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“I’m just saying. How hard would it be for you to bring me one day’s pay? I’m not asking for a million dollars.” I’m thinking that he could probably give away a million dollars, though, and still have money to spare.
“Friday,” Harrison says. “You can wait until then.”
It’s early Thursday morning, and I know that I can wait until tomorrow. But just the way that Harrison decides he knows my finances and how long I can or cannot wait annoys me. “Fine,” I say. “This Friday.”
Harrison doesn’t say anything, but a sudden hunger has hit me. I march into the kitchen and see that it’s not even six in the morning yet. By the time I grab some bread to make myself some toast, I turn around and find that Harrison is gone.
The living room feels emptier without him, but I push away that tiny feeling of missing him. What happened between us was purely physical, because his character as a human being is sorely lacking.
Still, at least he promised to pay me tomorrow. I can wait that long. I know I can. Hopefully, the creditors breathing down my neck feel the same way. I remember the woman’s hesitation on the phone as I promised to start a payment plan. But this time, I’ll keep it. I won’t miss a payment for anything.
Chapter ten
Harrison
I’m so annoyed after Breanna’s sudden request that I don’t feel tired anymore. I head to my shower instead and clean up after my long shift, turning her request over and over in my mind.
I remember how our conversation had ended. I’d said I would pay her on Friday, and she had insisted “this” Friday.
Well, I didn’t agree to that. I just walked out of the room.
Now, as I’m drying off and studying myself in the mirror, I can’t help it.
How desperate can she really be?
She can wait until next Friday.
And if she can’t, then I guess she can find another job that would pay her quickly. A lot of jobs don’t pay right away. It’s not ridiculous to pay her next week for this week and so on.
I hear Jaxon’s sleepy morning voice, and I decide to head down the hall to spend a few minutes with him before finally going to sleep.
I yawn as I pull on a comfy pair of plaid pajama pants and head toward Jaxon’s room.
He’s sitting up in his bed, singing a song about trucks and hard workers.
When Jaxon sees me, he lights up.
"Good morning, Daddy!" Jaxon's small voice rings out as I enter his room. His eyes sparkle with excitement, and his little hands gesture animatedly as he continues his impromptu morning serenade.
"Good morning, buddy," I reply, mustering a tired smile. Despite my annoyance and the lingering thoughts about Breanna's unexpected request for an early paycheck, Jaxon's infectious energy has a way of brightening even the most frustrating mornings.
I approach his bed, kneeling down to his eye level. "What's this song about today, buddy? I haven’t heard this one before."
Jaxon grins, his enthusiasm undiminished. "It's about trucks and hard workers! Just like you, Daddy! You work hard every day! Except when I grow up big like you," Jaxon stretches himself up high from his bed, but I’m still a few inches taller than him, “I’m going to work hard, but I’m not going to work at night, because that’s for sleeping.”
I chuckle, touched by his innocent adoration. "Well, I appreciate that, buddy. Trucks and hard workers, huh? Sounds like a good tune."
He nods vigorously, and I ruffle his unruly hair before redirecting his attention to the day ahead. "How about we get you some breakfast? What do you feel like eating this morning? I can eat breakfast with you, then you’ll have to play quietly with MIss Breanna while I sleep. I’m tired from all of that hard work.”
Jaxon’s eyes light up at the mention of food, and he gives an exaggerated thinking pose, tapping his chin with his tiny finger. "Hmm... pancakes!"
"Pancakes it is!" I reply, standing up and heading to the kitchen. Despite my earlier irritation, the prospect of spending a little bit of time with Jaxon helps ease the tension in my shoulders.
In the kitchen, I quickly find the frozen pancakes and heat them up. Jaxon watches with wide-eyed fascination, his anticipation growing with each passing moment.
As I set the plate of pancakes in front of him, I can't help but appreciate these small, ordinary moments that bring a sense of normalcy to our lives. I can hear Breanna in the downstairs bathroom.
Is she showering?
