Page 109 of Working for the Mob

Best case scenario: it was someone I knew that wanted to chat. Worst case scenario: some randy simpleton who still hadn’t sobered up from a night of partying wanted to offer me a ride. I didn't want to deal with either right now.

I caught the headlights of the car out of the corner of my eye and the automobile inched forward in pace with me.

“Need a ride, sugar?” a country drawl called out. A female drawl.

Surprised, I turned my head to see the blonde curls of Cecilia McKnowlton.

“Cissy,” I said, over the roar of the engine. “You can drive?”

“Of course I can. It's not that much different than driving a tractor,” she said. She must have seen my confused face because she added, “I grew up on a farm and still help out from time to time.”

Everyone in this town grew up on a farm.

“Which way are you headed?” She asked.

I didn’t feel like telling her. I couldn’t think of a lie either.

“The train station,” I admitted.

“That's on my way to the hospital,” she said. “I’m on my way to go see Jamie. Hop in.“

I didn’t feel like being around anyone at the moment. I wasn’t in the mood for Cissy’s bubbly personality. I didn’t even know if I could hold it together for the entire car ride. I’m sure she’d have questions about my bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

“I could use the walk,” and tried to force a halfhearted smile.

“Sugar, if you keep it up, you’re going to walk all the meat off your bones and there won’t be anything to hold onto anymore. Get in.”

I cursed under my breath. She wouldn’t leave me alone unless I got in her car. At least I’d be able to get the next train.

“Alright, fine,” I said, as graciously as I could manage, and I got in her car.

Cissy drove away with a dust cloud behind us.

“Where are you going on a train this early?” she asked, unaware it was a loaded question.

“Back to the city,” I said. I didn’t want to say why.

“Going home?”

“Yep.” She didn’t need any more information.

“Jamie’s coming home today, too,” she said and watched my reaction out of the corner of her eye. “He’ll still be bedridden, but I’ll be able to take care of him at home. And I won’t have to keep driving to Turnersville every day.”

My dead heart flopped in my chest. I almost smiled.

“Cissy, that’s wonderful,” I said. Hopefully he’d be able to return to the café soon. Someone would need to run it and keep an eye on Lucy.

“We’re excited. I’ve got the bed set up for him so he can sit up and Art paid to have railings installed in every room so he can walk. Once he’s up to it. The doctor’s say it shouldn't be too long.”

The mention of Art’s name sent a pang through chest. Of course, he’d pay for Jamie’s railings. That’s what he did. Sprinkled his money over every problem. When he needed something fixed, he just jammed a handful of cash down its throat.

“When do you think he’ll return back to work?” I asked, and tried not to look too interested in the answer. The café was going to be manager-less until he did.

Cissy took a deep breath to buy her time before she answered. “It’ll be a while,” she said, in a broken voice. After another unsteady breath, she continued, “We’re not sure if he’ll ever be able to go back. There’s a lot of standing at the café.”

“I’m sure it’d be alright if he works from a chair and has someone around to help him out,” I said.

Cissy shrugged. “We’ll see. We’re not worried about getting back. Art said he’ll take care of everything. He’s been great about the whole thing.”

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