Silver Bastard (Silver Valley #1)(58)
Author: Joanna Wylde

Regina and Earl never pushed me to confide in them, and I hadn’t intended to bring up my mom at all. Something about sitting at the table together always got me talking, though, and tonight was no exception. As I watched Earl cut the roast, I found myself sharing the phone calls and my afternoon visit to the Vegas Belles Gentlemen’s Club.

“I can’t believe I fell for her bullshit again,” I said, poking at my potatoes with a fork. “You’d think I’d be smarter by now.”

“We’re hardwired to love our parents,” Regina said. “It’s part of being human. Something went wrong in your mama’s wiring, otherwise she’d treat you better. That doesn’t mean you should beat yourself up for having a heart.”

“What did you think of that strip club?” Earl asked, his eyes bright. I choked.

“Nice try,” Regina said, smacking him with a serving spoon. “Our girl nearly found herself taking off her clothes for strange men. You really want a club description?”

Regina continued to mutter as Earl caught my eye and winked. I bit back a giggle—the man had always been a joker, and he loved messing with his wife’s head. She never saw it coming, no matter how many times he did it.

“Should I go get the pie?”

“Damned straight,” Earl said. “Ice cream, too?”

“Would I let you eat huckleberry pie without ice cream?” Regina asked sternly. “You may be a forgetful old fool, but I’m still playing with a full deck. Becca, come to the kitchen with me.”

I shot an eye roll at Earl, then followed her out of the dining room. Their house was nothing special—just a little two-story that was nearly a hundred years old and showed every minute of its age. Nothing felt as safe and warm as this place, though. I never had a home with my mom, but I definitely had one here.

“You do the honors,” she said grandly, gesturing toward the pie. This was a Big Deal—usually she served the pie, pawning ice cream duty off on me. “I’m proud of you. You drew a line and stopped that woman from taking advantage of you. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” I admitted, pulling out the pie server and a sharp knife. “I’m glad I did it, too. She’s already caused enough damage.”

“Damned straight.”

Regina let me lead the way out of the kitchen, carrying my pie proudly. I set it down in the center of the table, wishing it didn’t have a ring of bright purple juice and ooze leaking from the side.

“Looks great,” Earl said.

“It looks like a two-year-old made it,” I replied, my tone rueful.

“Doesn’t matter what it looks like,” Regina said. “Taste is what matters. Don’t just stand there—serve the dessert before we all starve to death.”

Earl and I started laughing, because nobody could ever starve in Regina’s house. The real danger would be waking up one day weighing five hundred pounds. I sliced through the flaky crust, the still-warm filling welling up. Regina handed me a plate and I lifted it out, going back a second time to scoop up the tiny berries that spilled out the sides.

“So,” I said casually. “I have some more news. I’m seeing someone. At least, sort of seeing someone.”

“Really?” Regina asked, deftly plopping ice cream on the plate and handing it off to Earl as I scooped a second piece. “Is it that Collins boy? He’s a good sort.”

“Union boys say he’s got potential,” Earl added. “You could do worse.”

I swallowed. “I’m seeing Puck Redhouse.”

Silence.

Looking up, I found both of them staring at me.

“I know things were strange between me and him . . .”

“That’s an understatement,” Regina said. “Now just because you dropped a bomb on us doesn’t mean you can stop scooping the pie. Maybe you’re not ready yet.”

“To date Puck?”

“No, to be in charge of huckleberry pie,” she replied, biting back a smile. “Can’t say I’m surprised about Redhouse. I saw him watching you at the Breakfast Table the other day. He’s always had it bad for you. I just didn’t realize you felt the same way.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” I admitted. “It’s kind of scary—but he makes me happy, too.”

“You’re stepping out of your comfort zone,” she replied. “That’s always scary. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. You make sure he treats you right and it’ll all work out fine.”

Ten minutes later I sat back in my chair, stuffed nearly to the point of popping.

“You want another piece?” Regina asked. I shook my head—I’d be able to go without eating for a week after that meal. Thank God I didn’t have to work afterward, either, because just standing up to clear the table almost killed me.

“Can you do the dishes?” Earl asked Regina, startling me. “I’ve got that thing for our girl out in the garage. Probably even more important now, all things considered.”

Regina glanced at him, an entire conversation taking place silently between them.

“Sure thing—you two take care of your business.”

He winked at her, then stood and stretched, looking pleased with himself.

“So what’s going on?” I asked once we were outside.

“This business with your mom—it’s bad news,” he said. “And you still don’t know how it’ll play out. Say she really did decide to leave him, come up here. Would you be safe?”

“She’s not coming,” I said flatly. “You didn’t hear her. She’s just playing me for money. Again.”

“If that’s the case, she’s obviously desperate,” he replied. “And desperate people are dangerous. I’ve got a bad feeling about all of this. Proud of you for standing up to her, but I don’t think it’s over. Got something I want you to start carrying.”

My eyes widened as he walked over to the huge, custom-welded sheet metal cabinet he kept his tools and guns in. It’d come from the Laughing Tess back in the day, where he’d spent close to thirty years underground before McDonogh Corp. laid him off two years back. Working for the school had been a big step down for him, but he’d handled it with grace.

Earl fiddled with the padlock, something that’d always seemed out of place to me because they didn’t even lock their front door. Then he opened it and pulled an old cigar box off one of the shelves, carrying it back over to his workbench.