It was tough going at first because Mom had been a complete mess as she tried to adjust to her new normal as well as sort through the wreckage that had been our lives. It took months before she felt confident enough to even leave the premises. She was always on the lookout—and truth be told, so was I—thinking Dad might show up and drag her back with him. Sometimes I’d go out of my mind with worry from a simple grocery-store trip. I was determined no one would hurt her again.
I barely sat down at the table before I tucked a bite of sandwich in my cheek. I guzzled down the soda I’d purchased from the vending machine near the lounge, which only consisted of a couple of chairs and some magazines on a table. Most customers didn’t wait for their cars to be serviced, and I could see why; the place definitely needed sprucing up.
Had I not started working at the garage when I was fifteen, I would’ve never had enough money saved to get Mom and myself out of that house. Dad had discovered Mom’s secret stash weeks before I turned eighteen, almost thwarting our plans.
This garage was all I knew, and I was lucky that I enjoyed working on cars so much. I worked hard, and life was pretty decent, considering where I came from. Tucker’s dad had handed over the shop to his son two years ago, and when Tucker asked if I’d go into business with him, I was grateful. And when I bought the sweet little A-frame house we lived in now, it finally felt more like a home.
Mom, on the other hand, never had the opportunity to have any big ideas for herself, so I encouraged her to spread her wings. Eventually she got back on her feet, and after working part-time retail jobs, she took classes and became a certified nursing assistant last fall. And now that she had a steady job at Rose City Assisted Living, she’d been talking a lot about getting a place of her own. She wanted to live in a high-rise with security at the door, and I totally got it, but it still made me anxious as hell.
“Hey, when’s your mom gonna bake those awesome cookies for us again?” Tad said around a mouthful of pretzels.
“Yeah, those were awesome,” Brett agreed.
“Better yet, give Tad the recipe, and he can make them for all of us,” Mia quipped as she left the room. Tad watched her go, but he’d never admit he had it bad for Mia. She had a nice figure, a pretty face, and was cool as hell, but she’d probably never give him the time of day. Except stranger things had happened. Besides, Tad was all talk but had a good heart, or else we wouldn’t have hired him. Plus, his specialty was rebuilding carburetors, and he brought in plenty of business.
“She’s got a point,” Brett said. “Do you even do any cooking at your place?”
“Hell, no,” Tad replied. “Just got a refrigerator full of them frozen dinners.”
“No wonder your gut is catching up,” Tucker said, and Tad flipped him off.
The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur. We were typically busy as hell during the summer months, likely because families took plenty of road trips and their cars were always in need of maintenance. But Christ, I’d seen my fill of minivans this week, that was for sure.
By the time I got home, I was greasy, sweaty, and needed a shower pronto.
Mom was in the kitchen making dinner, something she enjoyed doing—as well as baking—which Tad had become a fan of. And he was right; her cookies were the best. But after we left Dad, I didn’t want her to feel obligated to me the way she was to him, especially since I wasn’t a kid anymore. So I’d handled everything at first, the shopping and bills and chores, until one day she took over the meals, and we fell into a routine that suited us both.
I waved on my way to the bathroom before stopping short. Her lips were a rosy red, her cheeks a soft pink, and it took me by surprise since she never wore makeup. “What’s the occasion?” I stepped closer, and noticed how her eyelashes stood out as well.
“Huh?” When I motioned to her face, she said, “Oh, it’s nothing. Got some tips yesterday and thought I’d try them out. Remember the sweet guy I told you about who plays the piano at the center? He does the residents’ makeup too, for fun.”
“Well, it looks good, Ma. Understated and pretty.”
She blushed, and my heart squeezed a little. She never did anything for herself, so it was nice to see her trying something new. That job had done wonders for her self-confidence. Who knew working with the elderly in an assisted living facility would give her the boost she needed? And the way she’d described this guy who showed up and entertained the residents, it sounded like maybe it was a fun work environment too. But what did I know? I was stuck with a bunch of guys who burped five times in a row for laughs.
“Hope you don’t mind, but I invited him to a home-cooked meal on Friday,” she said in a hesitant tone. “He lives alone, his mom is way across the country, and I thought maybe he could use some company.”
“Seriously?” My head whipped in her direction. It was huge for Mom to feel comfortable enough to invite someone over, so she must really like the guy. Though I couldn’t help being a bit suspicious about him, especially when it came to my mom. About what exactly, I wasn’t sure, but her having new friends was something I needed to get used to. Dad had taken so much of that away from her. “That’s…cool.”
“You don’t have to join us, but I hope you will.”
“Sure.” Oh, I was definitely going to be around, just in case. Couldn’t help myself.
“I think you guys could be friends.”
I hid my eye roll. Like I needed any more friends. Though maybe I did. Outside of the guys at work, my other good friend, Mark, was a trucker, always on the road and also had a family, so we rarely got together.
After I showered and tried to scrub most of the grease from beneath my fingernails, we ate a simple pasta dinner. Mom was a good cook, and I tried to help whenever I could, at least with the cleanup, because I didn’t want her to think she had to feed me. But every time I brought it up, she’d say that she was still my mom and that she wanted to take care of me for a change.
“Busy today?” she asked as she passed the basket of rolls.
“Yeah, lots of oil changes and a couple of tune-ups.” I reached for my butter knife.
“How’s Mia?” Mom tried to act nonchalant about the question, but I knew where she was going with it.
“Ma, seriously?” I smirked. “You’re not obvious or anything.” She was always pushing me to date, and I had over the years, or had one-offs when I was feeling hard up, but nobody ever really stuck for more than a couple of months. I knew she hoped to dote on grandchildren someday, but that wasn’t something I ever considered, not after the childhood I had. I knew that wasn’t fair, but Christ, I was only twenty-four and didn’t need any distractions right now. I didn’t tell her that, though, because I didn’t want to bum her out. “You’re as bad as the guys.”
They were always talking about this or that hot piece of ass and always got on me for never adding to the conversation. But I wasn’t one to kiss and tell. I liked to keep those sorts of things private.
They’d pop a blood vessel if they knew I’d sometimes found certain men attractive over the years and even jerked off once or twice thinking about it. That was the extent of it, though. Strictly fantasies. Hell, I wouldn’t even know where to start with a man, but it was definitely not something those guys would ever understand. Not sure Mom would either, but I knew she’d never turn me away. Not like my dad would’ve. Bastard.