by J. H. Croix
Gritting my teeth, I bit my tongue to keep from snapping at him. Instead, I sat back and sipped my coffee. “I’m not going to answer, bro. I’m not going to talk to him. I’ve had enough of him and all the shit he’s put in our lives. He has to learn to deal with it.”
Chapter Four
Sadie
Emery lay next to me in my bed when I woke up. Her tiny body was snuggled close to mine, and her hair fell across her forehead as she slept, one arm draped over her stomach and the other with her elbow sticking into my neck.
Gently shifting, I glanced down at her. She was tall for her age, lanky and skinny. It had taken me a long time to accept that skinny didn’t mean she had to eat more. Developmentally, it was just the phase she was going through.
It was hard to believe she was six years old already. Sometimes it felt like yesterday that those two little lines appeared on the pregnancy test and changed the world as I knew it. Being a single mom wasn’t easy, but I wouldn’t change having Emery in my life for anything.
A sentiment not shared by her father. He hadn’t believed me when I told him I was pregnant and had immediately insisted that even if I was, the baby wasn’t his. I never told him there was absolutely no way she could belong to anyone else.
He didn’t care or want to know about her, and I didn’t want to put her through the tests and trauma of her proving her DNA to him—not that he’d ever asked me to. I’d been young and having fun. A one-night stand, likely forgotten the next day by her father, had rolled the dice and given me Emery.
That night had changed my entire life. I hadn’t regretted it, not for one minute. I didn’t care how weary I was sometimes working two jobs just to make ends meet. It was all worth it to have her in my life.
When I woke up last night after the movie ended, I’d tucked her into her own bed. I was so tired, I didn’t notice her climbing into bed with me at some point.
My stomach grumbled, reminding me it was time for breakfast. I tried to slip out of bed quietly, but Emery’s eyes opened as soon as I moved. “Where are you going, Mommy?”
“It’s time for breakfast, sweetie. Do you feel like an omelet?”
She nodded, rubbing her eyes before following me out of bed. “Can I have one with only cheese in it?”
“Sure.” We headed to the kitchen in our pajamas, and Emery nibbled on sliced fruit while I cracked eggs for the omelets.
“I was thinking, Mommy,” she started. Uh- oh, I thought. Here we go. “Before we paint a friend for Glitter, we should go to the zoo.”
“We should?” I asked, scrambling the eggs in a bowl that was chipped on one side. “Why is that?”
“We haven’t been to the zoo in forever,” she said emphatically.
I laughed. Emery’s measurement of time these days was simple. Either we’d done something in the past week, or we hadn’t done it in forever. Apparently, I had one of her friends from school to thank for that development.
“We went three months ago,” I told her. “Do you remember? We saw the bobcat and the owl.”
She rubbed her chin and nodded thoughtfully. “We never saw the red fox.”
“We didn’t,” I agreed. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to go to the park instead?”
The zoo was in Savannah. Cypress Creek was too small a town to have its own. I didn’t mind driving Emery to the zoo. I knew how much she loved to look at the animals, but Savannah was a lot farther away than the park, and we were on a tight budget.
The corners of Emery’s mouth turned down. “We don’t have to go to the zoo.”
I forged a smile, hating that she could read me so well. If I was worried about something, Emery could tell almost immediately and would then try to make me feel better. On one hand, I loved that she cared, but on the other, I hated knowing she worried. “No. If you want to go to the zoo, then the zoo it is. I was just making sure you didn’t prefer the park.”
“Okay, Mommy,” she said after a minute. “Can we see the red fox today? And the alligator? Do you think the turtle will come out of its shell?”
“I hope so, but we’re going to have to wait and see.” Emery talked about the zoo all through breakfast, babbling away excitedly.
It sounded like some of her friends had been there recently, and they’d managed to get their photo taken with the cougar in the background. Our mission today, which I gladly accepted, was to get some pictures taken of Emery with animals in the background.
Once we were dressed and lunch was packed, we set off for Savannah. “Do you want to play a game?”
She nodded from her booster seat, eagerly clapping her hands. “What game?”
I racked my mind for something that wasn’t “I Spy” or any of the other normal ones. A truck passing us by gave me an idea. I pointed at it. “Do you see the license plate on that truck?”
She nodded again.
“Can you see the letters P, E, and Z on it?”
Squinting, she answered. “Yes.”
“Okay, here’s how the game works. I’ll read the letter on the license plates of cars that pass us, and you think of an animal with a name that starts with each letter. Sound like fun?”
“An animal game!” she exclaimed, her eyes bright with excitement. “I’m ready.”
“Good, let’s start with that one. Can you think of an animal with a P?”
Emery pursed her lips before her eyes popped wide open. “Pig!”
“Well done,” I cheered, unable to help the swell of pride that filled my chest. I would never grow tired of watching Emery learn and figuring things out for herself. I loved the way her eyes lit up and the brilliant smile spread on her face. “What about an E?”
“Eagle,” she replied almost immediately, which was not surprising since it was a bird she was looking forward to seeing today.
I thought about leaving out the Z, but then I decided to give it shot. The point of the game was to help her learn as much as it was to have fun. “Do you know of any animals that start with a Z?”
Her eyes narrowed, her forehead scrunching. “No. Maybe.”
She thought for a few more minutes and then shook her head. “I can’t think of any.”
“That’s okay. It’s a hard one. Have you ever heard of a zebra?”
Almost immediately when I said it, I saw her remember. “They have stripes.”
“That’s right,” I told her, searching for a license plate in the light traffic passing us by that didn’t contain any of the more difficult letters. Emery and I played the game all the way to Savannah.
By the time we arrived at the zoo, all the talk of animals had her buzzing with excitement. We fell in line behind the other families at the entrance and bought our tickets.
Emery tugged on my hand when we were past the admissions booth, skipping to the barnyard on our left. There were a couple of other kids clamoring to see the animals, so I lifted her up so she could see them too.
“A pig, Mommy! Look. Pig starts with P.”
I smiled. “That’s right, sweetie. Can you see the sheep?”
Her head bopped up and down. “It’s so fluffy.”
A woman with flaming red hair and twin boys standing beside her turned to me. “They’re having a sheep shearing event at one o’clock. She might enjoy that.”
“Thanks,” I told her.
Emery twisted her head around to look at me. “What’s sheep shearing?”
“It’s when they shave the sheep to get its wool off for the summer,” I explained. Emery looked horrified that the sheep was going to lose its wool, while the boys beside us couldn’t wait to see it happen.
At the fox, Emery posed in front of the enclosure, and I managed to get a picture of her with the animal in the background.
She was thrilled.
“Where to next, hon?” I asked.
She pointed at a sign with a picture of a bison on it and an arrow pointing down a pathway. “Let’s go see him.”
“Lead the way,” I said, taking her hand as
we meandered down the path. A man came down the same path, headed back to the main attractions. He was barking into his phone and walking so fast, he was practically running.
I pulled Emery slightly to one side, thinking the man would stay on his side and avoid bumping into us. The next second, however, he ran right into Emery and knocked her to the ground.
“Hey,” I called out, dropping onto my knees to check if Emery was hurt. She looked a little dazed but didn’t seem to have any injuries.
The man kept going as if nothing had happened. I stayed on the ground with Emery but went off on him. “Excuse me? You bumped into my little girl and knocked her to the ground. An apology is the least you can do!”
Still, he kept walking.
“Hey, you! You on the phone! They shouldn’t even allow you into places like this, Mr. Self- Important. How about a little common decency?”
The man swung around to face me, fixing an apologetic look onto his features as he walked back to us. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“You didn’t see me or the six-year-old you walked right over?” I glowered at him when he finally stopped and turned around.
He shook his head. “No, and I said I was sorry. Are you okay?”
“No thanks to you,” I snapped, knowing my protective side was going into overdrive, but you couldn’t knock a child over and pretend it never happened.
Holding his hands up like he was surrendering, he walked away backward. “I’m sorry, okay. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, and she’s not hurt.”
“Watch where you’re going next time,” I muttered, trying to regain my sense of calm. “You’re a menace.”
The ass had the audacity to smirk at me before turning around. “I’ll keep an eye out next time, ma’am.”
I was silently fuming as Emery and I went to look at the bison. A couple of hours and lots of pictures of Emery, me, and both of us later, we’d watched the sheep shearing, eaten our lunch, and were on our way home.
Despite Emery’s tumble onto the ground, we’d had a good day. Emery fell asleep in the booster seat halfway home. I drove the rest of the way in silence, contemplating how much I appreciated these little snippets of time with her.
The gas money to Savannah hadn’t been in my budget, but we had some leeway in it for trips like that at least. As I was pulling up into our driveway, I noticed a plume of smoke coming out of my engine.
I shut the car off, but the smoke kept coming.
“Fuck,” I muttered quietly. That was the last thing I needed.
There might’ve been leeway in the budget for a trip to the zoo. There definitely wasn’t leeway, padding, or savings to pay for engine repairs.
I resisted the urge to cry, closing my eyes to stem the flow of tears threatening to fall. Fuck. What was I going to do?
Chapter Five
Evan
Sundays were my days off. Even on weekends when I had to come in on Saturdays to get stuff done, I had a strict rule about Sundays. The shop was closed. It didn’t matter who you were or how urgent your problem was, you could wait until Monday.
I only ever came in on Sundays to work on my own truck like I was doing today. There was nothing major that needed to be done on her—she was perfect and ran like a dream—but routine maintenance was what kept things running.
Unlocking only the side entrance, I shut the metal door behind me and breathed in the familiar, comforting smell of my livelihood. My shoes didn’t make a sound against the stained concrete floors of the garage.
I got some music going on the radio we kept behind the counter and flicked on the lights by the parking bay where I would be working. After fixing myself a cup of coffee, I pushed the button to roll up one of the garage doors so I could pull my truck in.
I hadn’t even started working on it yet, and already the routine and the calm of the usually crowded and busy shop was working its magic on me. My shoulders relaxed and the shitty memories of the trial and everything my brothers had gone through because of my dad were starting to grow fainter. I hadn’t thought about any of that lately, but with my father calling out of the blue from prison, he’d nudged loose those old frustrations.
The ringing of the shop phone invaded my thoughts. Setting down my coffee, I let force of habit make me pick up the receiver. It wasn’t even halfway to my ear before I regretted answering it. The shop was closed, and it was my day off. I didn’t need to deal with anyone calling the shop today.
“Hello?” a feminine voice asked on the other end of the line. “Is anyone there?”
I sighed, knowing I couldn’t very well slam the phone down on the customer after I’d picked up. “Yeah. This is Evan Lovett speaking.”
“I’m so glad I caught you open on a Sunday. My car started smoking yesterday, and now it won’t start.” The woman’s words came out rushed. “Please tell me I can bring it by today. I hope I’m not too late already.”
I lifted my eyes to the plain black and white clock mounted above the counter. It was barely eight in the morning. “I’m afraid we’re not open today, ma’am. You’re going to have to—”
“No. Oh please, no. This car is the only vehicle I have, and I work two jobs, so I can’t come in tomorrow. If you’re already there, I can make a plan to get the car to you. If you could have a look at it, I’d be so grateful. I don’t know what else to do.”
The poor woman sounded panicked, her voice cracking with unshed tears as she spoke. I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and sucked in a deep breath. I needed to clear my head today, but on the other hand, I couldn’t leave a customer high and dry. I’d worked my butt off to gain my reputation as a good business owner in that town, and I didn’t want to lose it.
“Okay, ma’am. Look, I can’t promise you I’ll get whatever is wrong with it repaired today, but I’ll take a look. Like I said, we’re not actually open on Sunday. I’m here by myself, and if I need to order any parts, they won’t be here until later in the week. You might still not have your car for work tomorrow, but let’s see what we can do.”
“Thank you,” she exclaimed. I didn’t have a clue who she was, but I could hear the relief clear as a bell in her voice. “I hate to ask but...”
“I’ll have a tow truck sent to your house,” I preempted her question. She’d already told me the car wouldn’t start. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she’d been about to ask me. “Let me get your address, and I’ll see you in a little bit.”
Cursing myself for picking up the phone and agreeing to look at the car, I got on the phone with the tow company next. The favor I was about to call in was going to cost me big time, the price of doing business in my industry around these parts on a Sunday.
Unfortunately for people with car trouble, everyone knew it was difficult to find someone willing to come out on a Sunday. As a result, if they did agree, it was usually at a steep profit. The phone rang a few more times before I reached the towing company.
Little Mike, who weighed two hundred pounds on a good day, answered cheerfully. “Mr. Evan Lovett, as I live and breathe. What can I do you for this fine day?”
Mike and his cousins who he owned the business with knew we weren’t ever open on Sundays. It was little wonder he was so surprised to hear from me. “I need a favor for a customer, Mike.”
“Sure you do,” he said. “Let me guess, friend of yours broke down just outside of town, and you need one of my guys to help out?”
“Something like that,” I told him. There wasn’t much point in relaying the woman’s sob story to Mike. It wouldn’t make a difference to whatever it was he was going to ask of me in return for sending the tow. “I have a customer who needs an urgent repair done. Think you could pick her up for me this morning?”
“Sure, sure,” Mike said quickly. “Text me the address, and I’ll send one of our guys right over.”
“Thanks, Mike.” I braced myself, knowing the exchange was coming.
“We’ll do it for you, Lovett,” he said. “My aunt Ann
ie is already cooking a big family brunch. One of us is going to be late on account of us doing you a favor. Aunt Annie isn’t gonna be happy.”
I dragged my free hand through my hair, gripping the base of my neck as I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. “Spit it out, Mike. What’s this going to cost me?”
“Nothing as major as risking Aunt Annie’s wrath by being late for a family meal on a Sunday.” Bullshit. I knew his Aunt Annie. Her “wrath” would be like facing a growling puppy before it realized you were home and it was actually happy to see you. “One of our trucks has been worrying us. Makes this godawful sound whenever the roads get a bit bumpy. You work on her for free, and we go get your friend.”
I didn’t bother correcting him that the woman was a customer, not a friend. Having already promised her I’d send a tow truck, I couldn’t tell Mike to shove his “favor” where the sun didn’t shine. Although, all things considered, it wasn’t too bad.
The Colton cousins were the only ones who would do that for me without charging the customer an exorbitant amount of money for the pickup. And I didn’t like being associated with the people who ran their businesses by essentially exploiting desperate clients. Exploitation was a few letters too close to extortion for my liking.
Still, I fucking hated that people like Mike Colton always wanted something in return. Being a decent human being who helped another out was that hard. Ultimately, I didn’t have much of a choice. The woman would be waiting for her tow.
“Fine. Call me next week, and we’ll set up a time for you to bring it in. In the meantime, have you got a pen with you so I can give you the customer’s address?”
“Hang on a sec.” I heard him scratching around his desk and rattled off the address she gave me when he told me he was ready. “I’ll be calling you in a couple of days, Lovett. You have a blessed Sunday now.”