Page 10 of Hide and Sneak
It doesn’t take long for us to get our food. We’re only a few blocks from the hospital when Freddie speaks up again. “There’s where my mom works.” A glance back shows he’s pointing at the liquor store.
“Oh, that’s not a weed store, buddy.”
“Yes, it is. See the sign? I can read it. I sounded it out.” A large sign hangs from the front of the building bearing bright red capital letters.WE ID. Under it is a smaller banner that warns you must be twenty-one or over to enter.
I’m just going to let his mom explain that one.
Freddie perks up once we get to the hospital. He’s excited about riding the elevator, and begs to ride it again until I point out his mom waiting at the end of the hall. His desire to push the button again dissolves, and he rushes toward her.
“Hi Mama! Ms. Lila got me chicken nuggets and you some awful fries!” He holds up the bag like a trophy.
Colleen gives him a tired smile. “That’s great. I hope you said thank you.”
“I did. Where can I eat? I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving,” she teases, opening a nearby door to a tiny waiting room. “Sit at the table in here and don’t make a mess. I’ll be right in.”
She stays out in the hall with me. “Thank you so much for bringing him and getting his dinner. I don’t have cash on me but?—”
“Please don’t worry about paying me back. How is Kiera?”
“They just came out to tell me everything went fine. It was a bad break with a bone protruding which is why they needed tooperate so quickly. Her dad is on his way from Ohio and will be here in a few hours.”
“I’m so glad to hear it. Do you know how she broke it?”
“She was trying to do a flip off the jungle gym and landed badly. They say it’s boys that get hurt the most, but she’s my daredevil.”
We chat for a few more minutes before I go. It isn’t until I get back in my car that I see a text from Mrs. Thomas.
Trunchbull
Has Freddie been picked up?
Me
He’s with his mom, and I set the building alarm when I left. All good.
Her response is a thumbs up. There, problem solved.
CHAPTER 4
SUTTON
Lila getshome from work as I’m pulling garlic bread out of the oven. “Dinner’s ready,” I announce.
She pauses, her eyebrows rising. “You made dinner?”
“I threw a frozen lasagna and garlic bread in the oven. Does that count?”
“It keeps me from having to cook, so yes.” She moves her focus to Amos, who gets to his feet. He was sound asleep on the couch when I got home. “And what did you do all day?” The warning that it better involve the word application or job is clear in her tone.
“Don’t start lecturing me. I got a job at the distribution center in Hopkinsville. I start tomorrow.” He pulls a plate from the cabinet. “You aren’t going to make us eat at the table are you?”
She rolls her eyes at him. “I don’t care.”
Once we all have our plates of food, she takes hers to sit on the couch along with Amos while I sit at the bar that separates the kitchen from the living room. “What hours do you work?” she asks him.
“The late shift. Six to three in the morning.”
