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We walk together to the table and Roman sits.
“How you likin’ the root beer, buckaroo?” I ask Rhett.
“It’s great, lady.”
I laugh. “Name’s Quinn if you’d rather call me that.”
He wrinkles his little upturned nose. “What kind of name is that?”
“Rhett, knock it off,” Roman says, sounding exasperated. He looks up at me. “Sorry, he was born without a filter between his brain and his mouth.”
“What’s a filter?”
He ignores the kid and places his order, and then Kiara gives me hers and the boy’s.
“I’ll be back in a jiffy,” I say, heading to the kitchen to put their orders in.
While Rick and the new cook we just hired get busy with their food, I head to my office to think. I really want to take that job, but the two things holding me back are: One, the amount of responsibility sounds completely overwhelming. Could I handle it? And two, would my P.O. let me travel?
Guess there’s one way to find out. I reach around for my cell from my back pocket and whimper, realizing I need to use the other arm. I find her number and dial.
“County Probation, this is Officer Mendoza,” she answers.
“Hi, ma’am. This is Quinn Walker. You got a couple minutes to answer some questions I got for ya?”
“Sure, Quinn. What’s on your mind?”
“I just got myself a really sweet job offer. Pays double what I’m makin’ now. The stipulation, aside from a whole lot more work, is that I might have to travel a few times a year to conventions and trainin’ and stuff. How does that work? In the past, Officer Richards made me tell him when I’d fly to Alabama to see my family. Would it work like that?”
“Honestly, Quinn, after we met, I took a look at your file. I’ve been contemplating letting you out of probation early. I read the entire case of the reasoning behind your arrest, and in my personal opinion, you didn’t really deserve a felony over that. Especially considering how many times you had to call for protection against your ex-husband. That, combined with your squeaky-clean probation record, clean UAs, and your lack of any sort of criminal history aside from the instant offense, I don’t think it would serve Douglas County to continue to supervise you. So I’ll take this call as a sign that’s just what I need to do. I’m going to cut your probation early.”
I burst into tears. They clog my throat and stream down my face. I can’t speak. I only sniffle. I snatch a tissue from the box on my desk and swipe at my eyes. Then, I blow my nose.
“You all right, Ms. Walker?” comes her voice on the line.
“Yes,” I squeak. “Yes, oh, my God! I’m so happy I could go runnin’ naked through the sprinklers right now, Ms. Mendoza!”
She laughs. “You’re a character. I’ll get the paperwork started. You can take that job without having to worry about getting permission to travel. Did you have other questions?”
I nod and wipe my nose again. “Yes. Have you ever heard of people’s cases gettin’ expunged? Like no felony record?”
She’s quiet for a few seconds then answers, “I believe felonies have to be pardoned by the governor. But if you got yourself a really good lawyer, you might be able to see what they could do for you. Seal your records up and all that.”
“Okay, thank you. I appreciate your time. Man, I’m so happy I could kiss you right now, Ms. Mendoza.”
She laughs. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll email over the papers once they’re signed by a judge, and then you’ll be free as a bird.” She recites the email address she has on file for me and I confirm it’s correct.
After we end the call, I head to the kitchen with a pep in my step.
Best day ever!
Next stop: CVS for a sling. I hope they’re not out. I have things to do tonight.
Fourteen
Lincoln
I feel a headache developing at the back of my skull, I’ve been concentrating so hard. I love crunching numbers but sometimes it’s just too much. Nate tells me I should give myself a break when I’m this deep in working out formulas, but I just can’t. Once I’m in, it’s like I have tunnel vision and can’t rest until the task is done.
