night. Especially for the big banquet on Christmas Eve."
"You expect me to work on Christmas Eve?"
"I need everyone here on Christmas Eve. Nobody's getting it off. Not for any reason."
Jess waited for Max to meet her gaze. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, ran his hand through his hair, and when he realized she hadn't given him an answer, finally looked up at her.
"I'm giving you my two-week notice, Max. I'll put it in writing by the end of the day."
Max's face paled. "Are you sure, Jess? IâI might be able to put you on days maybe one or two days a week."
"Sorry, Max. I can't work at night. Period. Not while Rory is still in school. He's already lost one parent. I'm not going to make him fend for himself. Itâs bad enough heâs alone for a few hours after school. But if I work one night a week, itâll become two nights, and before long Iâll be gone every night of the week. And Christmas Eve is definitely out. I wonât do it." Before she could change her mind, she turned and went to work.
She expected to feel panic set in, knowing she was giving up a source of steady income. She was quitting a job at the height of the holiday season. Had she lost her mind?
Maybe so. But she had to do it. Rory wasnât a baby, but he still needed her. She needed him. Besides, if she had to wait on tables at night, it would be more difficult to get up and drive the plow in the mornings. And the plowing business was quickly becoming her main source of income. They would get by. And after the New Year, maybe she could look for something else closer to home.
But right now, she had to get through this shift.
Chapter Ten
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Jess poured herself a cup of coffee and laced it with her favorite creamer. It had been on sale at the grocery story this week, and she'd splurged on a couple of different flavors. Today she opened a new one called Peppermint Candy. She poured it into the steaming liquid and watched as the white swirled into the brown, blending into a light tan color. Then she leaned over her mug and breathed in the enticing aroma.
It was Saturday, and she had some unexpected time off. Rory was gone for the day. He'd met some new friends at his church youth group, and one of them had invited him to an overnight party. She'd taken him to the boy's house last night, met the parents, and been assured he was in good hands. No snow had fallen since yesterday, so she didn't have to run her route. And the banquet she was supposed to serve had been cancelled.
Finally, she had a day to get caught up on chores. She decided to start with the worst job of allâtackling Rory's room. It had been a while since sheâd given it a thorough cleaning. She'd been in there to change his sheets and grab his dirty laundry, of course, but that had been all. No telling what sheâd find in there.
Finishing her coffee, she changed into her work clothes and tied her hair back. She took a deep breath at the entrance to Rory's room and set her shoulders. Then she opened the door.
And nearly fell backward from shock.
The first thing she took in was the floor. There was nothing on it that didn't belong. No clothes, either dirty or clean, littered the carpeting. Her gaze moved upward. The bed was made. Neatly. It would be a real shame to take it apart to change the sheets. She walked over to his closet and got another shock when she opened the doors.
His clothes hamper was full of dirty clothes, as well as the sheets she had put on his bed the previous week. He had actually changed the sheets himself! Did he know how? She glanced at the neatly made up bed. It looked decent. She couldn't resist checking. Yes, it was made up with clean sheets. When had he done that? It must have been after school yesterday, before she had gotten home from work.
She checked his dresser drawers. His clothes had been put away. His books lay on his desk in a neat pile. She opened the top one. It was a planner, provided by the
Learning to Kill: Stories