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He pulls my cell phone from behind his back and hands it toward me, water dripping from the seams of the case. “I’m sorry. I was playing the gem game, and I accidentally dropped it.”
My eyes widen as I stare at my son. “Where?”
“In the toilet.” He pouts. “I’m sorry, Mommy!”
A better mother would know what to say here. I’m sure she’d punish her son appropriately for being on her phone when he wasn’t supposed to be in the first place. Instead, I wrap Jackson in my arms and hold him close to my chest.
“It’s okay, bud. We’ll get a new one. Thank you for being honest.” In my head, I convince myself that honesty should be rewarded, despite the crime. But deep down, I know what I really want is for these kids to like me. They’re all I have.
Jackson kisses my cheek and runs back upstairs, leaving the drenched phone behind on the edge of the sofa.
“Wash your hands!” I holler out behind him.
I wonder if he flushed before or after he dropped it. I pick it up by the dripping edge and twist toward the kitchen in search of rice, but I’m startled by the giant in front of me.
“Wow. If my mother had let me off that easy, I’d have been a hoodlum by the time I was twelve.”
I roll my eyes. “Your mother clearly didn’t teach you to knock.”
“You told me a minute ago to use the front door if I needed to talk, so I am.”
“To knock on the front door. I said to knock.” I cross my arms over my chest. “What can I help you with, Mr. Laskin?”
“Nothing. Just letting you know I’m heading out to the store to get supplies. I’ll be back after lunch to finish up.”
My heart tightens. The roof. Damn it! Where am I going to find the money to do all of this work and replace my phone now?
I stare down at the phone dripping toilet water onto the floor, then rush into the kitchen and pour a bowl of rice, burying the toilet phone as deep as I can before washing my own hands. Could this morning get any worse? I need at least a thousand dollars now. I can’t roll around town with no phone. I have two kids and it’s the middle of winter. Just last month I had to call for a tow on the side of the road. What would’ve happened had I not had a phone? We’d have been walking through a blizzard to get help.
I close my eyes and lean against the kitchen counter before blowing out a heavy breath. There’s only one place I know where I can make fast cash and I’m not sure if they’re even looking for anyone right now, or how I feel about the subject of the work.
That said, I don’t really have a choice.
I glance toward the Alaskan who’s moved to staring at me in the kitchen. “Can I use your phone?”
He pulls his cell from his pocket and hands it toward me without hesitation.
Dear Lord, his hands are huge.
“Thanks.” I stare down at the phone and wander away from the kitchen as I search the number for the club I used to work at on the other side of the mountain. Declan has owned the place for years. And while it’s been a long time since I’ve run into him, I know he’ll help me out if he can.
When I find the number, I suck in some air, and press call. Club reception answers and transfers me to Declan’s office.
He picks up right away. “Peyton! How the hell are ya? Addie said she ran into you at the market last week. Said the kids are getting big.” Addie is his wife. They have three beautifulkids and what I’d consider to be the perfect little family. His club, The Barnyard, got a lot of pushback when it first came to the mountain, and it’s mostly visited by out of towners, but the place does well. I worked there briefly before I had the kids, and you could make some serious cash if you danced. One weekend a month, the honky-tonk turns country themed strip club. A weekend at this place and I can make up for all the cash I’ve lost and then some.
“Hey! Yeah, I’m good. Well, actually, not so good. That’s why I’m calling.”
“Oh, what’s up?” His tone rises with concern.
“I’m looking for work… temporarily. Something I can do for the weekend to earn some extra money. I had some things come up.”
“Good timing. I’ve got a spot for you tomorrow night if you’re free. There’s a girl out on vacation and we couldn’t find anyone to cover.”
“I’ll take it!” I agree quickly, though I know deep down this is a terrible mistake. I haven’t danced in years. Well, except for the weird two-step shimmy I do with the kids in the kitchen while I’m making dinner, but I’m not sure that counts.
“I’ll put you on the schedule. See you tomorrow at eight.”
I thank Declan again and disconnect the line. What did I do? It’s not that I’m ashamed of stripping, I’m not. It was an honest way of living for a long time, but it feels different with kids. I have to think about how my choices reflect on them now.
