Page 158 of Forged in the Fire
“Thank you, ma’am,” he mumbled, trying not to eye how much she was giving him because he didn’t want to be like that, but it was really difficult to stop himself.
Money was tight.
No matter how much his momma and Meems told him money didn’t matter, he could feel the stress rolling off them.
Could hear them muttering under their breaths about the rent being late again, and he didn’t think there could be enough coupons clipped in the world that would cover the cost of feeding him and his siblings, though he’d taken to sneaking the expired food his boss tossed into the dumpster each night into his backpack.
Most of it seemed decent.
His momma worked at the steakhouse almost every night, but it was the slow season for tourists, so the owner kept sending her home.
So Silas had taken it upon himself to pick up every extra shift that he could, and he made sure to walk every person out just in case they’d give him an extra tip.
He was pretty sure the thirty cents the old lady had given him wasn’t going to make a dent, but he figured she probably didn’t have a whole lot extra, either.
He made sure she was safely settled into the driver’s seat of her car before he turned to push the cart back toward the sliding door of the market.
The building was wood with a pitched roof like most of those around town, its awning painted red.
He was halfway there when he heard a rumble that made the hairs lift on the nape of his neck.
He knew that sound.
It was a sound that made his skin crawl.
He didn’t want to turn around when the truck came to idle behind him but, for some reason, he couldn’t stop himself.
He turned, and the passenger-side window was rolled down, his dad grinning at him through the opening. “There’s my boy.”
Silas wanted to scoff.
He wasn’t his boy. He didn’t want anything to do with him. Silas hadn’t seen him around town in at least a year. That was the way he wanted it.
“What are you doin’ spending your summer vacation slogging away here for?”
Silas didn’t answer him. His dad didn’t have any right to know what was going on with them. Not when he hadn’t given his momma a penny in all these years.
“Got something for your momma.”
Silas cringed, silently berating himself for even thinking about her in front of him, like maybe he’d plucked her face right out of his mind.
“She doesn’t want anything from you.” Silas hoped his voice didn’t shake when he said it.
“Ah, I’m pretty sure she’s gonna want this.”
Silas wanted to tell him to go to hell, but he got caught on the small paper bag his dad waved between them.
He looked around the parking lot, his thrumming heart rising to his throat, feeling like he was doing something illicit as he reluctantly edged forward and accepted the bag through the window.
The paper crinkled as he slowly peeled it open to look at its contents.
His stomach flipped over.
There had to be five hundred dollars inside.
“Whole lot more where that came from.” His dad paused like he was waiting for Silas to say something before he filled in the silence. “My boy shouldn’t be working at a place like this. Working his fingers to the bone without any reward. You gotta be smart like your old man.”
Smart was about the last thing Silas had ever considered his father, but he couldn’t deny the relief he felt at holding all that money.
