Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Are you okay?”
I don’t know what it is about me, but people always talk to me, whether I want them to or not.
But this time, I was more than okay with her opening the floodgates on me.
“I’m just overwhelmed.” She sniffled, her eyes going to her baby. “I had him three months ago, and today I made an appointment with my doctor because I think I have post-partum depression. I went, and she said that I indeed do have PPD. When I got home, I went to tell my husband, but I found my baby sitting beside him crying his eyes out, smeared in poop, with my husband playing his video games with his headphones on. I’ve asked him so many times for help, yet he says that ‘I’m on maternity leave, and he still has to work, and this is my responsibility.’ I don’t know what happened, though. He was great before we had the baby. But the moment we had Holt, it’s like my husband just flipped a switch. He works from home all day. Then when he gets off at five, he immediately puts those stupid headphones on and starts playing his video games. And I’m left to do it all. I finally broke down today and just had to leave so I wouldn’t smash that stupid computer of his into the ground.”
Anger rose within me, and I was hot for a woman I barely even knew.
What an asshole!
“And he keeps saying that I’m not giving him sex, and that I should be fulfilling his needs if I want his help in the middle of the night.” She sniffled some more. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“You got family?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “But if I tell them how Joey has been acting, they’ll lose their shit.”
“This is heartfelt and all, but can I get the fuckin’ check?”
Taryn.
The ass.
He was standing directly behind me, and I nearly throat punched him when his raised voice startled the baby that I’d just laid down.
I gritted my teeth when he started to cry.
Poor little guy.
I turned and said, “You come in every freakin’ week and order the same thing. It has been eleven seventy-five since before you started coming here.”
Taryn narrowed his eyes just as the jingle started on the door again.
I looked up to see Tony walking toward the coffee pot to fill up his own cup.
I turned away and said, “If you truly need a handwritten ticket, I’ll write you one.”
He curled his lip up at me. “I do.”
I picked up the baby again and tried to soothe him as I went to write a handwritten check.
Which, of course, Taryn had cash ready.
Eleven seventy-five exactly.
“Thanks.” I rolled my eyes, thinking of all the stupid refills I’d gotten him.
I should’ve just delivered his food and nothing else.
I mean, it wasn’t like he was going to tip me anyway.
“She needs a tip.”
I looked up to see Scottie giving Taryn the stink eye. “The check is for eleven seventy-five. Standard tip is usually fifteen to twenty percent. You left her zero percent.”
“What?” Tony asked as he came over.
“Dad…” Taryn said.
“I taught you better than that,” he said. “How long have you not been leaving a tip for?”
Taryn stayed silent, but it was my lucky day.
Though I would’ve never brought this up on my own, I would always defend myself.
“He never leaves a tip,” I chirped as I got the large group a set of refills.
They smiled just as their order came up in the window.
I took their orders one by one as I listened idly as Tony berated his son.
Just as I got back for the last plate, Taryn angrily slapped down a lottery ticket and said, “Here. Maybe you’ll win the lottery.”
Then he stormed out.
I picked the lottery ticket up and placed it in my apron, patting Tony’s shoulder as I passed.
“Sorry, Searcy,” he apologized. “I think his mother ruined him. Wish I would’ve divorced her before it got that bad with our son, though.”
I smiled and handed over the last plate of food, then went back to talk to the haggard looking mother.
“So,” I said casually. “What’s the deal with your husband? And why are you worried about your family?”
She spent the next twenty minutes explaining everything that there was to know about her family history, not leaving a single thing out. Then she moved on to her husband, and how he’d changed over the last three months since their baby was born.
“The doctor suggested that maybe he was suffering from post-partum depression, too. But I don’t think that’s it. The week or so leading up to Holt’s arrival, he started getting really weird about me being in the same room with him. Though, if I’m honest, it’s been even longer than that, but I just refused to see anything but hearts and flowers.” She sighed.