“Yes, nicely done, Wyatt!”
The boy beamed at him. Jesus, the kids were definitely in need of some positive reinforcement. “Here, I found the toys. Do you want to come see?”
Wyatt slid off the couch, leaving banana in his wake, but Del couldn’t be bothered. Together, they took off the lid and went through some of the stuff inside.
There were old, partially filled coloring books, which interested Wyatt a bit. The ancient cars—some of them might’ve been Del’s, actually—were nice, but didn’t light Wyatt up.
Then, on the very bottom of the bin, were a couple of off-brand Barbie dolls. The way Wyatt’s whole expression changed into enthusiasm made tears well in Del’s eyes.
The boy clutched the brunette doll into his chest and closed his eyes, as if it was the happiest moment of his life.
Del grabbed a box with maybe ten pieces of Duplos and took them to Scarlett on the other side of the table. “Here, girlie. You can look at these while you watch the show.”
Her expression was happy and excited, too. And Del wiped the tears that fell down his cheeks.
“Del sad?”
His heart jumped as he looked at Wyatt, who was now clumsily brushing the doll’s hair with a tiny pink comb he’d found among the toys.
“No, not sad. Del is happy,” he replied, giving up his heart to these kids completely. 7
The “Help Wanted” sign outside the grocery store drew Justin in like a beacon. He’d just spent an hour at Eriksen’s, signing away money he didn’t have yet on a payment plan to get Mom cremated—the cheapest option, though he had no idea what the hell he was going to do with her ashes—and he was more conscious than ever that every day he was digging himself into a deeper financial hole. And even once the social security money came in for the kids it’d take more than that to raise them. He needed work.
The doors of the store rolled open and Justin moved aside to let a woman with a cart out, and then entered the store and approached the registers. He waited while an older woman with candy-pink lipstick on her wrinkled mouth served a customer, and then stepped forward.
“Hi,” he said.” The sign in the window says you’re looking for staff?”
The woman looked him up and down. “I’ll get the manager.”
She picked up the phone behind the counter, and Justin went and stood by the bulletin board on the wall. It was a mishmash of information. He read the flyers about payday loans, about essential oils and leggings, about the local community theater’s production of Guys and Dolls
He turned around when the manager approached him, and his heart sank. He remembered the manager, and he sure as hell hoped the manager didn’t remember him. He remembered sitting in the manager’s office, Mom spilling some sob story beside him about how she didn’t know how that pack of ham slices had ended up shoved down the back of Harper’s diaper. He remembered how he’d known, with a feeling of sick certainty, that she was going to try to blame him for it because he was just a kid. The manager had let them go in the end, but Justin had known he didn’t believe it was an accident. He just couldn’t be bothered call the police for a pack of ham.
The manager was a short little man with thick glasses. He looked at Justin with his head on a tilt and a slight smile on his face like he was trying to place him, and then held out his hand. “Bill Lurhman. You’re looking for work?”
“Yes, sir.” Justin shook his hand.
“You from around here?” the manager asked. “You look familiar.”
“I’m just back in town,” Justin said. “My name’s Justin. Justin O’Dwyer.”
He watched the manager’s expression shift into something closed off, all the warmth leaving his face. He’d seen it a thousand times before.
“I’m sorry,” the man said. “Sign’s out of date. We just hired someone last week.”
“Yeah,” Justin said, heat rising in his face. He glanced away and saw the cashier watching him, her pink mouth open. “Thanks anyway.”
He supposed, as he walked out of the supermarket, that at least the manager had been decent enough to lie to him and not tell him to his face that he wouldn’t hire a thief.
He drew a deep breath and headed back to where he’d parked Del’s car. Del felt like the only bright spot in his life at the moment. The only person who didn’t automatically look down on him like he was a piece of shit they’d stepped in and couldn’t wait to scrape him off the bottom of their shoe.