Page 2 of Merry Mayhem
“Thank you, ma'am,” he says with a wide smile and a wave. “Have a good day, now.”
She gives him a tight-lipped smile, which is more than I've ever seen from her before, and then goes back inside, shutting the door behind her.
The boy quickly counts the bills and then slips them into his pocket. He makes his way back to me and offers to return the shovel.
“How many more houses are you planning to do?”
He seems a little surprised by my question. “All the houses on this street, if they'll let me. I'm charging $5 per house.”
Looking the way he points, I count the houses I can see. At least fifteen. Working by himself, it'll take this kid all day.
“Shouldn't you be in school?” The last few days have all been a blur of work, but I'm pretty sure it's not the weekend.
He shakes his head. “Naw. It's winter break.”
“So, what are you earning money for?” Curiosity makes me ask, and I almost wish I could take it back at the defensive look that settles on the kid's face. “Christmas presents?”
He pauses, looking over his shoulder at the old shovel he started out with. Finally, he returns his attention back to me. “Yeah.”
“For a girl?”
He shrugs, attempting nonchalance. “Maybe.”
“Well, I think you're undercharging for your services. I'll make you a deal.” When his eyes meet mine, I make him my offer. “I'll help you get all these houses done today, but only if you agree to raise your price. You've got to know your worth, kid. Never undercharge for a valuable service.”
He squints at me, like he's trying to decide if I'm serious or not. “And you still won't make me split the money with you?”
“I will not. So, what do you say? Partners?”
I hold my hand and wait, wondering if he'll agree to my deal. Finally, he reaches out and clasps my hand with his smaller one. “Partners.”
“Gotta tell me your name if we're going to be working together.”
He grins and we pick up our coats, then gather the shovels and start walking toward the next house in the line. “I'm Gavin.”
“Nice to meet you, Gavin. You can call me Cooke.”
2
GRETCHEN
I stopas I step inside the house, the silence putting me instantly on alert. Normally, there's noise from Gavin's video games or a movie he's watching. There have been so many nights I get home from work, wishing for a moment of quiet, only to be overwhelmed by the sheer noise that's part of raising an almost teenage boy.
And what I wouldn't give for even a little bit of that noise right now.
I throw my hat and gloves onto the couch, hurrying through the small rooms, turning on lights and calling out his name. Hearing nothing in return.
My breath starts to come in ragged pants as panic threatens, and I wish again that we had the money to buy him a phone. Just so I can get in touch with him instead of having to go hunting for him.
“Please, please, please,” I whisper to myself, barely holding back the first rush of tears. “Please let him be all right.”
I brace my hand against the casing of his bedroom door, looking for any hint of where he might have gone. He'd asked if we were going to spend the day together to start his schoolbreak, but I'd had the chance to take on an extra shift, which meant a little more money for our budget this month. A little extra that made buying Gavin a present more possible.
My pulse pounding in my ears, I almost miss the hint of sound coming from the front of the house. I stumble as I turn, catching myself against the wall, and almost faint when I hear the happy sound of Gavin's laugh. A sound I haven't heard often lately.
As I enter the living room, I'm stunned into stillness by the sight of my brother with a wide smile on his face as he shakes hands with a broad-shouldered man standing just inside the front door.
“Gretchen,” shrieks Gavin when he spots me. “This is Cooke. He knows all about business and finance, and he likes old muscle cars, too.”
