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“Oh. Okay.”
The kid looked absolutely crushed, and I felt bad. But his mom looked relieved as she began walking backward toward her house.
“Come on, kiddo,” she said. “It was nice to, um, meet you, Soldier.”
“Yeah,youtoo.” I offered her a friendly, hopeful smile. “I’ll see you around, Ray.”
***
And I did.
I noticed that every Tuesday,Rayand Noah came to The Fisch Market to do their grocery shopping. And every Tuesday, Noah stopped by to chat with me wherever I was cleaning or stocking the shelves while his mom did the shopping. She never seemed thrilled that he was neglecting to help hertowhile he was talking with me, but she never seemed bothered by it either. Not the way everyone else seemed to be.
“I can’t believe you’re letting your son talk to him,” I overheard one woman say. “You know he’s a criminal, right?”
“Lots of people are criminals, Sheila,” Ray replied, unamused. “Doesn’t make all of them bad.”
“I’m not talking about a couple of nights in jail, Ray. He was in prison for adecade.”
Actually, itwas just short of ten years, Sheila, but who’s counting?
What stood out to me though was that Ray hadn’t just replied to that woman—she haddefendedme. And while Noah followed me as I swept and his mom let him while not allowing others to talk shit about me to her, it almost seemed like I had two more people on my side. It was nice, and Tuesdays became my favorite day.
That was until the Tuesday when I turned thirty-one. My first birthday back in society and the ten-year anniversary of the day I’d been arrested. Harry had called to wish me a good one and asked if I’d like to come by that weekend for dinner at his place. I appreciated the sentiment, but I couldn’t say I was really in the mood to celebrate. Because all I could do was think about Billy. When I woke up, as I ate breakfast, and when I got dressed for work … I thought about Billy.
And I continued to think about him on the brisk bike ride to work, and I continued thinking about him as I smacked my head against the Produce sign not once, but three times throughout the day.
“You always duck,” Noah observed on the third hit as I rubbed my forehead and cursed under my breath.
I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Huh?”
“The sign.” He pointed at the damn thing, taunting me with its bright, colorful light. “You always duck.”
“Yeah, I usually do,” I agreed with a sigh, resuming the push of the mop through a puddle of spilled apple juice.
“So, why not today?”
“Because it’s …” I stopped and leaned against the mop handle, deciding if I should be honest or not. But I always found it was usually better to tell the truth, so I said, “It’s not a great day for me.”
“Oh.” Noah frowned. “Why not?”
“Well, it’s my birthday, and—”
Ray gasped, and I turned to see her standing near the pyramid of potatoes. “Wait. It’s your birthday?” Her mouth remained frozen in a wide O, like she should’ve realized this.
I brushed her shock away with a shrug. “It’s no big—”
“Oh my God, happy birthday!”
“No”—I shook my head adamantly—“you don’t have to do that. It’s, uh … it’s not a happy day. I …”What? Killed my best friend on this day? Was arrested on this day? Was born on this fucking day?“A lot of stuff happened today that I don’t like thinking about, so …”
“But youarethinking about it,” Noah pointed out, gesturing toward the sign I was bound to suffer a concussion from eventually.
I inhaled deeply, feeling all at once ridiculously defeated. “Yeah, I know. It’s hard not to.”
“You should come over,” Ray decided out of nowhere. “I’ll make you dinner.”
Mayor Connie Fischer had entered the store at that moment, her curious eyes immediately on the felon talking to the nice mom and her preteen son. I waved at her, and she waved back, but that look of suspicion never left her face, even as she walked away.
