I release a heavy breath and rinse the bowl. Shoving it onto the drying rack, I wipe my hands on my jeans and turn to her.
“I’ll see you in a few weeks after finals.”
I peck her on the cheek and start toward Bray who’s jumped up from the table. He shoots his arms around my waist, his head barely reaching my stomach. When’s this kid gonna grow? His dad must have been way shorter than mine. My smile for him feels more authentic as I return the hug and plant a kiss on his head.
“See you soon, little dude. You keep an eye on Mom, okay?”
He looks up at me, and I flinch at his watery eyes. “I will,” he says in a shaky voice. “Bye, Ash. I’ll miss you.”
At least someone will.
I clench my jaw and force myself to let go. After another unwanted hair-tousle, I start toward the living room—until bright red letters stop me in my tracks.
Heart racing, I grab the pile of papers on the counter and yank the offending page from the stack.
Mom lurches forward to confiscate it. “Oh that’s—”
I twist away and hold it out of reach, my blood going cold. “What’s this?”
She crosses her arms, clearly trying a new strategy now that she knows lying won’t work.
“It’s nothing. I’m taking care of it.”
“You’re taking care of it?”
“Ashton, please it’s—”
“What’s wrong?” a small voice asks.
We snap our attention to Braydon who’s staring at us with wide, scared eyes. Shit.
“Hey, bud. It’s nothing. Can you do me a huge favor and go look for my blue duffle bag in the closet? It’s probably buried so you’ll have to look really hard.” It’s not buried; it’s already in my truck, so he’ll be busy for a while.
He blinks in confusion, and I offer an encouraging nod. When he turns hesitantly and leaves the room, I spin back to Mom.
“Tell me what the hell is going on,” I say, shoving the notice at her. My stomach feels sick when I see two others peeking out from the pile.
“Like I said, it’s nothing,” she repeats, waving her hand.
“It’s an eviction notice!” I hiss.
She shrugs, and I could punch my hand through a wall right now.
“When were you going to tell me about this?”
“You don’t live here anymore. It’s none of your business.”
I wince and step back. “Really? You’re really saying that to me right now?”
Forcing in a deep breath, I swallow my hurt and anger. Bray needs me to stay calm. I drop the eviction notices on the counter and start sifting through the other bills and letters. My stomach rolls with each one, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. Mom looks on with a sullen expression, offering no resistance this time. Despite her earlier barb, she knows who runs this household and holds this family together.
When I get to a credit card bill in my name, my lungs seize in my chest.
“Mom…” My voice comes out cracked and scarred.
She doesn’t acknowledge me when I finally look up. “How…? I mean… What the fuck, Mom?!”
“Don’t curse in my house,” she quips, glaring at me in belated engagement.
“Oh, it’s your house? Not according to these,” I spit out, slamming the pile back on the counter. “In fact, nothing we have belongs to us, does it? When’s the last time you’ve actually paid a bill? It wasn’t enough that you trashed your own credit? You had to ruin mine too? Fuck!”
I run my hand through my hair as I pace the entrance to the kitchen. I can’t breathe with reality crashing down in a suffocating cloud.
“It’s fine, Ash. It’ll be fine. I’m figuring it out. Just go back to school and—”
“Don’t,” I fire back, turning on her. “Don’t you dare act like you’re giving me a choice.”
She looks down.
I close my eyes.
For ten seconds nothing exists in the silent darkness. No success. No failure. No dreams that can be crushed in an instant. No, it’s just a gnawing wave of panic that when I open my eyes it will be to watch my entire future collapsing around me.
“I’m sorry, Ashton,” she whispers, breaking my truce with the darkness.
CHAPTER ONE
Eight months later.
ASHTON
“Hey, Ashton, you have guests at table twelve,” Leah calls out as I move past, balancing the drinks for table ten.
“Great, thanks.” I toss her a smile that widens when she discreetly rubs her fingers together in a clear “money” gesture. Man, I hope so. I could use a decent tip tonight. To say it’s been slow for a Friday is an understatement.
After delivering the drinks and entering the orders for table ten, I plaster a warm smile on my face and head over to my new table.
“Good evening, ladies.”
A quick scan tells me Leah might be right. These twenty-somethings ooze money with their expensive clothing and manicured everything. Still, it’s the air of entitlement that gives me hope I might actually finish making rent tonight. Then again, I’ve also learned having money isn’t correlated with sharing money. Some of my best tips have come from customers who seemed even worse off than I am.
“Hello… Ashton,” one of them says, leaning forward to inspect my name badge.
I grin and pinch the plastic pin on my black uniform t-shirt.
“Hi, yes. I’m Ashton, and I’ll be serving you tonight. Would you—”
“Oh, we’re counting on that, cutie,” another interrupts with a flirtatious glint.
Stunned, I swallow my discomfort and try for a quick smile. “Okay, so would you like to start off with a drink? Our cocktail tonight is the Shelton Barn and Table Signature Margarita with—”
“Just a bottle of nineteen-eighty-five Deluca pinot noir, if you have it,” the first says with a snicker. They laugh at that, and I force a tight smile.
“We don’t, but you’ll find the full wine list on—”
“I’m kidding, Ashton. Of course you wouldn’t have vintage wines in a place like this.” She waves her hand around the restaurant with an air of disdain. “Lighten up, sweetie.”
Shit. So much for an easy tip.
I clench my fist behind my back, hoping my lips are still turned up in a pleasant arc. If this place is so beneath them, why are they here?
“We’ll all have the margaritas. That okay?” she asks her friends who nod in agreement.
“Great. I’ll get that in for you. Would you like—”
“Actually, I take that back.”
I pull in a long breath through my nose.
“Maybe I’ll have an appletini instead.”
“Okay.” I glance around the table to see if anyone else is changing their orders. No one moves. “Great, so—”
“Wait. Me too!” the third one says, exchanging a look with her friends before bursting into laughter. “Oh my god, you should see your face. You seriously need to relax. You’re too hot to look all old-man cranky.”
“Maybe he needs to get laid.”
“Oh, I’m so there for that.”