The Littlest Boss

“Ready to go, darling?”

“Yes.” Lily looked up at her grandmother. “Can we get ice cream on the way home?”

Vivian lifted a hand to point at Tiana. “Ask your mother.”

Tiana tilted her head up to catch her mother’s gaze. Dipping her head in a quick nod, she stood. “We can go get some sorbetto, that’s better than ice cream,” she said, taking Lily’s hand in hers. As they made their way out of the building, Tiana hooked an arm around her mother’s waist for a quick squeeze.

“It’ll be all right,” Vivian said.

That made her smile. That was her mother’s answer to everything. A broken nail. A bad grade. A dead car battery. A flat tire at midnight in the middle of nowhere. Tornado. Hurricane. Exploding septic tanks. It’ll be all right. And it usually was. Except the exploding septic tank. That hadn’t been all right at all.

* * *

DESHAWN HAD SPENT most of Monday morning out at the former Charleston Naval Base, which was now being repurposed into private and industrial usage. The building of a railway extension to serve a shipping container facility included moving two major highway intersections. And moving two intersections meant a lot of data gathering. Even the best coat and hat couldn’t protect against the winter cold seeping in after several hours outside.

He was more than happy to return to his desk at the headquarters and, once he thawed out his fingers, upload all the information into the computer, where he could prepare it for presentation.

“What’s the grin for?” his office mate asked as he returned from lunch.

DeShawn shook his head. He hadn’t realized he was smiling. “Just happy to be out of the cold,” he said.

That was only part of the truth. He couldn’t believe he’d done it. Sometimes, he’d stop and look around, completely stunned that this was his life now. He had his degree. He had an awesome job. He loved the orderliness of it. Data. You gathered it. You put it together, you applied it to your project. Adjust as necessary. Simple. Factual. Same with the rest of his life. Simple. Orderly. No crazy family creating drama. Tiana’s face flashed in his mind’s eye and he felt a little tug of disappointment. He really wanted her involved in his project. He’d have to figure out a way to change her mind. How, he had no clue.

“I wouldn’t complain. Wait until July and August.”

“Not complaining. Not at all.”

He returned to the task at hand. He wouldn’t complain about surveying in the heat of the summer either. Well, not too much. His cell phone buzzed from inside the top desk drawer where he’d stashed it. Pulling it out, he saw an unknown number. The happy feeling he’d been riding fell away. He swiped left on the screen to reject the call. That was the past. Momma G had made him swear to finish his degree and he had. He’d busted his ass to get out of there and now that she was gone, he had no reason to ever go back. They could call a billion times and he wasn’t going to answer. Drawing in and letting out a long, slow breath, he refocused on the job in front of him.

Later though, as he sat in traffic on the commute home, a thought exploded in his mind. What if it had been Tiana? Mickie had said she was thinking about the school project. Curiosity piqued, he reached for his phone at the next red light. Thumbed through to listen to the voice mail. It was a woman, but it wasn’t Tiana.

“Hi, DeShawn. My name is Gretchen and I am your mother’s sponsor in Narcotics Anonymous...”

He hit Delete before he could hear any more. Damn it. Now she’s giving out my name and number to other druggies? Slamming his hand against the steering wheel only fueled the frustration and anger. Why can’t they leave me alone? As traffic started moving, he merged into the right lane with a halfhearted wave in apology to the person he’d sort of cut off. Pulling into a parking spot in a strip mall, he put the car into Park and wiped at his face with both hands.

Maybe if he just talked to them. If he told them to go away, would they? He could be the bad guy. In fact, he’d willingly be the bad guy if it meant he was finally done with them. Staring without seeing out into the passing traffic, he became acutely aware of the anger that was coursing through his body. All the happiness and satisfaction with himself and his life were gone. Wiped away by a single phone call. He had to deal with this.

He needed to talk to Sadie. Now. Before this got out of hand. Looking around, he got his bearings. He’d driven all over the Charleston area in his four years as a member of the Cleaning Crew. Drop him anywhere and he could be back at the Crew office in less than fifteen minutes. Well, in this traffic, maybe thirty.

It was twenty. He glanced at his watch. As he pulled around to the parking lot on the side of the house, his stomach dropped. Sadie’s car wasn’t there. Now what? Go to the gym and run until you’re too tired to think about this anymore? A movement at the back door caught his attention. Molly. She locked the door behind her and turned to peer at his car over the tops of her glasses. He rolled down the window.

“DeShawn!” she called out in delight as she crossed the small lot to greet him.

He climbed out of the car to give her a hug. Just seeing her face made him feel better. If Sadie was a big sister figure to him, then Molly was certainly his substitute grandmother. Short, round, white hair, constantly reading romance novels at her desk, but she missed nothing. She could go from sweet grandmotherly love to drill sergeant tough in a heartbeat.

“I was looking for Sadie,” he said as he stepped back.

“Oh, it’s PTA night,” Molly said with a self-satisfied grin.

“PTA?” Parent-teacher thing?

“Exactly,” Molly said with a knowing smile, “Parent-Teacher Association. She’s at the elementary school with Wyatt and his daughter.”

He stared openmouthed at her. Sadie? At an elementary school meeting? “I... I,” he stuttered. He shook his head. “I can’t even process that information.”

Molly laughed. “It’s mind-boggling. What did you need, honey?”

It came back to him, cutting short the humor. “Nothing really. To talk.”

He felt her gaze on him but couldn’t quite meet it. She had a way of knowing things. “Well,” she said. “I was going to hop on the bus, but if you aren’t hurrying off anywhere, would you give an old lady a ride home?”

“Of course,” he said. Why hadn’t he known Molly rode the bus to work? He felt a little ashamed of himself. He and the guys should have been giving her rides home every day.

“Thank you. And I put a nice pot roast in the slow cooker this morning. If you’d like, there’s plenty for two.”

He followed her directions into the cozy Byrnes Down neighborhood. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Same pot roast I made for First Friday dinners.”

That made him smile. On the first Friday of the month, Sadie and Molly would cook up a huge dinner for all the Crew members. It was family time.

“I’m also a fairly good listener,” Molly added.

“Okay. I can’t pass up your pot roast.”

“Good, you’re looking a bit skinny.”

At the front door, Molly turned to him. “Mind your step. Wee furry ones everywhere.”

“What?”

As he followed her into the tidy cottage-sized house, he was surrounded by tiny mewling kittens. One, two, three, four... “Molly? Are you a crazy cat lady?”

Ten. There were ten of them. And one grown-up cat slinking along a wall.

“Heavens, no! I’m a foster home for pregnant mommy cats. They stay with me until they have their babies and then go out for adoption when the kittens are old enough. I usually only do one litter at a time, but there was an emergency placement and I ended up with two momma cats and all their kittens.”

A tugging on his pant legs made him look down. Three of the tiny beasts were climbing him like a tree. As he bent to pick them off, two more started up his other leg. “I’m under attack!”

Molly’s laugh rang out and with a tug at his heart he realized how much he’d missed her. She was basically a white version of Momma G. “Let me get some cat food. They’ll leave you alone then.”

He followed her into the kitchen and sat at the small dining table while she attended to the cats. He’d never seen so many kittens in one place before. The mewling rose in pitch as the food was being prepared then complete chaos as they fought for a spot on the platters.

Molly sat beside him once she was finished. “Want one?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“They’ll be ready for adoption in a month or so.”