Folk Around and Find Out (Good Folk: Modern Folktales #2)(29)
What I did have were little people who needed me and who were obviously not receiving enough of my attention at home.
Frankenstein and beans! Get yourself together, Charlotte.
Making a firm mental note in all capital letters, I resolved to give Sonya more hugs and to find more time to listen to Joshua talk about topics that mattered to him. I would also figure out how to get Kimmy more time at the pool, and I’d enroll Frankie in that preschool community theater camp as soon as I finished paying off the new water heater and AC system installed at the beginning of the summer.
I would help my cousin and I would do my best to sort out Hank’s jumbled mess of a financial system during the next week, but then I had to give him my two weeks’ notice. I needed to do better. I needed to be more present. I did not need more demands on my time and attention. Squaring my shoulders, I sucked in a bracing breath and crossed to Sonya and Joshua with measured steps.
Hank caught sight of me first, his eyes doing a double take at my approach. I didn’t allow myself to guess as to why. My days of trying to read the male mind were at an end, so I avoided Hank’s gaze, focusing instead on my children and the lingering lead weight in my chest.
“Hey, y’all,” I interrupted as Joshua paused to take a breath. “Time for dinner.”
Sonya turned her head and reached her hand out toward me. “Can’t we eat in here, Momma?”
“No, baby. We’re going to eat real fast and then go.” I caught sight of a pile of used tissues on the corner of the coffee table and grabbed them. “Say thank you to Mr. Weller and then come on with me.”
Joshua grumbled something I didn’t hear and then turned back to Hank. “It was really nice talking with you. If you have any more questions about international banks or central monetary policy, let my mom know.”
“Thanks, Joshua. I will.” Hank helped Sonya climb off his lap and gave both kids a smile I’d never seen on his face before. It looked gentle and warm and it made my throat catch and my eyes sting.
This involuntary physical reaction always occurred when someone took the time to be kind to one of my kids or went out of their way to make one of them feel special. Being a single parent was often lonely and difficult and overwhelming and draining, but what frustrated me the most was the sense that I was the only person in the world who understood and appreciated how special these four humans were. Except for the odd occasion of an overworked teacher really taking the time, or another parent noticing and offering praise, it was solely up to me to make them feel and understand their immense value.
I’d never expected any such thing, any such kindness, from Hank Weller.
While I was distracted by confusion and my emotions, Sonya reached out and cupped Hank’s face, her hand stroking his cheek. “Goodbye,” she said, and I wasn’t certain if she was talking to him or his beard.
“Goodbye, Sonya Marie.” He captured her hand and kissed the back of it. “You take good care of your momma.”
I almost choked at that.
But then Joshua said, “You should come over and play sometime. I have a lot of maps,” and my brain snapped out of its stupor.
Hank’s sharp eyes jumped to mine and I jolted, both of us talking over each other.
He said, “Well, now, perhaps if your mom is—”
And I said, “Mr. Weller is exceedingly busy and barely has any time to play.”
Joshua looked between the two of us, his eyebrows furrowed, and Sonya gasped.
“Oh no! No time to play?” She looked over at Hank with sympathy, her bottom lip protruding. “That’s so sad.”
Reaching down, I picked her up before she tried to sit on his lap again and comfort him. Sonya was forever trying to comfort everybody. “That’s what happens when you’re an adult. Less time to play. It’s the way it is.”
“Unless you have kids,” Sonya said, cupping my face with the same hand she’d pressed to Hank’s jaw and sliding her nose against mine. She was such a lover. “You get to play with us all the time, Momma.”
“That’s right. Unless you have kids, and Hank has no kids, so . . .” I cleared my throat, unsure where I was going with that train of thought, especially since it wasn’t true and it didn’t matter. Plenty of adults without kids played all the time. Before more nonsense left my mouth, I said firmly, “Now, let’s go. Thank you and goodbye, Mr. Weller.”
With a hurried smile but without quite meeting Hank’s eyes, I grabbed Joshua’s hand and marched us into the kitchen, heat climbing up the back of my neck as I went. But I refused to surrender to embarrassment. I would do more, be a better mother so that Sonya didn’t feel the need to cuddle up on the first open lap she spotted and Joshua didn’t feel so starved for engaging conversation that he bent the first random ear he found. That’s what needed to be done and so I would do it.
And under no circumstances would Hank Weller ever be invited over to play, nor would I be continuing at The Pony.
Talk about a wake-up call.
Since I’d been allowed to unilaterally define my self-explanatory shift hours, I decided to arrive at The Pony between 2:00 PM and 3:00 PM Wednesday through Sunday and leave between 10:00 PM and 11:00 PM for the remainder of my time working at the club. One full work week should allow me to accomplish everything necessary, including locating my cousin, the set up of FastFinance, the import and categorization of last year’s numbers, and the automation of payroll such that I wouldn’t be leaving Hank or anyone else in a lurch.