Page 12 of Reed

“Nothing, it just isn’t going to work out there. Look, can you take me or not?”

“Sure. Where is it?” Reed asks, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main highway.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Jacob calls from the backseat. I sigh. The teenage years are going to kill me because he is already eating me out of house and home. “I want nuggets,” he demands.

“You want nuggets, little man?” Reed asks, looking in the rearview mirror and smiling.

“Yeah.”

“Me too.” Caleb joins in.

I turn around to look at my boys. “Guys, we have nuggets at home. Mommy will make you some as soon as we get there.” I hate how their faces fall, and I pray Jacob won’t start crying again. But like every other time I have to tell him no, the tears start coming. “Oh baby, don’t cry. Mommy promises to get you nuggets next week.”

“I want Donald’s nuggets,” Jacob cries.

Sighing, I turn around, pull my bag up from the floor, and dig through the small pocket on the front until I find my wallet. I make sure to hide what I’m doing from Reed. I know the exact cost of two happy meals. I have thirty dollars in my wallet, which won’t cover cabs for the week. My insurance should cover the cost of the tow, but if it doesn’t, I don’t know what I’m going to do.

“Would you mind stopping by McDonald’s? It’s on the way. The apartment is behind Big Lots. Take the first right, and it’s the blue house on the left,” I say, pulling out a ten-dollar bill and shoving my wallet back in my bag. I will be fine walking for a little while.

The boys cheer in the background as Reed turns into McDonald’s. “I thought you said apartment, not a house,” Reed says, pulling into the drive-thru line.

“It’s an apartment above the garage.” I don’t miss how his hands tighten on the steering wheel or the way all his muscles seem to lock up.

We inch up until it’s our turn to order. “What do you want?” Reed asks.

“Nothing, I’m not hungry. The boys want a chicken nugget happy meal with extra fries and white milk,” I say, rattling off the only order I’ve ever put in here. The few times I can afford fast food, I only get food for the boys. Reed repeats what I said but adds a Big Mac and a Quarter Pounder. After he gets the total, he pulls forward. I hold out the money toward him. “Here, it’s for the boys’ meal.”

He ignores me and pulls out his wallet. “Keep your money. I got this.”

“No. They are my kids, and I will pay for their food.” I shove the money into his chest and watch it fall down, landing on his crotch.

“Ali, I’m not taking your money,” he says, picking up the ten-dollar bill and putting it on my lap.

“Reed—” I’m cut off when he leans across the console, ignoring the kid at the window waiting for our money, and pulls me close by the back of my neck.

“Fucking listen to me. I’m not taking your money. You’re mine now, which means they are mine, and I take care of what’s mine. So you will stop arguing with me and let me treat you like the queen you fucking are.” With his attention still on me, he hands his card out the window.

“Who said I was yours?” I can’t help but poke him. Hearing him call not only me but my boys his does something funny to my body. I feel like I’m submerged in a warm bath. I’ve always dreamed about someone swooping in and taking all my worries away, even though I knew it was unrealistic. A dream that I would never get.

“I did.” Reed releases me and takes his card back. I sit back and notice that the boys are unusually quiet. I look back to see them both staring at Reed with big, toothy smiles as if they understood everything he said. After handing me the bags, I start handing back a fry and nugget to each boy. I grab their sippy cups and pour the milk in them, then turn to sit them in their holders attached to their car seats.

“Want me to hand you food as you drive?” I ask, looking at Reed shyly.

“You want to feed me, Little One?” He smirks. My body heats as I think of another way I could feed him.

“I want you to focus on driving.”

“I can wait until we get home to eat. However, you should eat. One of those is for you,” he says after he stops laughing.

“I told you I wasn’t hungry.”

“And I don’t believe you.”

“Fine, if it makes you happy, I’ll eat when you do,” I say. I’m too busy handing the boys their food to notice that he drives straight past Big Lots until we are heading out of town. “Um… Reed, we were supposed to go look at that apartment.”

“You don’t need that apartment. Or any apartment anymore.” He turns down a gravel road and expertly avoids the potholes.

“Why don’t I need an apartment?” I ask, handing the boys their last nuggets.

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