Cheryl Harper - Saving The Single Dad

When Monroe slid Woody’s plate into the window, Christina knew her time had run out. “What do you want?”

“Send me a picture of the kids. Please. I miss them. And if you have a chance to talk to Brett, convince him to reconsider letting me talk to them. One phone call. Please.” Leanne’s voice shook at the last.

“Come home, Leanne. The only way to fix this is if you come home.” Christina smiled at Woody to stall his impatient gestures for his food cooling in the window.

“I can’t. Not right now. Things aren’t good.” Leanne sniffed loudly and Christina fought the shiver that crept down her spine. “I’ll be home soon, though.”

“Where are you?” Christina asked. “I’ll come get you.” She had no idea how she’d get there, but she’d steal the keys to Woody’s truck herself if it meant saving Leanne from whatever was going on.

“Not now. See if you can talk to Riley and Parker. After school?” Leanne asked. “You could drop by, pick them up and take them to McDonald’s. Parker still loves the playground there.” Leanne took another drag.

“Pick them up? In my arms? Because I have no car .” Christina shook her head. “Just get back here, Leanne. We’ll go to McDonald’s together. Until then, I can’t help you.”

She ended the call over her friend’s protests, marched to the window to pick up Woody’s plate, took a deep breath, and then turned to slide it in front of him. “Sorry about that. A small emergency.” When she realized her hands were shaking, Christina made tight fists.

Would telling Leanne no ever get easier?

Woody’s puckered mouth didn’t ease until she flashed him the smile she’d used ever since she was seven years old and realized a bit of innocence could get her out of a scrape. “I hope you aren’t too mad.”

His long sigh as he unwrapped his silverware faded as she leaned one elbow on the counter next to him. “What can I do to make it up to you?” If he complained to the manager, it would be her second in a week. Since she’d been late two mornings in a row, thanks to the complete lack of friendlies who’d pick up a hitchhiker, Christina had to do whatever she could to soothe his ruffled feathers. Luisa was a great boss, but she wouldn’t forget unhappy customers easily.

Woody tapped his half-empty coffee cup. “Fill ’er up. Keep me company. That’s all, sweetness.” He’d always be easy to jolly out of a bad mood. Woody was a sucker for a friendly smile.

Christina tipped the pot up and watched the other tables in her section. “Where you headed out today?” Christina asked.

“Thought I might troll over closer to the falls.” Woody slurped his coffee. “Should be nice and cool.”

Christina nodded and propped the other elbow on the counter. Stretching the muscles in her back felt good.

“You could come with me.” He waggled his eyebrows as he shoved a forkful of egg in his mouth, one drop of yolk landing on his chin. While he chewed, he said, “Be happy to save you the long walk home.”

Christina offered him his own paper napkin. People who waited tables should not be as completely grossed out by dribbles as she was, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Were you eavesdropping on my phone call, Woody? Naughty.” She ignored the lurch of worry in her stomach at the reminder of Leanne’s request.

He took a bite of his pancakes and completely ignored the stray syrup that landed on his chin. “Heard about it in town first. Leanne stole your car, huh? And your man. Friends like that, you don’t need enemies, am I right?” He didn’t seem all that worried about the serious downturn in her luck.

She’d learned to expect that same attitude from most of Sweetwater, so it didn’t surprise her. Charity at Christmastime? The town could pull together for that, but everyday caring for people with real trouble was less common. She’d find the solution to her problems on her own, like she had her whole life.

Being flat broke, stuck in a town that hated her and in serious need of a way out was nothing new.

She’d also take care of Leanne. Always had. Always would.

“Guess everyone’s talking about Leanne,” Christina said as she replayed Leanne’s phone call in her head. In the same spot, Christina might not be in a big rush to come home, either.

Except she couldn’t imagine walking out on her kids. Ever.

“She pops up now and again. Things died down after the de-vorce,” Woody said, hitting the first syllable hard. “Then she disappeared with Beau, and you and her are both topics of convos regular-like.”

“Leanne and Beau aren’t together. It’s a coincidence they left town at the same time.” Christina had no idea if it were true, but Woody could start that rumor circulating and get them some benefit of the doubt.

And it wasn’t the first occasion she’d lied to make the people of Sweetwater let go of a juicy tidbit.

She and Leanne ought to be used to being the subject of speculation. For their whole lives, they’d been the town’s guilty pleasure. They’d grown up in the same place where people with no other options landed. Christina’s father had been in jail, so her mother worked two jobs to pay the bills, leaving Christina in charge, and Leanne’s grandmother finished raising all but one of her absent son’s kids. Climbing on the big school bus of staring children had been easier with Leanne at her back. Being on the outside never got better, but at least they had each other. And all those good people gossiping in town? Sure, someone ought to do something to help Christina and Leanne, but it was more fun to talk about them behind their backs.

“Brett and them kids are eating out in town ever’ day,” Woody added, “getting lots of sympathy, you know?” Of course he was. Brett was the hero in the story.

That was another constant. Brett Hendrix was a good man, day in and out, without fail.

He also handed down pronouncements like a heavenly judge on high.

At seventeen, Leanne had done the smartest thing she could: gotten pregnant by the class president. Instead of pretending he didn’t know Leanne or weaseling his way out of any responsibility, Brett had proposed.

Marrying Brett had straightened Leanne out and Christina was able to finish high school and even two years at a community college. Things were okay, except Brett never wanted Christina around. At least Leanne had ignored his orders.

Until Leanne messed it all up. Drugs had nearly destroyed them all, but Brett had pulled Leanne out. For that reason, Christina would always consider herself a Brett Hendrix fan.

Even when he made her so mad she wanted to throw darts at a lifelike depiction of his handsome face.

Which was all the time lately.

“I better check my other tables, Woody,” Christina said, the sadness that rolled over her when she wondered what was going to happen to Leanne hard to ignore. Space would make it easier to build her shell again.

“Just come back to me. We can talk about your transportation. Be happy to give you a ride wherever. Retirement’s a true blessing, open schedule for days, don’t ya know.” Woody snapped a piece of charred bacon and chewed.

Christina picked up her order pad and her coffeepot. She moved between the tables, refilling and dropping checks off at tables as she went. There was usually a question about the easiest way to get back to Gatlinburg or where the fish were biting. Directions were easy. There weren’t many choices.

And she always gave the same answer about the fish. It didn’t matter. Fish were notorious for making liars out of people.

She approached the last table in the corner. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked as she slipped a ticket under the cup she was filling.