Page 28 of Not Looking
“Bye, Mamá,” Michelle said.
“Bye, Mamá,” Marco echoed.
They headed toward the door, and I followed.
“See you tomorrow, Yazmín,” I said as I stood on the threshold.
“Bye!”
The kids ran to my truck and hopped in as soon as I opened the door.
I was glad that they both weighed enough to be able to use just the lap belts, since my truck didn’t have the straps necessary for booster seats.
Though I wasn’t going to push my luck either. It wasn’t entirely legal for them to ride with me, but not illegal either. Trucks as old as mine were in a gray area that some cops didn’t care about.
To the movies, home for the night, then return them to Jessie and Yazmín in the afternoon.
Supplies were already up at the campsite—wood stacked and ready in the old brick firepit. The kids would help me raise the tent, and we’d stay up past their bedtime to watch fireworks over the lake.
The next generation would find magic on the land.
Chapter 8 - Craig
Oscar looked around, leaned on the counter, and grinned at me. “Got a little job for you.”
“Oh?”
“Need you to make a call and let a customer know that their order is ready.”
“I mean… sure… but don’t you like to call your accounts?”
He grinned. “This isn’t one of my accounts. And…” he paused to lean in, “you’ll want to call this customer.”
I raised an eyebrow.
He passed over an order slip. ‘Randy Quinn’ was scrawled in the space for the customer's name.
I groaned. “You too?”
He chuckled. “It’s been a few weeks since he’s been in, and that right there gives you a reason to call him. If you ask nicely, maybe you can even figure out when he plans to come to pick it up.”
“I hate you,” I grumbled, even as I slid the slip closer.
He laughed. “That didn’t sound like a ‘no.’”
“I’ll do it,” I growled. “I know y’all be assholes about it either way.”
He grinned. “You know it. But you’ll get to talk to Randy at least.”
“So he ordered something,” I snapped. “Gonna tell me what?”
Oscar laughed again. “He had us cut and kiln some wood for him—trees from his land. They’re ready for pickup.”
I blinked. “He… has us… do that?”
He nodded. “Yep. Has for a couple years. Apparently, he used to dry them himself, but now has us do it.”
“Do you know why?”
