Page 11 of Knot Happening

It’s not a far walk to the diner, and I left a little early so rather than ride my bike, I walk.

Walking gives me the time to reflect on what I need to do. The diner pays decently, but I need more if I’m going to take care of my mother in the way she needs.

I’ve never seen her like this.

Barely alive. Losing her mate could have easily killed her, but she continued on despite her broken bond.

Hell, if I’m honest she’s been getting progressively worse since I was eight, but she hung on to her clarity for those last ten years to raise me. The medications she was on aided in that, I’m sure. The year before I turned twenty-one, she quit the bank she had been working at, and stopped leaving the apartment altogether.

And even though she was still there, it was like I was suddenly alone in the world. Especially because I had already lost Hayden.

She did her best. I know that, but the sting of knowing how much of my life she’s missing never fades.

Simply surviving isn’t living. Right now, that's all Mom is doing. And just barely. A gentle breeze could take her out at this point.

I have no choice, I have to do something before It’s too late for her. She needs professional help. More help than this diner can afford to pay me.

“Tatum! Hi, darling!” Bernice, the Beta who owns Mom’s Diner, greets me as I walk in.

I smile warmly at the sweet older woman and lean into her as she offers a hug. “Hey, Bernie.”

“How are you, Hun? How’s your mother?”

I’m putting my stuff away in the back room and putting my name tag on, as Bernie follows me around like a fluttering butterfly.

“My mom’s okay. I’m good.” I sigh, not ready to have this conversation, but now is as good of a time as any. “Can we talk?” As I turn to face her, she looks at me with worry scrunching her nose. This sucks. I feel like I’m letting her down, but I know I have to do this. She’ll understand.

“Is everything okay? You look stressed.” As a Beta, she’s not as sensitive to an Omega’s distress, but she’s not immune. I nod my head, offering her as much reassurance as I can, but at this moment, I’m not very sure myself.

“Mom needs some extra help, and I’m not enough anymore–”

“Oh, dear. Is this because of her medications?” Bernie steps into my bubble, placing one hand on my shoulder, and the other clutches at her own throat.

“It’s been a long time coming, honestly. She needs more help than I have to give, even with Meg. So, I need a second job.”

I wince as I speak, and her eyes go wide. I’ve worked here faithfully for years, and if I ever needed any extra cash, I would simply take on extra shifts. But after years of doing this, I know it won’t be enough, even if I worked 24/7. The customers that come through our doors just don’t tip enough.

“Oh, sweet Tatum,” Bernie coos, scooping me against her chest and holding me tight. Perfectly tight. This is a mom hug. The kind of hug that only a mom is capable of. I can feel the waves of comfort she’s desperately trying to send me.

This hug says everything words can’t. That she cares for me on a deeper level than a boss should.

Chef must see Bernie clutching me to her chest like I’m made of tissue paper and one sneeze away from falling apart.

“Tater-bug?” she asks as she rushes over, and the floodgates open at the sound of her nickname for me. Chef, also known as Linda, is Bernie’s wife. They’ve been married longer than I’ve been alive. I’ve tried to keep them at arms length over the years, but these two Betas are the most stubborn women I have ever known.

They hired me at sixteen, and then took me under their wings. Two mother hens.

I don’t know what made these women so insistent that I let them care for me in a way that clearly crosses employee and employer lines, but fuck, I’m grateful. They helped get me this far.

“Oh, hells, is this about the eggnog? I told you she’d be upset. Don’t worry, Tater-bug, we’ll get a shipment in a week,” Chef says in a soothing tone as she rubs circles across my back, while her wife lets me sob in her arms.

I chuckle, lifting my head so I can meet Chef’s eyes, and she winks. She knows I’m not crying because of delayed eggnog. But she also knows I probably don’t want to go into detail about it.

It takes me a couple of minutes to get my shit together, but when I do, Bernie leads me to the kitchen, since Chef abandoned Mac to finish cooking all the orders. Of course, Mac is a pro, and there wasn’t even a delay.

“I just need to fix my face, and then I’ll be ready to work.”

“If you’re sure. You can take the night off if you need to?” Chef offers.

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