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“I can guess.” He paused. “I’ve seen how you manage the crowd here. I know you’re in charge of ordering supplies and making the schedules. You’re a bright young woman. I think you’ll do fine.”
“Seriously, Mr. Layton. I am truly speechless.”
Tori could not believe her luck. A regular job in a regular office, with regular people.
“I’ve been coming here every Friday night for years. You are always kind and efficient. With Dorothy leaving, I really need someone to keep me and Robert in line. We can’t be trusted on our own.” He let out a guffaw.
“I don’t know anything about working in an office,” Tori responded.
“You’ll learn. Besides, most of our clients are regular people who need wills drawn, real-estate closings, a few divorces, and a little estate planning. And I use that term lightly. It’s not as if we have a lot of estates in this area. The bigger money is closer to Asheville, but it’s a good, decent practice, and I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it soon enough.”
Tori was truly taken aback by his offer. “Can I talk it over with my husband?”
“Of course. The hours are ten to four Monday through Friday. No weekends, no evenings. The salary is twenty dollars per hour.”
“Are you sure you’re not a salesman?” Tori joked.
George Layton laughed. “I was when I was in law school! You think about it and give me a call. The sooner the better. Dorothy is leaving at the end of the month, and I’d like her to be able to show you the ropes.” He handed her his business card. “Please. Think about your little boy. You’ll have more time with him. My only concern is that if I steal you from this place, they may start spitting in my food!” Both let out a big cackle, causing other guests to turn their heads.
Tori took the card and tapped it in her hand. “I will certainly think about it.” But she knew she was going to accept. She just had to run it past her husband first. Heaven forbid she make a decision without him.
It had been a no-brainer. The money and the hours were so much better than the grind of being a mom and housewife all day, then being a hostess at the busiest restaurant four nights a week. When she told her husband about the offer, he had a mixed reaction. The money was a great incentive, but it would put Tori in front of an entirely different situation. He liked the way things were. Predictable. It was a reaction from when he was in his teens and his entire life was chaos.
Tori remembered the feeling she had when she accepted the job. Elation. And for some odd reason, she was feeling that same emotion now. She rested a hand on her belly. Maybe itwasher hormones.
As the water became tepid, she decided it was time to dry off and make a cup of tea. She wondered how long she could keep her pregnancy a secret. Another month, perhaps.
Over the past twelve years, she had learned a lot at Layton and Bellows, Attorneys-at-Law. If the office was quiet, she would read articles from various law journals. Some of it was way over her head, but she never hesitated to ask questions. Both partners appreciated her interest and encouraged her. Even though she had no illusion of going to college, let alone law school, she was a quick study and was especially interested in family law. One particular article about grandparents’ visitation rights was startling. She couldn’t imagine having to go to a lawyer to see your own grandchild. Not that it mattered in her life. Brendon would never know his maternal grandmother or grandfather, and his paternal grandparents were MIA. For two people to have so much in common, it was a mystery how they had grown so far apart. She would feel bad for Brendon not having grandparents, but in the case of her parents and her in-laws, he was much better off.
She also felt bad that he had no siblings. Not yet anyway. But it would have been nice if he had a family unit he could be a part of. Maybe that’s why she was so close to him. She tried to protect him from loneliness and any feelings of abandonment without being a helicopter mom. All in all, Brendon was a well-adjusted, responsible young man. He had a good head on his shoulders. She sighed. She missed his humor and his attention.
She wrapped herself in a long, plush robe, made some chamomile tea, and settled into bed with a book. Around eleven, she saw the headlights of the pickup pull into the driveway. Normally, she would be half asleep, and he would fall into bed. Sometimes he would kiss her on the head. But tonight was different. She wanted to see what it was like to have a conversation with him at the end of his day and an evening of bacchanalian behavior.
She heard him rattle around the kitchen for a few minutes, opening and closing the refrigerator door. “Whoa! Check it out!” She surmised that he had found the bologna and cheese.
Tori called out to him. “That’s for lunch tomorrow, hon.”
He came sauntering into the bedroom. “Well lookie here. You’re awake!”
She smiled up at him. “I am.” He bent over to give her a kiss, his breath smelling of sour beer. She kept smiling. “So you found your surprise?”
He plopped down on the side of the bed and took off his boots and tossed them toward the closet. Tori suppressed a cringe. She had asked him repeatedly to leave them in the laundry room over the years. She realized the shoe thing and the socks-on-the-floor thing were inherent in males.
“Whacha readin’?” he asked, as if he were interested. Tori thought maybe it was his idea of foreplay.
“Just another mystery novel.”
He started rubbing her leg. Even though it had been several weeks, she had no interest in sex that night but didn’t want to get into a squabble with him. Instead, she hopped out of bed. “I have an idea.” She quickly moved toward the kitchen. “Let’s have lunch now!”
He groaned. “Are you serious? It’s almost midnight.”
“That’s why they call it a midnight snack. Come on!”
She pulled out the packaged cold cuts, mayonnaise for him and mustard for her, lettuce, and a loaf of white bread.
He shuffled in a few minutes later. “You reallyareserious.”
She pulled out a can of beer and poured it in a glass and handed it to him. He pulled out a chair and sat at the dining-room table. “You’re in quite a mood tonight.”
