Page 2 of Ash
“Mom,” Wade pinches the bridge of his nose as if I am exhausting him. “Alice Cooper doesn’t want to sleep outside in that condemnable coop.”
“Hey now!” I gasp, taking offense. “I worked really hard on that coop!”
Wade sighs and shakes his head. “I know you did, Mom. And I appreciate you trying.” My heart stings as I watch him lovingly pet the stupid chicken. Wade has had zero reliable male figures in his life. There was only one man I had been with that I allowed near Wade, and that was Josh, my ex-husband. We were married eight months before I left and got an annulment. Then, about nine months ago, I was lonely and depressed after having surgery, and I was dumb enough to let the man back in for about a month. Which, in hindsight, was a terrible mistake.
“Come on,” I say softly as I turn around. “I think I’m supposed to feed you or something.”
Wade cracks the smallest of smiles, but it’s still a smile, before carrying Alice out of his room. We make our way down the worn stairs, avoiding the soft spot in the one in the middle before heading to the kitchen. Wade takes Alice outside to hercondemnable coopto feed her before we head on out.
I open the fridge and grab the milk and frown. It’s cool, but not cold. I open the door again, no light. Walking over to the light switch, I flip them and frown when none of them turn on.
“What the fuck?” I whisper.
“It’s the twenty-third.” Wade’s voice startles me, and I whip around.
“And?” I pant, trying to get my heart rate back down.
“And the shut-off notice said the twenty-third.” Anger surges through me as I slam the door to the fridge.
“That fucking bitch.” I growl under my breath as I turn from my son, not wanting him to see me as angry as I am. Fucking Peggy Gatliff, also known around here asMamaw,is my landlord. Slumlord would probably be a better term. I’ve hated having to live here, but after the bullshit I went through during the divorce and then allowing Josh back just to have him destroy my credit, this dump is the only place that would give me a chance. And it’s only supposed to be until I can get Wade and myself out of this godforsaken state. But this is too much. It was bad enough that the place is a hazard, but now she’s apparently not paying the bills with the cash I give her.
I run my hand over my face; I have my signing today to put my pole dancing studio up on the market and get out of that side of the dance world, finally. Once I have that check in my account, I am going to have to move me and Wade somewhere else until I can get everything set up in my home state of Alabama.
“How about donuts?” I ask him brightly and he beams–knowing that we are headed to the shop that treats him like a king.
* * *
Wade hopsoff the bus before reaching his hand up to help me down like the sweet gentleman he is. I grip his hand before stepping off the bus as I smile at my boy before leading him intoNuts About Dough,the little donut shop that one of my best friend’s works at.
Wade opens the door and I smile as I see Stevie working behind the counter. Stevie is adorable with her bright blue eyes, bluish-green hair, and the cutest dimple piercings.
Stevie smiles brightly, “Hey, guys!” Her thick Louisiana accent is a warm welcome to me. Being a transplant from the South as well, I often miss hearing the southern drawl, and while her accent isn’t the same as my Alabama grown one, it is enough to warm me up.
“Hey, Stevie,” I say as Wade and I walk to her counter. “Tell her what you want,” I say as I wait for Wade to pick out his donuts. He picks two and a bottle of milk. I tell him to go sit down and I’ll be there in a minute before turning back to Stevie.
“You know how I have that stupid pride thing that doesn’t allow me to ask for help?” I cringe as I look into her twinkling blue eyes. I hate asking for favors; it makes me physically ill.
“Oh my God!” Stevie leans over the counter and grins. “Finally! Tell me, what is it you need?”
“Can you get Wade to school down the street, in like, an hour? I gotta get to the studio. I’m meeting Ren there to go over the paperwork to put the place up. Then I have to start apartment hunting.” I watch her smile turn into a frown and disappointment washes over her.
“That’s it? I thought I was going to, like, I need to bury a body or something.”
“Who needs a body buried?” Stevie’s tiny grandmother, Nika, comes out from the back kitchen with a tray full of danishes.Ohhh, and there’s a cherry cream cheese one.
“No one, Baka!” Stevie rolls her eyes at the older woman.
“Good. I no raise you to bury the body. I say–svinjeStefa, always.” Nika holds a crooked finger up and shakes it at me. “You, too skinny. I hear the tummy over here. Stay put.” Before I can say anything, Nika shuffles into the kitchen.
“What the hell?” I laugh as Stevie shakes her head.
“She’s saying pigs. You give the pigs the dead… never mind.” I go to demand her to continue, but Nika comes back out holding a bag and a to-go cup.
“You take. On me. Eat! Grow some ass!” I snort at the old woman before I peek in the bag. Cherry and cream cheese danish. If she keeps giving me these and I stop teaching pole classes, I’ll definitely start filling out.
“Thank you,” I smile and then turn to Stevie. “And thank you for doing this for Wade. I really appreciate it.”
“No worries. Give me a hard one next time.” I wave goodbye before heading over to my son, who is working on his second donut. Kissing the top of his head, I bend down and move his school book from his face.
