| |
The red neon light for the motel was going bad. It buzzed and blinked all night long, turning my dingy two-bedroom room into a disco party. Tyler had danced himself into exhaustion, but then, that kid could sleep through anything. It was a blessing that he’d been a quiet baby, or I probably would have fallen apart. While I couldn’t even begin to imagine my life without him, the circumstances of his birth hadn’t exactly been the highlight of my life.
When morning came, I dragged my exhausted, sweaty self out of bed and into the shower. The water was as cold as the air was hot, but even the lack of hot water and air conditioning wasn’t enough for me to try to find somewhere else to live. With my budget, the fact that the place was relatively bug-free and came with a mini-kitchen was more than I could ask for.
“Baby, are you up?” I called out as I brushed my wet, strawberry-blonde hair into a ponytail. With a four-year-old son to chase after and very little money, I didn’t bother with make-up. It’d simply melt off anyway. I’d made my way to California thinking I could raise my son in warm and sunny climates, but Las Pameros was mostly desert, and the sun baked everything in its path.
“Momma, did you get some blueberry Pop-Tarts? I think I’d like some blueberry Pop-Tarts.” My ever-so polite son rubbed his eyes as he walked into the bathroom and stared at me. With his blue eyes and blond hair, he was almost the spitting image of his father.
Pretending to think it over, I narrowed my eyes and studied him. “If I remember correctly, I told you yesterday that I would only get some blueberry Pop-Tarts if you could recite the information that I gave you.”
“My name is Tyler Garner Dennings. My mother’s name is Juliette Christie Dennings. I am four years old.” He went on to correctly announce his address and the new phone number that I’d given him to memorize since I’d lost my phone three days ago and had to get a new one. My stomach twisted as he correctly recited the number for the local police and went over the stranger danger rules. In a year, he would be five, and I’d have a decision to make. It wasn’t fair to keep moving him around when he started school, but it was also dangerous to stay in one place as well.
My kid was smart, and I wasn’t just being a biased mother. He picked up things quickly, and he absorbed everything around him. It was almost a little terrifying.
Stumbling over a few of the numbers, he righted himself and looked at me with hopeful eyes. “Well,” I declared loudly. “I think that might get you two blueberry Pop-Tarts!”
“Two!” His eyes shined with excitement, and I nodded my head as he skipped from my bathroom into the kitchen. It was a good thing that he was already ready because I was running late.
Pulling on a pair of jean shorts and a button-up plaid top, I slipped my sunglasses on my face and grabbed my things. My only friend and pretty much savior, Crystal, lived two doors down. Crystal didn’t have any kids, but she worked out of her motel room and was more than happy to keep an eye on Tyler for me while I was at work. There was some sort of unspoken rule around here about not asking people why they’d ended up at the Sunny Side Up Motel, so I never asked Crystal her story, and she never asked me mine, but I’d felt obliged to give her some details. She did look after my son, and there was always the slightest chance that his father might turn up.
Crystal was about my age, twenty-seven, with the perfect body and a gorgeous face. I couldn’t help but sigh with a little jealousy when she opened the door and her perfect rack bounced ever so slightly when she bent to give Tyler a hug. While I had those childbearing hips and an ass that I still claimed carried some baby-weight, my tits were pretty small.
Not like there was a damn thing I could do about it.
“Are you giving me half of your blueberry tart?” Crystal gasped as she accepted the gift. “Well, that’s so sweet. You must know that I have something special planned for lunch.”
“What’s that?’ Tyler asked while I whipped out my phone and connected with Crystal’s Wi-Fi. The motel internet was a joke, and Crystal had her own separate connection that she let me use.
“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise!” Crystal looked up expectantly. “Long day ahead of you?”
I knew that she thought my job was weird, and the truth was that I knew it was a little strange myself. I needed a cash-under-the-table kind of job, and I found it when I’d answered an ad for someone to run errands. By errands, my boss basically wanted to pay me a sliver of what she made to do her job. Darleen Mason was the personal assistant for the sinfully wealthy and handsome Graham Porter, but it was obvious that Darleen wasn’t as interested in the work as she was the man. So while Mr. Porter paid her to keep his personal life organized, I was the one actually doing the work.
The truth was that it was a helluva lot better than some of the other jobs I’d done in the past, and Darleen never missed a payment.
“It looks like Darleen’s boss has a birthday coming up.” I’d signed a non-disclosure agreement, so I wasn’t allowed to say who I was working for, but Crystal knew that it was some bigwig. “I have to pick up a present for him.”
Crystal pursed her lips in disapproval. “I keep telling you, Julie. Something doesn’t smell right about this job. How do you know you’re not working for some mobster or drug kingpin?”
“You should be a writer,” I laughed. “I’m fairly certain that isn’t the case because things like that don’t happen to me. Tyler, baby, I’ve got to run. Come give me some sugar.” As always, when I left him, my emotions ran a little high, and my old Texas twang showed its ugly head. I’d worked hard to keep that accent down, but it popped up far more often than I would have liked.
My perfect son ran into my arms and gave me a big kiss on my cheek. I held him tight and inhaled deeply into his hair. He was the reason that I still breathed, and the reason that I was even doing all of this.
“Crystal says she’s got something special for lunch,” he whispered in my ear. “Last time she did that, we got McDonalds!”
God help me when things like McDonalds thrilled my son. I let him go and paid Crystal for the day. The damn sign for the motel was still buzzing and blinking as I started my piece-of-crap car and drove to the boutique shops on Quarter and Main.
When I first started working for her, Darleen had given me a credit card to authorize expenses. I worried that someone would ask to see some identification, but it would seem that all the employers on the strip knew Darleen by heart and were told that I wielded her card. I hated using it. While Darleen had given me a job and paid me on a regular basis, that woman had a mean streak a mile wide. She threatened hell on earth if I ever used the card for personal reasons or if I ever told her boss what was really happening. When we did meet, the woman did nothing by criticize me up and down, but I tried not to mind. After all, I wasn’t doing this for me.
I was doing it for Tyler.
Stepping into Matheson and Sons, the curio shop, my eyes immediately landed on a gorgeous wooden model ship that was encased in glass. The raw beauty of the ship spoke of someone’s love and expert craftsmanship. It was unique, and it’d make a perfect ship for Mr. Porter. Generations ago, his family had made billions off the shipping industry, and while they had their hands in different pies now, I knew from my research that Graham Porter had a thing for ships.
“My nephew carved that,” a gravelly voice said with pride. “His father would rather him be a lawyer, but it’s rare to see that kind of talent these days. If you’re interested, we can personalize the ship with a name of your choice.”
“Your nephew has a gift,” I said with a small smile. There was a time when I loved to be out on the water in a sailboat or kayak, but those days were long gone. “I’m actually here to pick up something that you’re holding for Darleen Mason?”
The hope vanished from the man’s face, and I immediately felt bad. The ship was out of place in a shop like this, and I gathered the man was having a hard time selling it. Moving slowly, the owner rounded the desk and reached under to pull out a box. When I opened it an peered inside, I immediately grimaced.
Nestled inside was the most god-awful looking statue I had ever seen. It was two lovers wrapped around each other and dipped in gold paint. If she gave that to Graham Porter, she might lose her job, and then I’d lose mine.
At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself when I made the order to have Porter Shipping personalized on the carved model ship and returned the statue. The truth was that Darleen would never know until it was too late, and then she’d never admit that the ship wasn’t her idea when she saw how happy it made her boss.
Maybe she’d even give me a raise.
I finished the errands and rearranging Mr. Porter’s schedule, and the gift was ready just before the store closed. I paid for the gift-wrap and headed home. Maybe tonight, the damn sign would be out completely, and I’d be able to get some sleep.
