Helen fought not to roll her eyes. That was her problem? That she’d been out hiking and having fun, and she’d gotten a little poison oak? Poor thing.
Not.
“Is that the one other problem?” Because if it was, boy could she tell Laura about problems.
People who had family didn’t get it. They talked about troubles, but how bad could it be if you had family around to share it with? People who loved you and could catch you if you fell.
She wanted to smack the girl upside her head, to make Laura wake up and appreciate what she had. Because all she had was a no-good, no-show of a husband and a mom who got in touch only when she needed cash.
She had her beautiful kids, sure, but she refused to share her burdens with them. If anything, she protected them more than ever. Especially Luke—as her eldest, he was trying to act like the man of the house, and rather than comfort her, mostly it made her feel shame. Her children should’ve been able to act like children, not taking on adult concerns before their time.
That there was a problem. Not an itchy rash that’d pass in a few days.
“I need you to do my shift,” Laura said. “I can barely move with these legs. ”
Edith’s face pinched with concern. “You need calamine, honey. ”
Laura nodded. “I’m going to put some on and get back in bed. ”
What Helen wouldn’t do for a day in bed. Instead she said, “Sure thing. I’m happy to pick up an extra shift. ” What else did she have to do, anyway? She didn’t need to rest. Unable to look at Laura anymore, she went to her station at the end of the bar and began to refill the ketchups.
“Cool, you can just stay on. ” Laura glanced at the clock over the bar. “The early birds should start trickling in soon. ”
“Actually, I’ll need to run out and get the kids. Drop them at home. ” She hated leaving them to fend alone for dinner. Hated leaving them alone at night. But she knew Luke would hold down the fort. He’d make sure everyone took their baths and did their homework. She’d splurge and give him cash enough to order a pizza.
“That reminds me,” Laura said. “I made flyers. ” She caught her mom’s eye. “Would you grab them? I think I left them in the house kitchen. ”
“Flyers?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a petition going to stop construction at the old ranch. I’d love it if you put them up at your kids’ school. Or, wait, they’re in two schools, right?”
“Day camp for summer. ”
“Same thing, right?”
She nodded tightly. Why explain?
But it did put her in mind of the fall. Two schools meant twice the work. Until next year, when Emmett would start middle school, and she’d need to figure out how to get them to three different schools.
She supposed she could put them on the bus, though in a rural school district as sparsely populated and far-reaching as theirs, it’d mean getting out the door a full hour and a half earlier each morning.
Either way, soon they’d need to scrap all their extracurricular stuff until Luke was old enough to get his learner’s permit. Just the thought of that gave her chills.
“Even better. Thanks, Helen. ”
She didn’t recall saying yes, but she didn’t see as she had any other choice. But that was how Helen operated. She was a hard worker—always had been.
Unlike Laura, who was a wuss. Laura, who’d been taken care of her whole life. Laura couldn’t deal with a little itchy skin. A week off in bed, well good for her.
The bell dinged as a good-looking stranger walked in. What she wouldn’t do for a week in bed with a fine man like this.
With her husband.
She gulped back the pang and greeted him, grabbing a menu and gesturing to a booth in the corner. Helen gave him her biggest smile, thinking she knew all about itches she couldn’t scratch.
Fifteen
Laura had spent the past couple of weeks scratching, writhing, fuming, but mostly she’d been hiding. Not that she couldn’t deal with a stupid thing like poison oak, but she couldn’t bear to see Eddie—at least not until she could wear shorts again without worrying that she resembled a leper.