Page 10 of The Disputed Legacy
5
WILLOW
Nothing was perfect about the results of our apartment, but I was over the moon when Oscar and I resumed a more normal situation at home. The landlord would still be cheap and sleazy, trying to cut any corner he could with the flooding incident that happened. But we were back in our place. The cleanup process would take a while. It would take even longer to replace all that we’d lost.
But we were “home”. As home as we’d ever be.
It felt good to be back at our apartment, but getting back to our normal routine would have to wait. During the school year, I took Oscar to school then hurried to Tiny’s for my shift. Then the bus driver would drop him off near the diner and he’d sit there in the back or off to the side until I was done working. Simply put, I couldn’t afford an after-school program or babysitter. And I wouldn’t be able to trust either.
Oscar never complained, and it was usually slower by the time he showed up so I’d have slow spells where I could give him my attention. Our setup wasn’t ideal, but it was the best I could do. Each time that he came and could wait for me to be done working, I was again grateful that the owners and managerswere more or less okay with his being here. So long as he didn’t get in the way—which he never did—they didn’t care if he sat there at an empty booth or in the back near Margo.
Unfortunately, though, I had to work longer hours, even up until closing. The lost time from the flooded apartment really set me back on bills and necessities, so instead of Oscar hanging around here for a few hours at the most, he was stuck waiting until past his bedtime for my shift to end.
Tonight, he was in good company. Raul, one of the cooks who didn’t care for Keith’s bullshit, was working. Because it had slowed down, Raul stepped out of the kitchen to sit with Oscar. I wasn’t all that sure what Raul’s background was, but Margo seemed to think he used to be a teacher. I could believe it, because every time I glanced over at the grizzly old cook and my son, they were focused on his math homework, like a tutor and student hard at work.
After the hectic week and the long day of putting in all the hours I could, I was thankful for the slow pace of the night. If I could just make it until closing time, it’d be all right. Oscar and I would walk home and drop right into our beds, straight to sleep.
“Willow?”
I glanced up from wiping the counter area where we stocked straws and napkins. Irene approached with a sweet, hopeful smile, and I dreaded the chance that she might be asking me to stay for the rest of her shift. It was that kind of a deceiving, wheedling expression of optimism, and it seemed like a given that she was sashaying her way toward me to get something from me. She was the closer, which meant she’d be the last one out, whereas I would be able to go before her.
“What’s up?” I asked, pausing in my cleaning. It didn’t really need it, but I didn’t like being idle. It made the shift go by so much slower.
“I was hoping you’d do me a favor…”
I knew it.
She grinned, showing me that she had, in fact, gotten her “touch-ups.” Her lips were fuller. Her brows were more pencil-thin and neat. And I wasn’t sure what she did to her cheeks, but they looked, uh, tended to cosmetically.
“Such as?” I asked, making her work for it. There was no chance in hell I’d take her shift tonight, but I’d make her ask me anyway.
“Well, I was hoping you’d head over to table five and sit down to have a little impromptu date with my friend’s friend.” She leaned to the side and jerked her thumb over her shoulder as she smiled wider.
I groaned. “Irene… Not again.” Unable to help myself, I slanted to the side to peek at this man she had clearly brought here as a little date.
“I wanted to try and see if you two might hit it off,” she insisted, not learning her first lesson a year ago about why it was always a bad idea to play matchmaker.
“We won’t.” I shook my head at the tall blond who sat and tapped his foot, making his knee bounce.
“Why not?” She pouted, disappointed and not afraid to show it. “He’s not your type?”
I snorted a wry laugh. “My type? I don’t have one.”
No man would pass with me. I wasn’t looking to date anyone, matchmade or not.
“Then maybe he could be your type. I hate how single and lonely you are all the time.”
“I’m not alone.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay. True. You’ve got Oscar. But he’s your kid. I mean lonely for a man. It’s been how long now since you’ve had a date or boyfriend?”
Forever.
I couldn’t tell her that, but it was the truth. I’d never been on an actual date. Never had a boyfriend.
“And Jayden is looking for someone too.”
I shook my head, hating to disappoint her, or anyone else, but this really wouldn’t go anywhere. “Listen, it’s sweet of you to think of me, but I’m not interested.”
