Trailer Park Heart (Page 38)

My mom never chipped in for groceries. Since I lived in her home on reduced rent, cooking and cleaning were how I paid the rest of my way. Groceries were my responsibility. And if Max and I had to go hungry, that was our problem. Maxine wanted nothing to do with our problems.

Which was why I hesitated now.

Coco thought it was ridiculous I had to pay my mom to watch my kid. But she was cheaper than daycare and usually reliable. Saturday nights were a different story though. She was usually never available, except on the occasional night off or if I needed to work, so I never asked.

But she was home tonight… and dancing sounded fun. Hell, dressing up like a grownup sounded like fun.

I wanted something sexy with heels and makeup. I wanted to feel like something other than a mom for just a minute.

“Spit it out,” Maxine ordered, noticing my mental Olympics.

“Coco texted…”

She gave me a hard look from across the table. I was an adult with a child and yet she had this amazing ability to make me feel five years old again with just the raise of her drawn on eyebrows.

“And?”

Big girl panties, Ruby. This was your mom, not an invading dictator, threatening to strip all your freedoms and lock you away in an internment camp for the rest of your life. “Would you mind terribly if Max hung out with you tonight? I thought maybe I could meet her in town for a drink or two?”

She shoveled another bite of casserole in her mouth. Frown lines started to appear around the corners of her mouth and she stabbed at her next bite more forcefully. “You know, I never had help with you. I never had a mom around to watch my kid, so I could go paint the town red.”

It wasn’t like she hadn’t gone out when I was a kid, though. She just took me with her. To the bar, to Misty’s, to the neighboring trailer. But telling her that would have been pointless.

My stomach fizzled with dread. I shouldn’t have asked. I should have just told Coco no.

“Please, Grammy?” Max chimed in, surprising us both. “You promised we could watch Jurassic Park next time! Please, please, please!”

Leave it to a child to soften the ice queen’s cold, dead heart. She looked at him, her eyebrows settling back to a more normal position. “I did say that didn’t I?”

“I have M&Ms,” he added, bribing his grandmother with candy to get her to spend time with him. I would consider that later… after I went dancing and remembered that I was a woman again and not just a mom.

She cracked a smile at him. “Does your mom have popcorn to pop?”

He rolled his eyes. “Always.”

“All right, but you can’t be any trouble, okay? Grammy’s not in the mood for shit.”

“Mom,” I growled, but Max was beaming from ear to ear.

“Promise!”

She threw her head toward my bedroom. “Yeah, I don’t care then. Go on, go have fun.”

I smiled at her. “I’ll make it up to you,” I promised, meaning I would pay her later. For as hard of a woman as she was, she had let me keep it a secret that I paid her for babysitting. I couldn’t stomach the idea of Max ever finding that out.

She shook her head and took another bite. “It’s all right. Like the kid said, we’ve been wanting to watch the movie.”

Surprised tears wet the corners of my eyes and I jumped out of my chair before she could see them. If I thought it was awful to show Levi emotion, it would have been a thousand times worse to break down in front of my mom.

“Thanks, Mom. Seriously, thank you.”

She waved me off. “Just don’t come home pregnant again.”

I threw myself into my bedroom, already texting Coco back to let her know I would meet her at Pug’s. I had already brushed my mom’s comment off because that was crazy talk, when I heard Max say, “Does dancing get you pregnant?”

Oh, god.

My mom answered, “In your mom’s case it does.”

Well, I would have to clean up that mess later. But first…dancing!

Forty-five minutes later, I walked into Pug’s in a strapless romper I’d grabbed from the Target clearance rack. It was my favorite article of clothing I owned, and I hadn’t had a chance to wear it yet. It was a little chilly out to be running around with half my body exposed, but I looked hot, damn it.

It should also be noted, that we didn’t have a Target in Clark City. The closest one was in Kearny, an hour away. I’d picked it up in August when Max and I had gone back to school shopping.

It was a trek to go spend money somewhere, but Max had outgrown everything he owned over the summer. And Kearney had a Target and a Wal-Mart.

Pug’s was packed for some reason tonight. I had to squeeze through bodies almost as soon as I walked in the door. I stood on my tiptoes to find Coco, but the place was packed.

I pushed through to the bar and found a place off to the side. I pulled out my phone and texted her. Where are you?

“What can I get you?” the bartender shouted over the roar of the crowd.

Trying to hide my inability to order drinks—I didn’t actually have that much experience hanging out in a bar or with drinking in general and whenever I went out with Ajax, he’d ordered for me—I scanned the bottles of liquor behind him.

I leaned forward, recognizing him. He was a few years younger than me, but I couldn’t remember his name. “What do you recommend?”

His half smile was cocky. “What do you like?”

I waved my hand around the bar without touching the sticky, glossy wood. “I’m not much of a drinker. I don’t know what I like.”

He stepped closer, the other side of his mouth ticking up to join the first. “Then you’ve come to the right place. I can help with that.”

Warm arms wrapped around my middle and pulled me back against a solid chest. A scruffy face brushed against mine and I inhaled Ajax’s woodsy, whiskey scent. “She wants a shot of Fireball.”

The guy looked at Ajax and frowned. “Are you sure that’s what she wants?”

Ajax chuckled, tightening his grip on me. “Don’t worry about it, I know exactly what she likes.”

Were we still talking about my drink?

I wanted to shake off Ajax, but I didn’t. He turned me around and kissed me enthusiastically. I could tell he’d been drinking for a while because his kiss was sloppy, and he tasted like booze.

This time I did step back, leaving his lips to follow insistently after mine.

“H-hey,” I said, letting him know I was done. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” He took my hand and spun me around, taking in my entire outfit. “What are you doing here, mamacita? And looking like fire. Did you do this for me?”

I cleared my throat and dodged the question. His eyes were unfocused, and his button-up shirt and designer jeans had a disheveled look about them. “I’m meeting Coco,” I shouted over the blaring country music. “We came to dance.”

The bartender handed him the small glass of golden liquor and he held it up for me. “Dance? Sí. But first, this.” When I hesitated, he dipped his head, so I could hear him better over the music. His lips touched my ear and he shouted, “Liquid courage, Rubita. It tastes like Red Hots.”

Taking the drink from him so he would give me space, I knocked the shot back and braced myself for the burn. To my surprise, Ajax had told the truth, it really did taste like Red Hots. I licked my lips and tried to pretend I didn’t like it as much as I did.