Page 50 of Wolf

“Please, calm down,” Asha says, speaking calmly herself, which makes me realize I was shouting.

I stand up and start pacing. The little porch isn’t big enough for that, so I begin to walk in a circuit around the house.

“Here’s his angle. You quit your job at the bakery, making Malcolm’s income your only source of money. You left your home suddenly. You’re spending time around a bunch of bikers and delinquents. You don’t have your own living space and where you are right now isn’t fit for habitation, and you have been the target of harassment.” Asha sounds as if she’s reading my sins and transgressions from a list. Those must have been all the reasons she got from Malcolm’s lawyer, the signs of inability and instability that will be used against me. Or ones that she figured out for herself, based on everything I’ve told her.

“None of that means anything.” I’m burning all over. I’m not shouting anymore, not out loud. Inside, there’s nothing but yelling in my head, every thought an anguished scream. “And he’s the one who’s been harassing me!”

“You haven’t gone to the police to report that.”

I stop in front of the house, having made a full circle. I don’t have anything to say to that. In my attempt to stop things from getting worse, I have made them awful.

“If you go now, it’s going to look motivated.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I’m staring in through the window at the living room, at my son and mother snoozing so peacefully.

“Do you know Artie’s father? One option is—”

“No.” I cut her off, and then I lie by telling the truth. “Artie’s father is someone I was in a short relationship with long before I met Malcolm, before I left Helena. We broke up. He doesn’t know. He’s not going to be involved in this.”

“Okay. Right now, you don’t do anything. I’m going to get as much information as I can and then put a plan together for us. You’ll have to come to my office for that, I think.”

“Yes, okay.” I pull in a shaking breath. “I am not a perfect mother, but I am a good mother. Artie belongs with me. I won’t let him be taken away from me.”

“And I won’t let him be taken.” Asha’s voice goes from lawyerly, to sisterly. Woman to woman, she says, “Right now you just have to focus on being the best mom you can be. Go give your son a hug. I’m going to see how we can fight this.”

“I will.”

I hang up on her and resist the urge to throw my phone. I hold onto it tight, tight, until the plastic casing creaks. I keep staring in at my boy, whose whole world will be turned upside down if he’s taken away from his mother. And my own mother, she’ll shatter, too. I’m sure that Artie being around has been part of what’s helped her so much. He’s so bright and cheerful, a light in all our lives.

Tears blur my vision. My eyes unfocus. That’s when I see the figure standing behind me, his reflection overlapping mine.

I spin around, my hand flying to my throat, not because I don’t know who it is, but because I do.

Wolf holds two bags of takeout food, one in either hand. The bags bear the name of the Helena Diner. He brought us lunch.

I should have heard him approaching on his bike and felt him walking up behind me. I was too distracted by the phone call, too deep in my pain, to sense anything outside of myself.

The expression on his face almost kills me. He looks less like a man and more like a child staring up at a boogeyman, a murderer.

I don’t understand though. Who did I kill?

Suddenly, the conversation I had with Asha plays back through my mind. She asked about Artie’s father. And I said…

I get it now.

I just did to Wolf what Malcolm has done to me, destroying what he thought he knew and believed with only a handful of words. I am a murderer of knowledge. Words are my weapon, the knife I plunged into the heart of understanding.

I don’t know what to do or say. I stand there and wait for Wolf to make the first move, knowing that whatever he decides, it’s what I deserve.

Chapter 21

Wolf

Bouncers ain’t servers. We don’t get tipped for doing our jobs. Whoever tends bar at the Canteen when I’m working—usually Hecker—will usually give me a cut of his personal tips, plus my fair share of what the house accumulated that night. However, that’s not to say I don’t get any tips at all.

Since I discovered Julia was in town and had a kid with her, I started saving up my tips. That’s what I’ve been using to bring groceries and sometimes toys. When I saw the diner was having a carry-out lunch special, a sandwich, fries, drinks and a small dessert, I had enough cash to grab us all something and to leave a tip of my own in their tip jar. Pass on the fortune and all that.

I was smiling while heading to Ruby’s house. I’ve been learning what everyone likes and doesn’t like as far as food goes and I was a real nuisance with all my requests at the diner. That’s partly why I left the tip.