Page 24 of John Wilder Gets Schooled
“Kids are near the road,” I said. They weren’t, not really, but it gave us both an excuse to change the subject. “Hey, um, is it okay if I take some photos today? For Gracie’s mom? Just of Gracie. Like, I don’t want to be a weirdo.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “I’ll be taking pictures for the class newsletter anyway. She’s, um, not here in Goose Run?”
“College in Maryland,” I said. “She got a scholarship. Cassidy’s smart as hell.”
“And you have full custody for the first time?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Guilt bit me. “It’s been a big adjustment. I’m still figuring it out. Well, I don’t need to tell you that.”
This time his smile was a little more genuine.
“I’m doing my best to balance out everything,” I said. “Like,school and work. The same things every parent does, except I’m five years behind. It’s shitty, but I never realized exactly how much heavy lifting Cassidy was doing until suddenly I have to do it all.”
“I think that’s pretty typical,” Avery said in a measured tone. He hesitated before saying, “And working mostly nights must make it easier in some ways, I guess?”
I blinked for a second, and then my brain caught up with my ears and I realized he thought that stripping was my only job. I snorted. “I work as a roofer. Pretty sure you need daylight for that.”
Avery’s mouth dropped open, and his cheeks flushed pink. “Oh. So the other thing is…”
“A side hustle, yeah. Gotta pay for those school lunches somehow, right?” I said with a wry smile.
I half expected him to make a comment about how at least I had a respectable day job, but instead he said, “No wonder you’re in such good shape.” He froze, like he hadn’t meant to say that, then hastened to add, “I just meant working two physical jobs must help with keeping fit, that’s all.”
I wasn’t into guys, but I had to admit Avery was kind of cute when he was flustered. “It’s fine. And honestly, I enjoy the dancing more than the roofing. It’s a hell of a lot less tiring than climbing ladders, and the tips are better too.”
Avery’s blush darkened, and I wondered if he was remembering the handfuls of dollar bills he’d shoved into my thong—because I sure as hell was. I didn’t say anything, though, since we’d agreed to never ever discuss it.
After a minute he cleared his throat and said, “So does the Adventurama really have a three-legged dog?”
“You’ll find out in a minute,” I said. “We’re here.”
Avery stopped and looked around. “Where?”
I fought to suppress a laugh. “Up ahead. See the sign?” Two houses up, there was a rusty, hand-painted tin sign that saidGoose Run Animal Adventurama, with an arrow pointing up the driveway of a modest single-story house.
The sign creaked in the breeze, and Avery’s brow furrowed. “That’sthe petting zoo?”
“It’s Bobby’s house,” I said. “The petting zoo is in his backyard.” Calling it a petting zoo was being generous—the lineup consisted of four ducklings, an occasional litter of kittens, a three-legged dog, a baby goat, a couple of hamsters, and of course, the goose. But to a bunch of five-year-olds, it might as well have been Jurassic Park.
Right on cue, Bobby came wandering down the driveway. Instead of his usual short shorts, Bobby was wearing short overalls over his stars and stripes T-shirt and a battered straw hat in place of his usual Stetson. It was a look.
“Hey, y’all,” Bobby said. “You here for the Adventurama?” Like we’d be there for anything else. Then again, this was Bobby Merritt. There was no guarantee he hadn’t started running a daycare center on a whim. Bobby was always starting new businesses. He was weird as hell, but in a town as weird as Goose Run, it worked. He was the lifeblood of this place, no question. While other small towns around here were dying a slow economic death, somehow Goose Run was still hanging in there, and it was all down to Bobby.
“You must be Mr. Smith,” Bobby said, darting forward to shake Avery’s hand. “And Wilder! Good to see you! One of these is yours, I take it?”
“That one over there,” I said, pointing out Gracie. Gracie waved.
“Well, if she isn’t just the spit of you,” Bobby said. He took off his straw hat and bowed in Gracie’s direction. “Come on through, kids! Lucille’s been waiting all morning for you!” He turned back. “Don’t touch her, though. She’s a biter.”
A gasp ran through the group.
“Who’s Lucille and why is she a biter?” Avery whispered to me.
“Bobby’s goose.”
“Do geese have teeth?”
“Don’t need ’em,” I said.
