would mean Christmas for Brooks and I’d still be able to push out my cushion until April. I’d also be close to a raise at the store, since I heard they gave you one after a year if you had a good performance evaluation.
Still.
Even with a five percent raise, that’d only be maybe fifteen extra dollars a week.
But the store had good health insurance.
And being in Matlock meant I was close to Izzy and Brooks’s support network.
But the bottom line was, I just simply could not afford my current situation and give a decent life to my child working at that store, even after I got a raise.
There was no way around it.
I was fucked, any way you cut it.
Until Macy said that.
She’d handed me fifty dollars from the cards she’d sold, took the entire stock I offered her, asked for a load more Christmas cards by Monday and finally, she’d suggested Etsy.
How much did people make on Etsy?
I could make cards, sell them online, drop them off at the post office during lunch.
I’d probably have to sell a ton of cards.
And thus make a ton of cards.
But I’d made ten since Wednesday.
And I might be able to do other stuff, like place markers or something.
I needed to get on Etsy and suss this out.
“And Carol, who owns Gifts ’n’ Goodies in Bellevue, told me to tell you to swing around,” Macy continued. “She was in this week and said she loved your stuff. Said she’d be thrilled to put some by the register. People are beginning to think it’s hip to buy local. It’s becoming a big thing, thank God.”
The Slow Burn ~ Kristen Ashley Page 6