“I’ll be back next week with more. Probably shouldn’t tell your momma where you got that, but I’m trusting that you make sure she gets it.”
It was the first time Silas thought maybe his dad had something good in him, giving him this and thinking about their family.
“I will,” he finally managed.
“That’s my boy,” his father said before he drove away.
A clatter of voices and laughter carried through the small house as Silas stepped through the door.
He scuffed the mud off his boots before he went clomping into the kitchen.
“Silas! You’re home!” Elena ditched the big bowl of dough she was working with her hands, jumping off the small stool where she stood beside Meems.
She threw herself against him, the way she did every time he came home.
His chest felt full as he hugged her back. “Hey, Lena.”
“How was your day? Did you make a lot of money? Meems and I are making cherry pie for dessert. We know it’s your favorite.”
Elena’s head was up to his waist, his little sister getting ready to turn eight.
Meems hummed from where she swayed at the counter. “That’s right. We figured our Silas has been working hard all day, so he deserves a special treat.”
Unease rolled through his stomach, the money he had hidden at the bottom of his backpack feeling like it weighed a hundred pounds. He swallowed it down and ignored it.
“What do you think?” Elena beamed.
“I think it’s the best surprise ever,” he told her.
She laughed before she went blazing back to their grandmother’s side and climbed onto the short stool so she could reach.
“Hi, Silas!” Brody came running into the kitchen, two Transformers in his hands. “You want to play?”
“Give your brother a minute to relax, Brody. He’s been working outside most of the day and he needs a little breather,” Meems instructed.
“Ah, man,” Brody whined.
Silas roughed his fingers through his little brother’s hair. “How about after I take a shower we go play ball out front?”
“Deal!” Brody went running right back out.
Meems tsked. “That boy has so much energy he’s liable to tear down the house.”
Chuckling, Silas shuffled the rest of the way into the kitchen and pecked a kiss to Meems’s cheek.
“Missed you,” she said.
His chest tightened as he dipped into the fridge and pulled out the almost empty bottle of orange juice.
One he’d snagged from the dumpster two days ago.
“Missed you, too. Where’s Mom?” he mumbled.
“Getting ready for her shift.”
He spun the cap off the bottle and tossed the whole thing back, guzzling down the cold juice in three big gulps.
He sent Meems a big grin when he saw that she was giving him the side-eye. “Already almost empty,” he said, tossing it in the trash before he ducked out and went wandering down the hall toward his mother’s room at the back.
