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His throat clears. “Speaking of…I mean, um, of money and such, are your bosses okay with you being away from work for a few days?”
Probably, yes. I rarely miss either job. Now, how I’m going to pay my bills next month is another story. “Let’s hope so. Otherwise, I’ll be moving in with you permanently.”
The look my remark draws lasts far too long.
Before I can backpedal, his voice gravels. "I can imagine worse things.”
An elephant plops onto my chest. “John, I…”
“Leave it, Hollie.”
Yeah, more words won’t help this one.
“You do have family, right? I saw the picture on your wall.”
Meaning that I should have people to fall back on? “I do.”
“Would they help? That’s what family is for.”
He’s one to talk. I lean into the door. “Have you ever even told your family when you had a problem?”
He waxes thoughtful. “My dad and I talk a lot.”
Oh.
“If I had a need, my parents would be there.” He shifts his palms to the crossbar on the wheel. “But, I admit, I haven’t been in your situation.”
“No, you have not.” I feel like a snippy shrew. “Did you also happen to notice in that picture that I’m the youngest?”
“I noticed.”
“My next closest sibling graduated high school the year I was born.”
“So they’re older. All the more they should have resources to help you.”
“I don’t want their money. Would you?”
“If it came down to a choice between that or being homeless.”
“Oh, right. You’d go crawling then.”
One of his big shoulders lifts. “Well, I’m a man. It’s different.”
I glower.
“Well, it is. I could handle myself on the streets.”
My fists wad. “My point is, my siblings and I have never been close. By the time Jacob was born, they had their own families and had moved far away, and I already told you, my parents aren’t an option.”
“Why haven’t you moved closer to your mom?”
Boy howdy, he’s on a tear. “Because Chandor is my home. I did consider it, but by the time Sara moved Mom down south with her, Jacob was settled in school. Happy, and I didn’t want to take him from his friends.”
“How old was he?”
I think back. “Eight.”
I swear John’s eyeballs scrape the headliner. “An eight-year-old boy can make new friends.”
