“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
“I’ll give you the first…fifteen minutes free, but after that I’m gonna have to start charging you a stalker fee each day.”
“A stalker fee?” I repeat in disbelief.
“Think of it like rent. If you’re going to keep coming in here all grumpy, taking up space in my store, then I’m gonna need you to offset the loss of customers who see your sourpuss in the window and drive away to the gas station up the road. You know, the one that doesn’t have grumpy men lurking around all the time.”
“Fine. How much?” I ask.
“Twenty bucks an hour.”
“That’s robbery,” I tell him. “Ten bucks an hour, and I’ll spend at least twenty bucks while I’m here.”
“Deal. But you owe me back sourpuss rent for yesterday and the day before. As well as today.”
“Will you keep tabs on her for me when I’m not here?” I ask as I pull out my wallet and start counting out bills.
“It’ll cost you extra.”
“Whatever,” I huff, knowing what I’m doing is downright insane but unsure how the hell to make myself stop.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Naomi
* * *
“Lovely night tonight, isn’t it?” Greg, the gas station attendant, asks when I bring a gallon of milk and a Hershey bar up to the counter.
“Ah, yeah. Sure,” I reply, glad someone is in a good mood.
“Anything else for you?”
“I, ah, I need five dollars in gas on pump number three.”
“Why not fill her up tonight? It’s on the house,” he says with a grin.
“What?” I ask in confusion, tired after working twelve hours, my feet so swollen I can only shuffle them, not pick them up even an inch.
“You’re a valued customer; and to show how much I appreciate your business, tonight’s full tank of gas is on me.”
“Seriously? That’s like…twenty-five dollars’ worth.”
“It’s fine. Really.”
I stare at the kid and wait for him to tell me the catch.
Oh no.
Does he think I’m gonna screw him for a full tank of gas? Sure, I’ve had tough times, but I can’t imagine ever being that desperate. Not to mention that I promised myself I will never exchange sex for anything, especially money, after how badly everything went to hell with Malcolm.
Lowering my voice, I tell him, “I’m-I’m sorry, but I’m not gonna sleep with you for gasoline.”
“God no!” he exclaims. “I’m not trying to get myself murdered.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing,” he says in a rush. “The gas doesn’t come with any strings attached. Promise.”
“You’re sure?” I ask.
“Yep.”
“Well, um, that’s okay then I guess,” I reply.
Chuckling as he rings up my items, he says, “You’re a funny girl, Naomi.”
For a moment, I freeze when he says my name so familiarly. Then I remember I’m still in my uniform with my nametag, just like his.
“I appreciate your kindness, Greg.” I slide a five-dollar bill across the counter for my milk and candy bar before snatching the goods up, ready to get the hell out of here and get home to my bed. “Keep the change and, ah, have a good night.”
“You too!” he calls out as I hurry out of the store.
There’s something about my interaction with the gas station guy that I can’t shake the rest of the night. In fact, I’m still replaying our conversation the next morning.
“Hey, Nancy,” I say to my boss when my shift starts, and the breakfast crowd has thinned out. “Do you ever get gas from the place across the street?”
“Yeah, why?” she responds while tying her graying red hair up in a messy bun.
“Does Greg give you stuff for free?”
“Who’s Greg?”
“The guy who works there.”
“Oh. No. Why? Do you get shit for free?” she asks.
“Ah, well, yeah. Last night he gave me a full tank of gas when I bought milk and a candy bar.”
She eyes my belly. “Must be trying to get in your pregnant panties.”
“No, I don’t think that’s it at all,” I tell her. “He doesn’t even stare at my boobs.”
“Huh,” she mutters. “Only you would waste time worrying about why someone gave you something for free.”
“Yeah. It’s stupid,” I agree with a shake of my head. “Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Your daughter Beth is eighteen now, right?”
“Yeah. Why?” she asks with an arched red eyebrow.
“I was wondering, what are her plans when she graduates from school?”
“Nothing. Not a damn thing at the moment, no matter how many times I ask her,” she huffs.
“Oh, well, do you think she may be interested in being my nanny after the baby’s born?”
“Maybe. I could ask her. I’m guessing the pay would be shit?” she remarks with a grin.
“Less than shit,” I admit with a blush. “But she could come live with me, free room and board and meals if there’s food in the fridge and cabinets.”
“I’d pay you to get her out of my house. I’m tired of arguing with her over every little thing like who ate the last muffin or why isn’t her favorite pair of jeans washed when she just wore them yesterday!”
“That sounds…annoying. Still, I could put up with washing her clothes and buying her endless muffins if she could just keep an eye on the baby while I work at night.”
“So all she would have to do is get up with the brat if it starts crying in the middle of the night and you’ll be home during the day?”
“That’s my plan,” I agree. It’s not a great one; but with limited options, it’s the best I can come up with.
“I’ll talk to her and let you know.”
“Thanks, Nancy,” I tell her.
“Yeah, yeah. Who can say no to the sad woman who is eighty months pregnant?
“I’m only five months along!”
Eying my baby bump, she says, “Could’ve fooled me.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Malcolm
* * *
“What’s new?” I ask Greg when I waltz into the gas station one Friday afternoon before reporting to the boat.
“Apparently not your approach,” he replies with a grin. “It’s been, what, three months and you still haven’t gone to talk to her face to face?”
“I don’t need to talk to her,” I huff as I take up my usual position in front of the window. Lately, I just drop by for a few minutes, not letting myself stay too long because it’s not good for my mental health. Trying to abstain turned out to be even worse. “I’m just checking in to make sure she’s okay.”
“Does she look okay to you?” he asks as he leaves his post behind the counter to come stand beside me.