Rather than lie and say she had, she improvised with, “Peanut butter on crackers is great, right? Jelly will just make it better.”
Ryder bounced in his seat. “I wanna try, too.” Somehow, he’d already devoured half a sandwich.
Using her son like a taster, Joey gave him the first one. Ryder crammed the whole thing into his mouth, made “mm-mm” sounds, and gave them both a thumbs up before downing half his glass of milk.
With that endorsement, Joey tried her own – and agreed. “Tasty.”
Still unconvinced, Hendrix made one for himself.
He popped it into his mouth, chewed, and... Okay, not too bad. Picking up the knife, he cut his half sandwich into fourths and shared with Ryder again.
Having no idea what else to say, Hendrix ate in silence while Ryder talked about Christmas, how he wished it would snow on the beach, how awesome a real tree would be, how he planned to ask the Santa in town about getting a dinosaur for a gift, and the next art project he planned to work on. So many things that Hendrix couldn’t tune out.
The kid was full of exuberance, and Joey, despite the difficulties ahead, seemed genuinely happy. Unlike him, they focused on the remaining good, without dwelling on the bad. It was something he couldn’t do because the bad things that happened on Christmas were permanently burned into his brain.
Damn it, he couldn’t bear it. Now that he’d recalled it, all the air seemed to be leaving the room, forcing his lungs to labor. Godawful memories crowded in, turning the crackers in his mouth to dust until he struggled to swallow.
“Hendrix?”
He downed the glass of milk, hoping –praying– that Joey had more in the refrigerator. Abruptly, he pushed back the chair and stood.
Joey looked at him with worry, and in her eyes he saw something that closely resembled sympathy. Hell, no. He could pity her with her limited funds and lack of options, but no way would he allow her to lob the same at him. He turned to go.
Surprised, Ryder rushed to his feet. “Mr. Becker?”
Feeling like the biggest bastard alive, Hendrix took a step toward the door. “Sorry.” He needed to leave, to escape... but he couldn’t go like this, not with Ryder’s face pinched in confusion and Joey appearing so concerned. “Next time is my treat. How about pizza tomorrow?”
Ryder cheered.
After nervously licking her lips, Joey explained, “I’m tutoring late tomorrow. The rest of the week, actually.” When his gaze dipped to her son, she said, “Ryder will be with me, of course.”
How did she tutor with Ryder along? Now wasn’t the time to ask her. “I see.”
The tentative smile that touched her mouth put him even more on edge. “We could make it Saturday, unless you have plans?”
Yeah, his plans were to get back to isolation, to suffer through the holiday alone. Also, agreeing meant she’d be here the rest of the week.
But then, he already knew he wouldn’t force her out. Doing so would put her in an awful position. At least he’d have a few days to reconcile himself to the invasion. Or the possible moments of pleasure at having her and Ryder around.
Uncomfortable with that thought, he ran a hand over the back of his neck. “That would be fine. Six o’clock?”
She slipped her arm around Ryder, resting a maternal hand on his shoulder. “That works for us.” In an obvious ploy to make it as painless for Hendrix as possible, she said, “We’ll only be able to spare an hour, though. Is that okay?”
Hendrix didn’t bother asking why, he just accepted the lifeline. He could get through an hour. “Perfect.” When he opened the door, a gust of rain-scented wind refreshed him. The air he sucked in felt thick with the promise of a storm. Bad weather would suit his mood, but worry for Joey and Ryder chased away that sentiment.
He turned to her. “You have flashlights? Candles? In case a storm knocks out power? Even if it doesn’t, it’s going to be a dark night.”
Unreasonably stoic, at least to his mind, she lifted her chin and said, “We’ll be fine.”
The first sprinkles began to fall, so Hendrix nodded, started to pull the door shut, but turned back. “Thanks for inviting me, Ryder. It was nice.”
An ear-splitting grin filled the boy’s face. Dashing away from his mom, he grabbed Hendrix in an awkward, waist-high hug. “Yeah, it was real nice.”
Bending, Hendrix used one arm to embrace him back and wondered what else he should do.
Ryder stepped back to grin, showing off his missing tooth. “I can’t wait for pizza.”
In that case, Hendrix was glad he’d offered. Maybe he could insist they eat at his house – where Christmas didn’t dare intrude.
