Second Time's the Charm

“But you are now.”

“Yes.” She nodded once, slowly.

“Good, because I’d like to offer my services. In exchange for what you’re doing here for me. And Abe.”

“Your services?”

The idea had occurred to him during the hour she’d spent giving him back some semblance of control where his son was concerned. “I’ve got some skills, too. I’d like to offer them to you.” Especially now that he knew she lived alone. “For instance, do you have a sliding glass door?”

“Yes, why?”

“Does it have a security lock on it?”

“It’s got the lock on the door handle. I’m sure it’s secure.”

He shook his head. “There was a theft in town last night.”

“I heard. And I’m sure the thief, if he’s still around, will be caught.”

What was it about the people in this town? Did they have no street smarts at all? They didn’t live behind a locked gate. Shelter Valley was accessible from the highway. All kinds of people took the highway.

“I’d like to install a secure lock on your sliding glass door. If you’re okay with that.”

“Sure. It never hurts to be safe. I’ll pay you for it, of course.”

“You’re missing the point,” Jon said. “This is a trade-off. You help me with Abe and I’ll help you.”

Being in debt gave people control over you.

She eyed the uneaten food in his container. “But...”

Abraham held up a French fry, looked from Jon to Lillie, grinned and nodded.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Lillie grinned at the toddler.

Abe’s nod encompassed the entire top half of his body. And then, still grinning, he chewed, French fry showing between his teeth. He picked up another and handed it to Lillie.

“You want me to have it?” she asked, when Jon would have just taken the fry.

Abraham, studying her with seriousness now as he held out his gift, nodded again.

She took the potato from his sticky fingers, said, “Thank you,” and popped it into her mouth.

Abe went back to the sections of burger Jon had cut for his son, picking one up and taking a huge bite out of it. He chewed, swallowed and kicked his feet. It occurred to Jon that he looked like a healthy, happy, well-adjusted kid.

One who was communicating.

“Do you want a pickle?” Lillie asked the boy, picking up the discarded vegetable from her take-out container.

“No!” Abraham said emphatically.

Smiling, Jon looked across the booth at their gorgeous companion. “I don’t buy that Bonnie Nielson pays you to spend hours on Saturday with the parents of her clients,” he said. “Being at the day care, to help them adjust, makes sense, but this?” Sitting back against the booth, he motioned at himself and Abe and the food in front of them.

Lillie’s gaze dropped before she once again looked him in the eye. “You’re right. I’m on my own time.”

“I don’t accept charity.”

“I understand.” She gathered her trash together and Jon thought she might be about to walk out on them.