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Then she dug around in her bag again, withdrawing a plastic knife. When she’d been younger, she’d read the Harry Potter books voraciously. The tote she now carried reminded her of Hermione’s charmed bag in the final book, the one with a magic extender that allowed her to carry tents, books, pots and pans, and countless other things. Jess’s bag was the muggle equivalent, her version heavy as hell, containing very little that would actually help them.
Jess spread the peanut butter on the crackers, more thinly than she’d have liked, but she wanted to stretch it out. In the end, she was able to make five peanut butter cracker sandwiches. And despite her growling stomach, she gave them all to Jasper because he was a growing boy and she refused to take a single bite of food if she could keep him from going to sleep hungry tonight.
“You don’t want one?” Jasper asked.
She shook her head. “Nope. I had a big lunch. I’m still too full. Couldn’t eat another bite.” It was just a little white lie, and enough to convince her son, who shoved the crackers in his mouth like he’d never eaten before. She’d noticed lately that Jasper attacked his food like it might be his last meal, shoveling it in far too quickly. She’d told him countless times to slow down, but the words fell on deaf ears.
The same vise-like pressure that had been slowly crushing her since she’d come home from work to find the eviction notice taped to their door pressed down hard, and she found it difficult to take in a deep breath of air.
Something was going to have to give, but she didn’t have a clue what. She was terrified of going to social services. Her mother hadn’t been the world’s greatest. Before she finally managed to get sober for good, her mom had been a mean drunk who sometimes forgot to come home at night.
As a result, Jess had been shuffled in and out of the foster care system a handful of times when she wasn’t much older than Jasper, and the experience had stuck with her in a negative way. There was no way in hell she would ever let Jasper experience the bone-shaking fear of sleeping in a houseful of strangers, some of whom hadn’t been kind at all.
What if social services deemed her an unfit mom?
What if they took Jasper away from her?
The thought of spending a single night away from him made her physically ill.
But…would that be better forhim?
Was she being selfish, keeping him with her because of her own feelings?
He was cold and hungry and tired, and that washerfault. She’d failed him, failed them both, but she didn’t know what more she could do. She worked seven days a week, for minimum wage and tips, and she hadn’t taken a single day off for herself. Though, she’d missed one day last spring, when Jasper fell down at school and broke his arm. That was the day that had begun their downhill descent, as she’d started drowning in doctor and hospital bills, in addition to the rent and food and Jasper’s ever-growing feet, which seemed to need new shoes every time she turned around.
God. She hated feeling so helpless.
Time to get a grip.
Jess tried to shake off the heavy feelings.
Again.
This was just a bad night at the end of a bad day. They were going to get through tonight, and then tomorrow…she’d come up with a real plan. There had to be a place for women and children in the same position she and Jasper were in. It was time she stopped letting her fear of social services overwhelm her better judgment. She couldn’t keep waiting for a miracle that was never coming. She was an adult, and it was time to act like one, time to figure this shit out.
Tomorrow, she would put the time at the library to good use, researching options for homeless women and children in the city. And she would bite the bullet and seek help from social services.
She stifled a yawn and blinked a few times, her eyes dry from lack of sleep.
Jess turned off the car and got out to open the trunk. They were on a well-lit, quiet street, away from the heavier traffic of downtown. Her landlord had only given them thirty minutes to vacate their apartment, so she’d been forced to quickly shove everything she could into trash bags and lug them down to her car. The trunk had become their closet since then.
She grabbed three huge, overstuffed bags, carrying them to the back car door. Opening it, she put them onto the seat next to Jasper, then returned to the trunk to pull out a blanket and the comforter from the twin beds they’d had in their one-bedroom apartment.
Returning to the car, she quickly climbed back into the driver’s seat, kneeling on it and facing backwards so she could “cocoon” Jasper in a mountain of clothing that she prayed would keep him warm enough. In addition to that, she figured she had enough gas to run the heater ten minutes every hour until dawn, and still have enough to get to the motel for work in the morning. Hopefully, all of that would get them through the freezing-cold night.
She pushed Jasper’s booster seat onto the floor, then told him to add three more pairs of socks to his feet, something he found absolutely hilarious. She let his childlike laughter bolster her, help her to beat back the terror she felt, so that she could make him believe this truly was a great adventure instead of the actions of a desperate woman.
She threw another sweatshirt on over his head, then put his coat, hat, and gloves back on.
“Okay. Here.” She twisted around the back of the driver’s seat awkwardly, grabbing a pile of shirts. “Lay down on the seat and you can use these as your pillow.”
Jasper followed her instructions, though she wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion or excitement making him so compliant. Once he’d settled down comfortably, she picked up the comforter and tucked him in tightly. Thanks to the heater, the car was actually quite toasty—for now—but she knew it would be a different story when she was forced to turn the vehicle off to conserve gas.
He looked at her expectantly. After all, she had promised a tent.
“And now…for the rest.” With a flourish, she picked up one of the bags of clothing and dumped it on Jasper, prompting loud peals of laughter from her young son.
“Mommy!” he said between giggles. “This isn’t a tent.”
