Page 25 of One for the Money
I look down at his cart and wrinkle my nose. “Why do you have almond milk? That shit is so thin.”
He rolls his eyes. “Did you forget I’m lactose intolerant?”
Snorting, I turn back to the counter. I’m next in line. “Well, that explains why you’re such an ass. A life without cheesy pizza is barely a life at all.”
“I’ve had pizza before, but it’s not worth the absolute hell I bring into the bathroom after. Dario, on the other hand, thinks it’s worth it. I swear one day he’s going to have a very embarrassing moment on the trapeze.”
I gag a little at the mental image. “Buy that man some enzymes or something to help him process it.”
He holds up a purple box from his cart. “Way ahead of you.”
After collecting the prescription, we walk through the store as I load the cart up with the groceries I need. “Do you think we should do a troupe dinner? It’s been a while.”
Dexter’s face lights up. “Can we barbecue something? I think there are grills in the pavilion at the fairgrounds.”
One of the toughest aspects of our job is that we don’t get to have days where we can lounge around, and most of the time, we’re eating cheap convenience food. But every once in a while, I’m able to book us at a nicer fairground that has some amenities for us. The one we’re at right now regularly hosts big state fairs, so there are several pavilions, and one of them has a grill for whenever people rent it out.
“Well, I don’t know if we’ll have time for low and slow, but maybe we can grill some burgers?”
Dexter’s face drops in an almost childlike manner. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I forget sometimes that he and Dario had a shitty childhood once their dad was put away. From the little bit I’ve gathered, they mainly had to fend for themselves and missed out on a lot of family things, like cookouts and reunions.
In a way, this circus is the only family they have, and I need to do better about showing the two that we see them the same way.
I feel bad for defaulting to what’s easy by suggesting burgers. I snag the cart from Dexter and direct us over to the meat section of the store. I catch the attention of the butcher behind the counter.
“Anything on special?”
The butcher puts down the knife he was holding and leans against the case in front of him. “I got some pork chops that can’t be sold after today that I can mark down for you. And our wings are on special too.”
“What do you think, Dex?” I ask the other Alpha. He’s been surly since Dr. Alex showed up, but right now, he’s more like the guy who’s been with me for a decade.
“Pork chops and wings sound great. I’ll go grab some sauces.”
“Better load me up,” I tell the butcher, leaning on the cart while I wait for him to package up the meat. “I’ve got a lot of mouths to feed.”
The sizzlingand smell of the meat is the perfect ambiance for a troupe meal on what is shaping up to be a gorgeous day. Watching my whole troupe, my family, goofing off and chatting together,feels so good.
At first, it was just me and a dream. I was nineteen, and didn’t want to go to secondary school, but had no idea what I was going to do with my life. One show was all it took. I joined Cirque de Mordu as a roadie and completed that time-honored tradition of disappointing my parents. The showrunner, Carl, took me under his wing and mentored me, so that when he was ready, he could retire and know his baby was in good hands. That was twelve years ago.
A lot of the acts had a problem with someone as young as I was running shit, so I lost a few, but I eventually replaced them with even better performers, and now I have the family I see in front of me. I have vetted every single person here, and we fit together well.
When Carl died suddenly two years ago, I found out he had willed the circus to me. The old Alpha never found an Omega or a pack, but I wasn’t aware that I was all he had. I knew I was staying in this business for the rest of my life, but I never dreamed I’d be the owner one day.
It’s more than I could’ve ever hoped for. And now my parents aren’tasdisappointed in me as they were before.
I’m proud of what I’ve done here, of the things I’ve accomplished. I’ve gone through some shit, but I also got sober here, which was hard as fuck but so worth it. It’s opened up my eyes to a lot of toxic and dangerous things I did without even realizing how detrimental they were. I don’t regret getting sober, even if I know it’ll always be hard.
Rex comes up and holds out a plate piled high with potato salad and coleslaw, and I drop a pork chop onto it. He salutes me with one hand and stalks away, all knees and elbows. The dude reminds me of a praying mantis.
Eventually, Quinton appears at my elbow.
“Hey, Jude,” he croons. “Have you seen the doc?”
I almost drop my tongs on the grill. “No, shit. Did anyone invite her?”
The one person I didn’t vet well. I was too desperate to get a doctor on staff because, as much as I love these guys, they’re always having some sort of crisis. So I hired her sight unseen, without even a phone interview.
“I guess not. I should do that. She’s going to feel left out if we don’t,” Quinton says, running his fingers through his shaggy hair. “Kind of shitty that you didn’t think to invite her.”
