Page 14 of Love By the Slice

He sent a thumbs up.

Two minutes hadn’t passed before Ezra sent, “You’re impossible. Now Shelly’s on my back.”

Greg texted, “About the kid?”

“I don’t even know what’s going on with the kid. No, about you.”

Greg sent a question mark.

Ezra replied, “She asked me to put her on for Thursday night. I should just have swapped you to Friday, and then put her on Thursday. I outsmarted myself.”

Greg texted, “Ooh, Shelly would be mad,” and as he sent it, Ezra’s text arrived, saying, “Shelly would have been so mad.”

Hah. See, he did know her well.

Ezra sent a laughing emoji.

Greg replied, “Put me on for Friday. I’ll bet you a tank of gas that I don’t screw things up before Valentine’s Day. You get out of the way, and I’ll treat her well, and then you fill up my tank.”

Ezra replied, “I’m going to win this because you can’t pay attention for that long, plus I have a sixteen gallon tank and yours is only twelve.”

Greg sent, “It could be a hundred gallons, and it wouldn’t matter. I’m not going to lose.”

Ezra added, “You don’t have to tell me to stay out of this because you’re going to crash and burn all on your own.”

A moment later, “Plus, I’ve already warned her about you.”

Greg sent, “Thanks.”

“No problem. You’re on for Friday, and may God have mercy on your soul.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

SHELLY NOW HAD more information than she knew what to do with, so to burn off energy, she stacked soda cans into the cooler at Loveless Pizza.

“Rowan doesn’t know I know any of this,” Shelly told Greg. “Well, maybe he knows I know some, but it doesn’t matter. I started asking questions when I made a delivery to someone who knows the school. It turns out Rowan’s living with his grandfather.”

Greg didn’t break rhythm while tossing a pizza. “Why?”

“No idea. It’s been about a year. Anyhow, his grandfather got injured and hasn’t been able to work. It’s a whole legal mess.” Shelly stocked the last of the colas and moved on to the Moxie. “He’s applied for disability and worker’s comp, but it’s taking forever, and they’re fighting it, and in the meantime he’s working under the table, but the company is arguing that if he’s working under the table then he’s not really injured, and the only ones getting money are the lawyers.”

Greg huffed. “Gotta hate that.”

“Well, it’s the mill, so what do you expect?” Shelly rolled her eyes. “Anyhow, that’s the situation. Rowan spends a lot of time on his own.” She shook her head. “And that’s that. Someone from the school did reach out, but of course they can’t say anything for real.”

Greg said, “I told you it would work out.”

She huffed. “It hasn’t worked out yet. Finding out what’s wrong doesn’t mean they’ve solved it.” The last Moxie went in, and Shelly started shelving root beers. “There are social services they could be accessing, and the school is going to put them in contact with that. Plus, the state Office of Child and Family Services is going to get involved, and they can help a bit more.”

Maine wasn’t rolling in cash when it came to offering services, but they had to have something, didn’t they? Mom never got anything, but Mom also lied through her teeth.

Greg said, “What kind of injury?”

“No clue. It happened on the job, and he says he can’t work anymore. They say it didn’t happen on the job, and he can.” Shelly shrugged. “I’ve got no idea who’s telling the truth, although based on experience, I’d have to say the paper mill has more reason to lie than he does.”

“Dad had a guy, claimed he broke his arm on the equipment.” Greg snorted. “Cameras showed nothing. Turned out he broke it skiing, came to work hurt, and wanted us to pay.”

Shelly said, “Your dad owns a machine shop. If the guy got his arm caught in a metal press, wouldn’t he not have any arm any longer?”

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