Chapter Three
Willow
Willow pulls off her little black apron and bundles it into her work locker, slamming and locking the metal door before dropping into a nearby plastic chair and counting her tips. They’d been short-staffed and overrun with customers all evening but judging from the paltry pile in her hand they weren’t feeling all that generous tonight. At this point she’s basically just working to pay the sitter. She just can’t seem to get ahead. Willow kicks at the bottom of her locker, the metal ringing her frustration as she pulls on her jacket and heads out the back door of the club to the bus stop.
Fifteen minutes later, Willow is wiggling her key in the lock and slipping quietly into her apartment. Olivia is on the sofa, engrossed in her phone, and Frank is pushing a plastic truck around and through the legs of the coffee table. Willow looks at the clock on VCR and swears quietly under her breath.
“Olivia,” she says, her voice high with fake sweetness, “why isn’t Frank in bed?”
“Mommy!” Frank flies across the room and flings himself onto Willow’s legs, wrapping his little arms around her knees. She smooths her hand across his hair before gently detangling him and giving him a little nudge toward his toy truck. “Mommy needs to talk to Olivia, honey.” He gives her kneecap a smacking kiss before toddling back to his play.
Olivia has stood up, her hip cocked, arms crossed. Light winks off the ring in her raised eyebrow. Everything about her screams attitude and Willow hasn’t even said anything to her yet.
“Olivia,” Willow starts patiently “I’ve asked you to please have him in bed eight-thirty. It’s almost nine-thirty now. I don’t ask you for much and he’s a well-behaved kid. Could you do that next time? Please?”
Olivia holds out her hand without answering. Willow sighs and drops a pile of bills into her outstretched palm, waiting as she quickly counts it.
“Yeah, you don’t pay me enough to bathe a kid.” Olivia ruffles the bills at Willow.
“What? You get most of MY tips every night!” Willow’s voice is rising and she tries to level down her volume when she sees Frank look over.
The sitter shrugs and sucks on her teeth. “Not my problem. You don’t pay me enough to do anything really. You don’t have cable or even any decent snacks. What am I supposed to do?”
“Um, how about you watch my son! You know, the job you get paid to do?” Willow’s temper is rising and she’s trying not to reach over and knock the girl off her feet.
“Whatever. I don’t even think I can keep coming back over here for this kind of money. I’m gonna need more, I think.”
“I don’t have more.”
The girl shrugs one shoulder and glances down at her phone. Willow’s head nearly explodes.
“It’s straight cash in your pocket! You don’t even pay taxes on it, I do! I don’t ask you to do much for it.”
Olivia gives her a blank look. “You gotta pay me more.”
Willow reaches over and snatches the door open. “I can’t. Don’t come back if you expect more pay.”
The sitter shrugs one more time and slouches out the door, head already bent over her phone, fingers flying across the screen before Willow slams the door shut behind her.
Damn it. Willow flips the locks closed and turns to find Frank staring at her. She crosses the room and sweeps him up, hugging him to her, breathing in his little-boy smell before carrying him to the bedroom and putting him to bed.
Willow watches as the clock crawls past 3:30 before finally picking up her phone and calling in to work. It’s pretty obvious to her at this point that the babysitter isn’t going to come back today. She listens with half an ear as her manager chews her out for missing a scheduled shift, peppering in an “Uh huh” and an “Mm hm” when it seems appropriate. There’s nothing she can do about it. No babysitter means no work. Simple as that. When she finally gets her manager off the phone and off her back she turns to Frank and gives him a big smile.
She picks up her phone and makes a call. Her mom had been calling her the last couple of weeks. Willow thought that it was strange. Her mom had had her young, when she was sweet sixteen. She never knew her father and on her third birthday she remembers her mom kissing her in the middle of the night saying that she’d be home soon.
That was the last time she saw her. The crazy part was that Willow didn’t think that she could recognize her if she saw her on the street. Her grandparents had raised her and she knew that if things got too much she could always go back home to them.
But there was one problem. Going back there could put them in danger; something that she never wanted to do. Calling them once a while and telling them she was safe was all Willow did. If they knew the truth they would try to help her. A risk that she wasn’t willing to take.
“Mommy gets to stay home tonight, sweetie.”
“Yay!” He dances around her feet, curls bouncing, happy at the prospect of a night home with Mommy.
“Come on, let’s go to the library and find another movie to watch and then we’ll cook dinner.” Willow gathers up her bag and slips a jacket onto Frank before heading down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk, Frank’s little hand in hers.
***
Later, Willow’s in her kitchen, staring at the amount of food she’s made. Meatloaf, potatoes, green beans, rolls; it’s far too much for just her and Frank. It will go bad before they can eat through it. She couldn’t help it, though, she really did love to cook but didn’t always have the opportunity to do it. Or the money. But today, thanks to one of the sweet librarians who had passed on a stack of coupons along with instructions on how to use them, Willow managed to buy more than she normally would have been able to afford and she couldn’t resist the chance the make a healthy, home-cooked meal for Frank.
Sighing, she heads into the living room to get Frank so he can wash up for dinner. When she flicks off her TV she hears the sound of a ball game coming from the other side of the wall. The neighbor’s up. Willow chews on the inside of her lip as she considers the wall. Sure, the guy had been surly the other day but he had helped her. The least she could do is offer him a decent meal. But he did give off a very “back-off” vibe. She had interrupted him though; she’d probably be a little short with some strange person showing up at her door asking for help, too. It wasn’t like she was bothering him for help again, she wanted to pay him back the best way she knew how. Before she can change her mind again, she grabs Frank by the hand and heads down the hall.
Willow takes a deep breath and knocks rapidly on Liam’s door. She smiles down at Frank as he sings a nursery rhyme under his breath, his little hand warm in hers. Her hand tightens on his when she hears boots clomping toward the door.
“Ow, Mommy.” Frank pulls his hand out of her Willow’s and gives her a pout.
“Sorry, sweetie.” She bends over and kisses at his knuckles. That’s when the door opens; when she’s bent over, butt in the air, making little kissy noises. Fabulous. She straightens and gives her neighbor a big, beaming smile. He’s staring at her like she’s gum on his shoe.
“Um, hi…again. I was just wondering...sweetie, hang on.” Frank is tugging at the tail of her shirt. “Anyhow, I just wanted to thank you for my sink…Frank, please stop…and wondered if…what?” Frank is pulling at her shirt, stretching the back and chanting, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy. Who’s that?”
Willow glances up at Liam and is shocked to see what she swears is a smile playing around the edges of his lips. How did she not notice that last time? They’re nicely shaped, the bottom lip just slightly pouty.
She clears her throat. “This is our neighbor, Liam. And we’re here to invite him to dinner as a thank you for fixing our sink.”
“Okay.” Frank straightens up and squares his little shoulders before sticking out his hand. “How are you? I’m Frank.”
Willow sees Liam’s lips quirk before he schools his face back into a serious expression. He leans down and pumps Frank’s hand in a vigorous handshake. “Nice to meet you, Frank.”
“So, what do you say, dinner? We’ve got way too much for just the two of us.” She gestures back down the hall to her door. “We’d love it if you could join us.”
Willow feels her face burn as Liam’s eyes rake over her, trailing from head to toe. Suddenly, she’s acutely aware of her thrift-shop clothes. And is that…? Yes, a stain from dinner on the bottom of her t-shirt. She tries to rub at it inconspicuously. She shifts back and forth from foot to foot wondering if this was such a good idea after all.
“I don’t think so,” he finally answers.
“Oh. Oh, well…okay.” Willow shuffles backward, her hands on Frank’s shoulders as she tries to turn him back down the hall. She wasn’t sure what she expected but she didn’t think he’d turn down a free meal. She’s surprised to find that she’s more disappointed than she expected.
Frank slips out from under her hands and bounces back over to Liam. “Hey, come eat at my house. We can play trucks if you want.”
“No, sweetie. Come on.” Willow tugs on Frank but Liam holds up a hand and drops down into a crouch, eye to eye with Frank. Willow steps back and watches as this guy, who’s never been anything but curt with her, smiles brightly at her son and talks to him like they’re the best of friends.
“You really want me to come over, little man?” Liam asks.
“Yeah, come on.” Frank reaches out and tugs on Liam’s hand.
“Okay,” he glances up at Willow “I’ll be over shortly then.”
“Cool!” With that Frank turns and skips back to their door.
Willow is fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “If you don’t want to, I understand.”
“I said I would. I wouldn’t want to disappoint the boy. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be over.”
“Okay then. See you shortly.” Willow backs down the hallway, stopping in her doorway, glancing inside. Frank is already zooming his truck around the sofa. “See you,” she says again, before slipping inside and closing the door. Her heart is pounding as she leans back against the door. What just happened? Had Frank softened up the tough guy or had that just been a front? Willow chews on the inside of her cheek and glances down at her worn shirt before heading to the bedroom. No harm in looking decent for dinner company, right?