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I bit my tongue. At least he tried. His answer, however, confirmed my suspicions. I ran a hand through my hair. I could buy the food for him, but what was he learning if I did that?
"How about this? You can work for me to earn it."
He cocked his head. "Doing what?"
"I'll work it out with your mom. Maybe you could come to my office on Saturday and spend some time doing some small chores."
"On a Saturday?"
Damn, this kid was getting on my nerves. "Yeah, on a Saturday. As in, you don't have school, so it works. Take it or leave it."
"Do you have to tell my mom?"
Yeah. That was a sticky point. I didn't believe in lying to her, but I knew what it was like to have a mom who was barely making ends meet. She didn't need more stress.
"We have to tell her something. It's up to you whether we tell her about what happened today, or you tell her you're working for me to help out. Either way, I'm your ride home."
"But that's like my only day off!"
I checked my watch. "Offer's up in ten seconds."
"But how long do I have to work?" He looked at the cart of groceries.
"Four seconds."
"Fiiinne."
I had to give him credit. He held out longer than some grown men I'd negotiated with in the past.
"Good decision. Welcome to manhood." I bit my tongue when he rolled his eyes again. I should have known better than to expect gratitude, I supposed.
We spent the next fifteen minutes walking up and down aisles. Micah surprised me. I expected him to go right for the chips and candy, but he thoughtfully selected items like pasta, rice, and spaghetti sauce. It was obvious the kid was picking out things that not only could he cook, but that would stretch a dollar. Nor was he greedy. I wasn't sure if he was trying to work fewer hours or if he was self-conscious of his situation. While he ran ahead of me, I threw in extras of everything he picked, plus a few he didn't.
I sent my mom a quick text that I was headed her way as we checked out. She responded with an unfamiliar address, followed by a message that she was still with Aunt Julie, whose car had started acting up. I was pick her up at the house which belonged to one of Julie's friends where they had stopped for a visit.
I glanced at Micah as I pulled the address up on my phone, only to find it was in the opposite direction of Micah's house. Given the extra time I'd already spent today, I didn't feel like driving back and forth so I could avoid Micah meeting my mom. I knew the general area of the neighborhood where I was headed. It wasn't far from Grace's church.
Grace. Just the thought of her name made my heart jump. What the hell was that about? Why couldn't I shake her from my thoughts?
As Micah and I walked to my car, I ran my hand over my upper left forearm. My shirt hid my secret, but I could still feel the familiar ridges that crisscrossed the skin. I didn't think of them as often as I used to, but I would still instinctively reach for them when I felt any kind of weakness exerting itself. They reminded me of what it was like to lose control. So craving Grace—all that had disaster written all over it. I'd pick up my mom, and while I was there, I'd cancel my dinner plans with Anne. I'd fought bigger battles than wanting Grace Hart. This would be no different. And we'd both be better off for my efforts.
"Wow!" I jerked my hand away at Micah's exclamation.
"This is an awesome car!" Micah ran his hand across the hood of my Challenger, his eyes gleaming in appreciation. "First generation, right?"
I nodded. "The very first. 1970. You like cars?"
"I like muscle cars. I like their power."
I paused to look at him as I opened my trunk. "Power is only as good as the person handling it."
He brought his bike over, and I placed it in the trunk, grateful it fit, so I didn't have to come back for it.
"You mean like my stepfather," he answered. His head hung low as he kicked at a pebble.
"Exactly." I tucked a couple of his grocery bags around his bike and turned to face him. "It's all about knowing when it's okay to open it up and when to throttle it back." Like dialing it back with Grace.
His eyebrows drew closer as he appeared to contemplate my words. He helped load the last of the groceries into my back seat.
