“Alejandro said I should ask for you about a waitressing position that may be open.”
For a second she appeared confused, but then she smiled again. “Ah, Alejandro.” Her gaze became more scrutinizing, and I held myself still so as not to fidget under her assessment. “Yes, we do have a position open. Do you have experience?”
“Yes. I worked at IHOP for three years. I could provide a reference.” Not from Ron.
Rosa smiled again. “A reference from Alejandro is more than enough. He’s my husband. I trust him.”
I wasn’t above a white lie now and again, especially when it came to acquiring a job I really needed, but something about this woman’s kind eyes and gentle manner made me hesitant to be anything except completely honest with her. “Well, see, I . . . don’t actually know Alejandro. I just met him about ten minutes ago.”
Rosa laughed, a pretty, sweet sound that made me smile, though with some confusion. She put a hand on my shoulder. “That’s enough, too. What size shirt do you wear?”
I blinked. “Size?”
“For a uniform.”
My heart soared. “Oh, um. Small.”
“I think we have several of those already in the back. Good. No need to order one. We’ll just get you a nametag. What’s your name, dear?”
“Annalia. Thank you so much.”
“No, thank you. How soon can you start?”
“Right away. As soon as possible.”
“Ah! Even better. Okay. Come with me, and I’ll put you with María today so she can train you.”
I felt one hundred pounds lighter than I had when I’d left IHOP. I had a job, and I could begin getting my life back on track. I was near Hudson, and I hoped and prayed Preston would work out a schedule with me so I could see him regularly.
I didn’t know what was possible as far as our relationship, and I wasn’t even sure what I was hoping for in that regard. We’d gone so far past what I assumed was the point at which we might have been able to salvage something—even friendship.
I couldn’t help the hurt and bitterness that still clung to me like a second skin, and I knew Preston felt the same. I knew he had been lost to his grief—understandably so—but I never understood why he had seemed to hate me. One night he’d claimed he’d always wanted me, and then . . . then . . . nothing. I never understood why he had barely been able to look at me without wincing. We’d once been friends. And then, though briefly, lovers. I’d once dreamed for much more.
But . . . this was a step in the right direction as far as my own life was concerned, and that’s what I had to focus on right now if I was going to be any kind of mother to my son.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Preston
The screen creaked with familiarity as I pulled it open, using my forearm to wipe the sweat from my brow. The day was mild but the kitchen felt stuffy, and I told myself for the thousandth time I needed to get this old house wired for central air. Money was still tight though. It’d probably be another few years before I could afford to do something like that.
“I thought it was supposed to rain today,” Tracie said, coming into the kitchen and shooting me a smile. Hudson was in her arms, having just woken from his nap. He was clutching his favorite blanket, his thumb in his mouth.
I gave Tracie a small smile in return before I went to the sink to wash my hands. “That’s what they said, but I don’t see any sign of it.” Then again, I hadn’t seen any sign of it that night either and still, the rain had come.
I leaned forward and used my hand to put a little bit of the cold water on the back of my sweaty neck. Grabbing a paper towel, I dried my hands and then turned around, enjoying the feel of the water droplets that were still sliding down into the collar of my shirt. The material would catch the excess.
I held out my arms for Hudson and Tracie handed him to me, her eyes lingering on my throat. I felt a single bead of water move over the skin there and Tracie swallowed, moving her eyes away and turning abruptly.
I stilled, Hudson in my arms. Was my mom right? Was Tracie attracted to me? I’d never noticed it before . . . but would I have? Probably not. I’d been in my own world for what felt like a long time now.
I suddenly felt awkward as if the mood in the room had changed, and we both knew it. “Hey, buddy,” I said softly, kissing Hudson’s sweet-smelling hair and focusing on the baby in hopes of moving past the strange tension I suddenly felt. “Did you sleep good? You thirsty? It’s warm in here, isn’t it?” I set him in his high chair and strapped him in before putting the tray in place and then filled his sippy cup with a quarter apple juice and three-fourths water. I handed it to him, and he took it with a toothy smile, sticking it in his mouth and tipping it back. “Good boy,” I murmured.
Tracie had moved to the counter and was heating up a bowl of pasta. I moved out of the way when she approached Hudson’s high chair, taking a seat and putting the bowl on his tray. He set his sippy cup down and she spooned some soft noodles into his mouth. “That good?” she crooned, smiling at him affectionately.
She was good with him and obviously cared for him very much. I was lucky to have found her after Lia left. At the thought of Lia, my stomach squeezed as it usually did. Christ Almighty, would I ever find peace when it came to even the very thought of her?
I sighed, taking a seat in a chair on the other side of the table and leaning on my forearms as I watched Tracie spoon-feed my son.
I hadn’t called Lia yet like I’d told her I would. I was still getting used to the idea that she was back in town. I felt like I needed a couple of days to get my bearings, to regain some calm, and try to let go of some of the resentment that had built up for six long months. It wouldn’t do Hudson any good for us to be at each other’s throats. She was his mother. We’d have to work something out. It was just that the idea of her being back in my life regularly made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. As much as I’d tried desperately to find her, as much as I was grateful she was okay for Hudson’s sake, I didn’t know how to sort all my own feelings out. We’d veered too far off track to make anything work between the two of us, so how was I going to handle seeing her on a regular basis as . . . what? Sort of friends eventually? Co-parents who tolerated each other?
“I ordered the cake for tomorrow,” Tracie said, glancing over at me and snapping me from the turmoil going on in my head. When I looked at her blankly, she tipped her head, giving me a wry smile. “You didn’t forget about Hudson’s party, did you?”