Jaxson was in first grade, and he loved it. He was bright and was already reading far beyond his level.
“Why? You go five times a week. How could you be excited?”
“Today is Chris’s birthday, and he’s bringing in cupcakes,” the little boy said with a huge grin.
“You got me up so early because you’re excited about cupcakes?”
“I guess so,” Jaxson said.
“Do you know how late I worked?”
“Yeah. You didn't pick me up until two in the morning. I woke up as we were driving home.”
On nights that Jennifer worked, which was most of them, an older woman named Barbara, who lived down the street, watched Jaxson. After leaving the bar, Jennifer would swing by and pick him up. Being a single mother was tough, but Jennifer wouldn’t have had her life any other way. Jaxson’s dad had been an asshole, one of those tough guys Jen always found herself chasing after, and when she had gotten pregnant, he had disappeared. She was better off without him.
Jennifer’s mother lived across the country and wasn’t able to visit much, and she’d had no money to send when Jennifer had needed help.
Buying Chuck’s had been a big gamble, but it had paid off. Jennifer hadn’t gone to college. She had worked in the dingy bar for a couple of years. And then, when she was twenty-three, Chuck retired and offered the bar to the few employees he had. Jennifer was the only one who had expressed interest in buying it. She got a loan and did so. She wanted to make a better life for herself and for her son.
Twenty-three turned into twenty-four, and that gave way to twenty-five, and the bar stayed afloat, finally giving her a monetary cushion. She wasn’t living paycheck to paycheck anymore.
But she did stay up late, and she was tired, and she felt as though she was missing out on Jaxson, particularly since he was in school until three and she went to the bar at five, six times a week.
“Turn on the TV, but keep it low,” Jennifer groaned as her son cuddled up beside her. He searched for the remote, tossed among the blankets on the bed, found it, and turned on the TV that sat on a long dresser against one wall of the bedroom. Blue light flooded the dim room, and Jennifer groaned once more for good measure before pulling her pillow over her head and going back to sleep.
When she awoke again, it was because her alarm was going off. Seven twenty, time to get her son ready for school. Cartoons were on the TV, but Jaxson was sleeping beside her.
“Get up,” she said, nudging her son.
“I’m tired now.”
“Moms are allowed to sell kids, you know.”
After they climbed out of bed, she made breakfast and got him dressed. He was at school by eight, and she was back home ten minutes later. She collapsed into bed and went back to sleep.
Jennifer rose again just after noon. Her cell was ringing. She searched for her shorts; her phone was still in the pocket, and she had taken them off just before getting back in bed. She found her phone and looked at the screen. A name was there across it: Ryan.
Ryan was a nice guy. Maybe that was why she didn’t like him. He came into the bar sometimes, completely out of place among the blue jeans and leather. He always looked nice. He was a fit guy, a bit on the thinner side, and he wore khakis and polo shirts. His shoes were nice and shiny, and his arms were bare of tattoos or scars. He was wholesome. He had a good job—he was an accountant at a company twenty miles to the east, in a much bigger town called Grove.
And he was interested in Jennifer. He hit on her whenever he came into the bar. In fact, she was pretty sure he only came in to see her. She wasn’t sure how he had come to find his way into Chuck’s the first time, but he had seen her behind the bar and kept coming in. And he kept asking her out. For over a year now. She flirted with him, teased him; she found it fun. She was stringing him along, and she knew it. He was handsome, tall, and dark, his skin tanned, his smile dazzling. It was just those khakis. She didn’t like those kind of guys. Something was wrong with her. She needed a good guy. She knew it. So maybe she would give one a chance.
She answered her phone.
“Hello?”
“Oh, hey. It’s Ryan.” The man sounded surprised, as if he hadn’t expected her to answer. Probably because she usually never did.
“I know. What’s up?” the young woman asked. She lay back against her pillows, holding the phone to her ear.
“What are you doing?” Ryan asked. Jennifer smiled to herself.
“Lying in bed. I’m not wearing pants.”
She giggled. She knew that would drive Ryan crazy, and she knew that was rude, but she liked messing with the man too much. She heard him gulp, and she found herself thinking that it was cute how intimidated he was by her.
“Oh, I can let you go,” Ryan said.