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"Is it okay?"
"Yes. It's good." He looked up and took another sip. "Now that I know what's in here, it's good."
"You don't have to drink it like that," I said.
"What if you want a sip?"
"I'm not thirsty," I said. "And I don't mind drinking after you. Do I have anything between my teeth?"
He let out a laugh when I flashed him my smile. "No, your teeth are beautiful."
"Your teeth are beautiful," I said.
"I thought they were, but my mom made me get braces, anyway. I went to the orthodontist for a year of my life, and I thought my teeth were straight to begin with."
"I'm thankful I didn't need braces."
"Are you not going to tell any of the details that would freak me out? I have a feeling that whatever you have to say, it's not as bad as I would come up with by myself."
"My mom left my dad when I was two years old. He was hurting her, and she took me and left in fear for our lives. All I know is that I was born in New Mexico and that's where my dad still lives. If he's alive. She left him years ago. We drove north until the car completely broke down. I think we stole the car because I've heard her and Stanley talking about her repenting about it. She never told me that. All she told me was that I was born in New Mexico. I don't know our original names. She changed our names when she got here. I don't know my own name. Not my birth name, anyway."
"Corey's not your name?"
"No. Jones either. I mean it is now. It's the only name I've ever known. I've been Corey since I was two. I don't even remember her calling me anything else. I've tried to remember, and I can't. She named me Corey because if my real dad ever came to look for us, he would get thrown off by the boy's name."
"So, your mom's name isn't Betty Lou?"
"No. John told me our car broke down in Billings, Montana, and that's where she met Stanley's brother who told us about Stanley. He was in his sixties then and had just lost his wife. He needed help around the house and the church, and my mom took the position. They never fell in love or anything. But we live with him. He treats my mom like a daughter. He's old and grumpy. He's a preacher—one of those old-school strict ones."
"A lot of fire and brimstone?"
"I don't know what that means, but it sounds right."
"Is he nice to you?"
I shrugged. "He's Stanley. He's not nice, but he doesn't try to actively hurt me."
"That's not saying a lot for someone, that they're not actively hurting you. I feel like he could get a better score than that."
I laughed. "He could. He's not the best. I hate to say that, because as far as I can tell, the Bible seems true, and Jesus is amazing. But Stanley… there's not too much joy there. I don't know if he's the best choice as a preacher, or a Christian leader. I feel like he could have just as easily been a principal of a school or… I don't know. I did home-schooling, so I guess he sort of was a principal."
"Aren't you curious about your name? I love the name Corey, and I'm not saying you should change it, but why don't you ask your mom about your story? You're grown. I don't think your real dad would still be looking for you, would he?"
I let out a laugh at his casual tone. "My mom is scared to death that my dad is still looking for me. She has evidence that he's not even alive, and she's still freaked out. The storefront was a gigantic thing for us. For years, we just stayed in the house. She has a panic attack every day when I leave, and it's been over two decades since all that went down."
"Do you ever feel stuck?"
"I am stuck," I said, smiling at him.
"Why do you say it like that?"
"Because I am. My mom needs me. Stanley needs me. John thinks I'm the one who needs him, but he needs me. I've got three people and a few cats who rely on me to hold things together at home. They barely make it when I come back after six hours at the shop—much less a vacation."
"Who's John? You're not married are you?"
"No, no. He tried to talk me into it. He came to me when I turned eighteen."
"Wh-who is he?"
