Page 56 of Violent Little Thing

“There’s still time.” I snickered. “Just keep your phones on. Mom, it’s probably great that you don’t have a job anymore. I might need immediate backup.”

“What’s her latest scheme?”

I told her about Court’s desire to completely cut her off from her family and force her into selling her shares. I told them about how, last week, the whole board of directors as well as a team of lawyers and a notary had been on standby for her signing a contract that she wouldn’t sell to anyone but family or directly to Court.

“If she was drunk off her ass,” Mom mused. “You should’ve just gotten her to sign away the business.”

“That’s what I said, too,” I admitted. “But Court said he wasn’t that big of an asshole. He wanted it fair and square. He wouldn’t stoop to her level.”

“You seem to like Court a lot,” Mom said.

“I do,” I admitted. “He’s grown on me.”

“Which is more than I could say from your first meeting with him.” Dad chuckled. “Are you still not talking to Pop?”

“I’m glad,” I admitted. “I don’t think that I would’ve really liked owning Pop’s. And I think that Kenny really does. He’s been doing it mostly on his own for months now, and he seems to be really taking to it.”

“Pop isn’t happy about that, either.” Mom laughed.

“He’s just mad that he couldn’t get us into a job market that we could breathe easy.” I shrugged. “But here’s the thing, if we wanted that kind of life, we’d have gone to school. Kenny didn’t, though, and neither did I. We shouldn’t be forced to do what Pop wants.”

“Agreed,” Mom said. “And that’s what I told him. But he’s stubborn. He thinks that he’s right, and everyone else is wrong.”

“Like someone else I know,” Dad teased, bumping my mom’s shoulder. “And don’t think you’re going to kiss me with that mouth later.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “I haven’t actually smoked it yet. I just lit it.”

“Uh-huh,” he said. “But that was the first step.”

True.

Mom and Dad hadn’t smoked in five years after Dad had a health scare. They’d both quit cold turkey, and I’d been so proud of them. But if there was ever a time to smoke, now was it.

Mom had loved her job.

She was likely beside herself.

“Dad, do you want to work there?” I asked. “Are you happy with your job?”

“I am.” Dad shrugged. “But I’m going to miss seeing your mother at lunch, and sharing a ride to and from work.” He looked at my mom, then at me. “She wants me to keep working there, but what’s the point? We’re both at retirement age. And I’ll make the same money if I’m working or if I’m drawing social security.”

“No more overtime, though,” Mom pointed out. “No great health insurance. No more health insurance for Charleigh, either.”

“Charleigh’s old enough to be paying her own,” Dad snorted. “Plus, she’s been paying me for years for it.”

Mom and Dad’s job was the one that’d been paying my health insurance for years. Normally, it cut off at twenty-five, but the plant covered all kids until they were thirty-five.

It was awesome.

“I can get my own,” I agreed.

“You can,” Mom said. “But why? Plus…I think I’m going to talk to them about taking that management job after all.”

“You hate management,” I pointed out.

“I know,” she said. “Hence the cigarette. I don’t want to be responsible for all those imbeciles, but I think that’s the point of them giving me that shove. They need management, and I wasn’t willing to take it. It’s never been my desire to have any power over anyone. But if that’s what they want…”

“You think they only said you couldn’t work the floor anymore because they wanted you in management, and it had nothing to do with your age?”