Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
“You did it,” I said with a grin.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” he said, his own lips twitching as he tried to hold back a smile.
“It’s a huge fucking deal,” I argued, making his smile appear. “You’re getting a big boy job.”
“I got into the apprenticeship,” he corrected. “I still need to find a company to work for.”
“Everyone’s going to want you.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“They’ll want the eye candy you bring to the company,” I assured him, laughing when his mouth dropped open in mock surprise.
“Is that all I am to you?” he joked. “A hot body for you to play with?”
“I mean, sure, you’re smart and funny and stuff,” I trailed off. “But have you seen that ass? Plumber’s ass is going to take on a whole new meaning.”
I watched him happily while the bed shook with his laughter. Jesus, I was proud of him. When he’d graduated from high school, he’d gone round and round with his parents about going to college. They thought he wasn’t going because he didn’t want to leave me. I had to admit, I’d worried about that, too. Richie had eventually convinced all of us that he wasn’t planning on college because he just didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to spend the next four years stuck in classrooms, his life on hold until he finished. He wanted to go into a trade, though he hadn’t been sure at the time which one. Sitting at a desk every day sounded like torture, and he wanted to work with his hands.
It had taken longer than he’d hoped to figure out what he wanted to do, but after two years of searching around, he’d finally decided.
“I have to go in next week,” he said, finally letting me up.
I sat up and straddled him as he bunched my pillow behind his head.
“When does school start?” I asked excitedly.
“I think she said the next one starts in like two weeks.”
“And then you’ll be plunging people’s toilets!”
“I think it’s a little more involved than that,” he replied dryly. “I’m hoping eventually I’ll be able to install whole systems in new construction, like apartments buildings and shit, you know?”
“Making sure people’s shit flows downhill,” I mused jokingly, nodding my head. “Yep. I get you.”
“Don’t worry, baby,” he said, patting my thigh. “I’ll still plunge your toilet when I’m big and successful.”
“I plunge my own toilet, thank you very much,” I replied primly.
“That’s not what you said when I had you bent over the desk the other day,” he joked.
“Wait, are we talking in euphemism?” I asked, pausing. “If so, I think you were cleaning my pipes when I was bent over the desk.”
Richie chuckled.
“So, now you need to apply for jobs.”
“So, now I apply for jobs,” he confirmed. “But from what the lady at the school said, plumbers are in pretty high demand, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find one.”
I leaned forward and kissed him, enjoying the way his five o’clock shadow rasped at my cheeks. “I’m so excited for you.”
“For us,” he corrected, pulling away slightly. “We’re a team, right?”
“Right,” I agreed, ignoring the small twinge in my chest.
CHAPTER 3
Aoife
The social worker didn’t show up again for over a week. I barely slept, listening for the sound of my mother sneaking out in the middle of the night. With every day that passed, I worried more about her ability to stay home and relatively sober. Thankfully, she didn’t start mixing her drinks until late in the afternoon and kept it under control until I’d gotten the youngest kids in bed. After that, she was a no-holds-barred mess of stumbling, ranting, weeping, and dancing until she passed out somewhere downstairs.
The kids were finally out of school for summer break, the fridge and cupboards were filled with groceries that I knew would be decimated long before I was ready to go shopping again, and Richie had come over to hang with us for the day when we finally got a knock on the front door.
“Shit,” I muttered, freezing as I glanced toward the door.
“Might not be her,” Richie murmured, wrapping his long fingers around the back of my neck consolingly.
“It better fucking be,” I replied, pulling away as I headed for the door. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep Mandy home. “Mom!” I yelled. “There’s someone at the door!”
My heart thudded in my chest as my mom came out of her room, thankfully fully dressed with brushed hair and lipstick. Running my eyes over her, I held back a grimace. She didn’t look good, she hadn’t in a long time, but at least she was sober.
“Well, open it,” she said, her tone completely neutral.
“Hi,” Judy said, smiling that fake smile at me again. “I came by last week—”
“Yeah, I remember,” I replied. “You want to talk to my mom?”