Saving The Single Dad. Cheryl Harper
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and years of neglect had done nothing to improve the place. Over the years, the cabin had been updated here and there, but it was only a roof over her head. She’d had dreams of moving into town, getting one of the apartments springing up around the edges.
Now she’d have to buy a car.
As she walked into the Branch, she had her spiel all worked out. Instead of waiting for her to launch into it, the owner, a tough cookie named Sharon, snapped, “You’ll work for tips.” Late afternoon was a slow time for the large open building that served beer for the fishermen, white wine for their wives and a plain, tasty menu with reasonable prices. If the campground diner had plenty of charm, thanks to the natural beauty outside the large windows, the Branch had space. That was about it. Of course, after the sun went down, the crowd got rowdier and neon lit up the walls.
When she was young, Christina had loved it.
Now she was certain she didn’t want to know why the floor was so sticky.
“I’ll work for tips.” Grateful, Christina caught the apron and said, “And a ride home at the end of the night.”
Sharon narrowed her eyes. “Fine. I better stop drinking.” She waved her usual mug of root beer and cackled like she’d made the most original joke in history.
Sharon never drank. But she owned a bar. Nothing Christina had ever done had convinced Sharon to tell her how that disconnect happened, not that it mattered. After a few dumb choices as a teenager, Christina was pretty firmly up on the no-alcohol bandwagon herself.
When she considered how nice it would be to have an escape at the moment, it was easier to understand Leanne’s struggle.
“Better limber up your slappin’ hand. The crowd seems restless lately, what with winter looming.” Sharon handed her an order pad, a tray, and pointed her at a dark corner. “Haven’t cleared the last table yet. While we’re slow, see if you can make some progress. Any money you find is yours.”
Since the bar wouldn’t pick up for a couple of hours, there was no rush, but Christina was happier working than sitting around worrying about Leanne. After she finished clearing the table, which, judging by the leftovers and the generous tip, had come from tourists with a nice-sized bankroll, Christina caught the burger basket Sharon slid down the bar. “Better eat while you can. Keep up your strength.”
Instead of arguing or offering her the tip money, which would have covered the most popular item on Sharon’s menu, Christina took a bite of the greasy burger and sighed. Sometimes, life could get her down, but junk food renewed her spirits.
“Hear you’re having a rough go.” Sharon wiped the glasses at her elbow in assembly line fashion before stacking them. “You gonna pull out of it soon? I didn’t hold your job, but I’ll toss the new girl out if you’re coming back full-time.”
“Unless you’re running a shuttle, I better stay out at the campground for now,” Christina said slowly.
Sharon leaned against the counter. “Pretty girl like you, you could do better than either that place or this one. Find you a nice, decent man, settle down.”
“I’ve seen how far that gets a pretty girl, Sharon. I’ll keep working, thanks.” Christina shoveled french fries in her mouth and tried not to think of her mother or Leanne, or even the dumb things she’d done to try to make some man love her enough.
Looks might catch a guy’s interest, but she’d never succeeded in hooking the right kind of man.
“Beau was no loss, honey. You should have seen the fight he started in this place. Ugly temper.” Sharon shook her head. “Older guy. One with some miles on him, but an appreciation for a pretty smile and some brains. That’s what you need.”
Beau had never been about forever. He’d been about distraction and wanting to pretend someone cared about what happened to her. He’d fixed that about three minutes after Leanne had shown up and told him she was ready to take him up on his offer.
If that was what happened. The timing could have been pure coincidence.
She needed to stop listening for the bits of gossip she picked up during the morning rush.
More than that, once she got her car keys back, she needed to lock up the cabin and hit the road. There was nothing left for her here anymore. Leanne didn’t care enough about her, either.
Parker’s sweet face flashed through her mind. Whatever Leanne had screwed up in her life, her son was so kind and genuine that he was impossible not to love more than life itself. Saying goodbye to Sweetwater and the gossip and Leanne’s mistakes would mean missing out on Parker’s future.
But if Brett had his way, she’d miss most of it anyway. There had to be a path to pull the family back together. Maybe Brett was better off without Leanne. There was no maybe to it, especially if Leanne had slipped into her old ways.
Could Leanne ever be healthier or happier without Brett? Was running away her attempt at finding out?
But her kids... Didn’t they need to know her?
Christina had spent most of her life with no father, but losing her mother... She gulped and tried not to choke on the last bite of hamburger. Grief still blindsided her sometimes. Both Riley and Parker needed a mother in their lives.
But what if she only brought them drama and disappointment? What then? Were Parker and Riley better off learning to live without Leanne?
Sharon snatched the burger basket off the bar and slid a root beer toward her. “Can’t tell what you’re thinking, but you’re burning brain cells. Take a few hours away from the worry.”
Sharon was right. Nothing she plotted could change Tuesday night at the Branch.
Part of the answer was easy enough. Brett was the key to everything. If she wanted to see Riley and Parker, or get Leanne some contact with her kids, which might help stabilize her, she had to work on Brett.
Apparently, he was traveling. That might give her some time for inspiration.
When the first group of tourists chattered over the threshold, fishermen fresh off a day on one of the local rivers or lakes by the looks of them, Christina tied a knot in her T-shirt to make sure her curves were easy to see, picked up her tray and put some swing in her step.
The rest of the night was a blur, and she was grateful Sharon kept her word about the ride home when Sharon’s truck stopped in front of her cabin with a loud groan. “Twenty minutes out of my way,” Sharon grumbled as Christina slowly got out of the truck.
“For nearly eight hours of free labor,” Christina said as she stretched her legs and felt the solid weight of the cash in her pocket. “Can I do it again Friday?”
Sharon snorted. “Yeah. Still think you ought to find yourself a honey, get married and set up house somewhere.”
Christina waved and unlocked the cabin door. One solid slam of her shoulder against the wood opened it with a loud squeak.
If she stayed in Sweetwater, she should think about fixing up the place.
With all her spare money lying around, taking up space, that is.
Once inside, Christina dropped down on the couch, toed off her shoes and draped one arm over her face. Getting to the campground on time would mean an early morning, but the extra cash she’d earned tonight was a nice start on the new car fund.
Before she could make herself brush her teeth or wash her face or peel off the gross clothes she’d been wearing through bacon grease and spilled beer, Christina was asleep. Only the alarm on her phone saved her from missing her shift at the restaurant completely. Running late, she hustled up the mountain.
When Woody rolled to a stop next to her, she nearly cried with relief. Every conversation starter Woody launched, Christina shot down, until she finally said, “Need my caffeine, Woody. I’ll talk to you after the first cup.”
He saluted with