Page 19 of Outlaw Heartstrings
The child slumps back in her seat, folding her arms and poking out her bottom lip. “No! I wantex…tra spi…see chee...darcheese sticks!”
Okay. Maybe she’s notthatcute.
Emmeline gives me an apologetic look, handing a French fry to the toddler who is fussing loudly and vigorously slapping his palms against his highchair. “We try to allow our kids to make choices for themselves instead of questioning their every decision,” she informs me, flinching.
And that seems to be working out just great for her.
Am I annoyed right now? Yes. But I know that the amount of money I make today depends on how willing I am to just grin and bear it.
Plus, Emmeline seems like a nice enough person. Although, for some reason, she appears to go out of her way to start conversation with me whenever we see each other. I haven’t quite figured out her endgame.
Christopher started dating her not long after he left me. In the blink of an eye, they were married and popping out babies. A part of me thinks that Emmeline feels guilty that she ended up with what was supposed to bemyfairytale ending. It’s almost like she’s trying to convince me that she’s not a bad person.
But she has nothing to prove to me. I’ve become accustomed to running into the happy little family around town over the years. Seeing them doesn’t bother me anymore.
I’m well aware of what kind of man Christopher is. Honestly, Emmeline can have him.
“Oh, okay. Of course.” I smile harder, shifting my weight from one foot to the next as I continue to ignore the fact that I’ve needed to pee for the last twenty minutes. “Extra spicy cheddar cheese sticks coming right up.”
As I turn to walk away, Emmeline calls after me. “Um, Alba.”
I glance back and find her digging around in her purse.
“I—I, uh, just thought—”
Christopher cuts her off with a stern look.
She slowly slips the pamphlet she’s holding in her hand back into her purse. She shakes her head. “Um, never mind.”
Okay. Weird.
I offer Emmeline a forced smile.Paycheck,I chant tomyself as I head back to the kitchen to put in her daughter’s order.Paycheck, paycheck, paycheck.
Though with my Easton-related anxiety bouncing in and out of my thoughts, I’m barely managing to getthrough this shift. I’m distracted as hell and my tips show it.
To be fair, the daytime tips are never quite as good as they are on the evening shift. But I’m trying to get through real estate classes at night, so it’s like an ugly jigsaw puzzle, trying to fit the pieces of my life together lately.
These days, I’m feeling less confident that I’ll ever finish the real estate program I started. I already failed the exam the first time I took it a few months back. I need to study so I can retake the test soon, but I’ve been dragging my feet.Plus, it’s not cheap, taking the test again and again.
It’s so annoying. I should know this stuff forward and backward. I’ve been studying the ins and outs of real estate since I was in high school. But this exam? It’s freaking hard, and it’s starting to feel like a dead end.
Most days, I’m just too drained to concentrate. Between my three part-time jobs and trying to squeeze in as much time as I can with Jagger, finding the right balance is overwhelming.
But, I really, really want a career. One that will pay my bills and allow Jagger to have the opportunities he deserves.
So, I grind and I grind, until it’s hard to put one foot in front of the other. Today and every day.
It sure would be nice to get some help.
In between customers, I keep checking my phone. Raya still hasn’t gotten back to me. When she didn’t respond to my text messages, I reached out to her on social media. I tried calling her, too.
I need to speak to her. I want her to know that Easton is back in town. I want to give her the opportunity to weigh inon how to handle the situation. I think it’s the respectful thing to do. But my twin sister still hasn’t responded to me and I’m starting to get frustrated.
In those first days and weeks of Raya’s pregnancy, I tried to convince her to tell Easton that he was going to be a father. But she insisted that parenthood was definitely the last thing on Easton’s agenda, and I couldn’t help but agree that she had a point.
Easton was always a good guy, but he was also just starting out as a rookie in a really tough professional league. I grew up with a father who sacrificed his hockey dreams to raise a family. The bitterness he harbored toward my sister, my mother and me was brutal. Call it my ego or call it protectiveness, but I couldn’t bear the thought of Easton resenting my precious nephew the way my dad resented me.
So I kept my mouth shut and went along with Raya’s course of action back then, keeping the truth of Jaggers paternity a secret from everyone, even our parents.
