“There’s nothin’ else they can do?” Parting his hair, she went to work. “What about another surgery?”
“Ma, we’ve been over this. Another surgery may cause even more problems, and there’s a chance I might get paralyzed.”
“I just don’t like to see you in pain.” She’d had it tough, raising Jax as a single mother. While she had exceptional talent as a hairstylist, they’d been on the edge of poverty for most of his life, but she now had a tiny salon that was her pride and joy.
Yet she still did Jax’s hair in the kitchen like he was eight years old.
“And I don’t want tobein pain. That’s why I’m trying PT one more time.” And he’d keep going back as long as Hot Bearded Guy was there.
“Good.” She tilted his head, carefully working around his ear. “How can I help?”
“You already do enough, Ma.” Reaching up, he patted her arm, glad that he had his mother. Tough with a heart of gold, she could scare a man twice her size with a single look, even though she was only five-foot-three.
“I wish I could do more.” She peeled off her gloves. “While this sits, we can munch on some antipasto!”
Getting to his feet, Jax released the pressure on his back. It was behaving for now, but he’d have to take an extra cannabis gummy at bedtime. While better than narcotics, marijuana didn’t dull his pain; it just distracted him until he zonked out.
“The guy at the deli’s been flirtin’ with me,” his mother stated, tucking a strand of dark-brown hair behind her ear. “He gives me the good salami.”
Jax raised an eyebrow. “Like, to eat or-”
“Jaxon Gianni Fiorelli, watch your mouth!” She play-slapped his arm and he chuckled, grabbing some provolone.
“Heshouldgive you the top-shelf salami.” He bent at the knees, awkwardly kissing her on the head. “Only the best for my Ma.”
She grinned, checking the lift and setting the timer over the stove. “How’s the restaurant?”
“Terrible.” He loathed working at the toxic and pretentious upscale bistro, but it provided decent health insurance, which allowed Jax to see doctors and go to physical therapy. While his experience got him into kitchens, either his back had him calling out or his temper burned bridges.
And if he lost this job, then he’d have to cast a wider net and probably move.
“In what way, hun?” She paid him her undivided attention, concern and warmth spilling from her, which was why he’d never missed his fathergrowing up.
“The owner’s a jackass,” he huffed, the burn of anger snaking through his veins. “He keeps putting his hands on the waitresses.”
His mother frowned, a lighter version of his fury in her brown eyes. “Do I need to stop by?”
“I got it handled. But it isn’t just that. There are a lot of things wrong with the place.” Breathing in deeply, he tried not to grit his teeth around the barbell in his tongue. “I could make it more efficient, give Russel some ideas, but he’s never wrong and doesn’t take input.”
“He sounds lovely.” His mother’s sarcasm should be studied.
Jax gave her a look that told her he agreed. Even thinking about that place irritated him, and he shook out his legs, preparing to sit again.
After his carefree partying existence as a student, he felt like he was living on expert mode, and most of the time he just wanted to lie down. But if he did, he’d have to put a pillow between his knees and make sure that he didn’t curl too much in his sleep.
Yeah, he really hated his life.
The timer dinged behind him, and his mother joyfully clapped her hands together. “Okay, let’s rinse!”
2
TRISTAN
Whywastheworldso loud?
Tristan winced as the beep of a truck in reverse cut through his head while a car without a muffler passed by, its obnoxious sputtering echoing down the street.
He missed getting up in the middle of the woods where all he heard was birdsong and all he had to do was walk. Thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail had been the adventure of a lifetime, and even though Tristan had been back for over a month, he still felt like a fish out of water. A fish with knee pain.
