When I say go, run!
“You bothering these kids?” The waitress—her plastic name tag read Cherry—stood at the end of their table with one hand on her hip. She had a coffeepot in the other and looked about ready to clock the stranger.
“I’m not bothering them. He’s my son.”
“Oh. That so?”
Josh met the waitress’s eyes. His must have been filled with shock and fear because her brows came together and she stepped a little closer to him.
“You supposed to be seeing this one like this? His mama know you’re here with him? You got unsupervised visitation?”
Hardsten sat back, relaxed his arm on the top of the booth. “Now, no need for that. You know how custody goes. I just haven’t seen my boy in a while. I’ll shove off here in a minute. Okay?”
“I’ve got my eye on you, mister. You try to leave with either of these kids, I’m calling the cops.”
“No need, ma’am. No need. Just wanted to say hi.”
He stood and took the picture back from Josh’s grasp, ruffled the boy’s hair. “I’ll be on my way. Josh, I’m sorry your mom told you lies about me. But now that I’m out, I hope you and I can talk again.”
With that, the man winked at the waitress and sauntered away.
CHAPTER 22
Aubrey
Eighteen Years Ago
Aubrey was confused. First Josh said his father was dead, and she’d felt a kinship with him, something that they could share. Then this man showed up, trouble on a stick, as Sandy would say, all muscles and rolled sleeves and bits of tattooed ink running up his arm, and Josh freaked. Totally, completely freaked.
The minute the man left, Josh grabbed Aubrey by the hand and hauled her from the booth. “We gotta go.”
“Where?”
“To my house.” They were out of the Soda Shop now, into the beautiful day, Josh dragging her so fast that they were jogging up the street toward Dragon Park. The sun seemed sinister now, not cheery, and Aubrey hated the bad feeling that flooded her chest.
She dug in her heels and made him stop.
“Aubrey, let go. We need to go home.”
“Josh, I can’t go to your house. Your mother, she doesn’t like me.”
He swallowed hard, and Aubrey saw tears in his eyes. “I can’t do this alone, Aubrey. Please, please come with me.”
“Shouldn’t we wait until later? When school’s out? She’s going to be furious with you for cutting. Especially once you tell her what happened.”
She didn’t need to say the rest: Especially because you were with me.
That drew him up short. “You may have a point.”
“It’s noon now.” Aubrey made a show of looking at her watch, a digital piece of crap Sandy had picked up at Sears. At least it worked, unlike many of the things Sandy brought home. “School’s out in two hours. Do you think you can wait?”
He sat down hard in the grass. She sat next to him, wanting to reach over and touch him but not knowing if that was allowed. It was amazing to her that this boy liked her. He liked to spend time with her. He talked to her like she was his equal. He never called her bitch, like Tyler did. He called her by her real name, Aubrey, and once, last month, honey, which had made her chest expand and tears come to her eyes.
“What about the library? Aren’t you allowed to use it because of your dad? I mean, Tom.”
“Why do you want to go to the library?”
“We could go look him up. Find out where he’s been.”
“Ed Hardsten? My . . .” He paused, brows knitting, as if he couldn’t find a way to put the proper name together with the one that should symbolize love and caring and acceptance and security. He finally managed it, a whisper so soft she barely heard him because he was staring at the ground between his legs and couldn’t meet her eye. “My father.”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean, look him up and see where he’s been?”
Aubrey explained the lingo she’d heard from Hardsten. “He said ‘now that I’m out.’ In our house, that means he just got out of jail.”
“Jail.” Josh’s voice was flat. She understood. It was someplace he’d never go, or even know that much about. Jail was for bad people who did bad things. Josh was shining-light good. For the first time in their relationship, Aubrey was the one with the experience, with the knowledge, with the ability to help. It made her proud, and her chest puffed out a bit.
“The library will have answers. And it will take some time.” She braved it then, reached for his hand. “If he’s really your dad, then he’s alive. And that’s a good thing, right?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“So the library?”
“Okay.”