“For you,” I said, ruffling her hair.
She looked appalled and dodged my hand. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Just because you’re used to doing something one way doesn’t mean it’s the right way,” I told her. “You’ve spent a lot of time looking out for yourself, but that’s my job now. I’m not about to leave you alone while I go to work.”
“That’s stupid. I’m not a baby.”
“No, you’re not,” I agreed. “But adult supervision is a necessity.”
Waylay muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “bullshit.” I decided to pick my battles and pretend I hadn’t heard.
“If that’s your only reservation, I can easily find someone to hang out with Way here while you rake in the tip money.”
I chewed on my lower lip. I wasn’t a fan of having to decide things on the spot. There were pros and cons to weigh. Research to do. Routes to calculate. Schedules to firm up.
“I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving Waylay with a stranger,” I explained.
“Of course not,” Sherry chirped. “I’ll arrange a meeting, and you can decide then.”
“Uh…”
Justice whistled from the counter. “Order’s up, Fi.”
“Thanks, big guy,” she said, jumping up from her chair. “Well, I’ll see you two ladies later. First shift’s tomorrow night. Be there at five.”
“Wait!”
She cocked her head.
“Where is this job?”
“Honky Tonk,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Bye!”
I watched Sherry Fiasco strut out of the cafe with the confidence of a woman who knew exactly where she was going and what she was doing.
Even when my five-year plan was intact, I hadn’t had that kind of confidence.
“What just happened?” I whispered.
“You got a job and then turned me into a dumb baby.” Waylay’s face was stony.
“I didn’t call you a dumb baby and I didn’t officially accept,” I pointed out.
But I needed income, and the sooner the better. My checking account balance wasn’t exactly going to support us indefinitely. Especially not with rent and security deposits and utilities to worry about. Not to mention the fact that I had no vehicle, no phone, and no computer.
I picked up another cookie and took a bite. “It won’t be so bad,” I promised Waylay.
“Yeah, right,” she scoffed and went back to kicking the table.
SEVEN
A PUNCH IN THE FACE
Knox
“Where you think you’re going?” I asked lazily from my lawn chair parked in the middle of the lane.
The SUV’s bumper had stopped a generous foot from my knees, a cloud of dust rising up behind.
My brother slid out from behind the wheel and rounded the vehicle.
“Shoulda known I’d find you here,” Nash said, his jaw tight as he pulled a slip of paper from his uniform pocket. He crumpled it and threw it at me. It hit me square in the chest. “Harvey said to pass this along to you since it was your fault he was speeding through town this morning.”
It was a speeding ticket written in my brother’s scrawl.
“I have no idea what Harvey’s jabbering about,” I lied and pocketed the citation.
“I see you’re still an irresponsible asshole,” Nash said as if there’d been a chance I’d changed in the past few years.
“I see you’re still a law-abiding dickhead with a stick up his ass.”
Waylon, my lazy basset hound, wandered his stumpy legs off the porch to greet his uncle.
Traitor.
If he thought he’d get more attention or more people food somewhere else, Waylon wasn’t weighed down by loyalty and didn’t hesitate to wander.
I pointed toward the cabin with my beer bottle. “I live here. Remember? Didn’t look like you were slowin’ down to pay me a visit.”
Nash hadn’t set foot in my place in more than three years. I’d done him the same courtesy.
He hunkered down to give Waylon some love. “Got an update for Naomi,” he said.
“And?”
“And the fuck what? It doesn’t involve you. You don’t need to stand sentry like some ugly gargoyle.”
Waylon, sensing he wasn’t the focal point, meandered up to me and nosed at my hand. I gave him a thump on his side and the dog biscuit I’d stashed in the chair’s cup holder. He took it and pranced back to the porch, white-tipped tail a blur of happy.