draw more, which means additional criminal eyes, money, police activity, and a bigger chance that the pasts we’re trying to bury will be resurrected.” He tried to hit Daniel with his coldest stare, but it didn’t do a damned bit of good. It never did with Daniel. He just stared back for a second, shook his head, and then smiled indulgently.
“If you say so.” He patted Gerome on the shoulder once again and stood as Tucker came back toward them.
“Cheryl drank most of the juice and took the pills. She is going to get up and shower. She also said she was hungry.” The relief in Tucker’s eyes was palpable.
“That’s good.” Daniel slipped off his stool. “Coby, we need to go.”
“Okay.” Coby began picking up the toys. “You can have this one and this one,” he said, handing the two trucks to Joshie. “Now you can play trucks any time you want.” He put the rest of the toys into his bag. “I gotta go. But we can play later if you want.”
Joshie nodded and held the two toys like they were the greatest gifts he had ever received. “Thank you.”
Daniel and Coby left, and Gerome figured he might as well too. “I should go.”
Tucker stood behind the snack bar in the kitchen, rinsing out the dishes. “Look, you’re the reason we’re here and have anything right now. The least I can do is cook for you if you want to have dinner with us.” He put the now clean glasses back in the cupboard.
“You don’t have to,” Gerome said as Tucker pulled open the refrigerator and got out some of the eggs, meat, and vegetables.
Tucker smiled as he began prepping and chopping. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had anything fresh? Most of what we eat comes out of a box because things like mac and cheese are super cheap and filling.” He set down the knife. “I haven’t had an egg like this in so long I barely remember what they taste like.” He tried to smile, but it seemed to pause on his lips.
“Can I ask how you came to be… like this?” Gerome wasn’t quite sure how to ask the question and faltered. He never did that. What was happening to him?
“Well, things just fell apart. I worked in kitchens and stuff like that. For a while I had a place, but I never made much money, and I got behind on the rent because I got sick and wasn’t able to work. I thought I could make it up and took extra shifts. But the restaurant closed and I was out of a job, and as soon as the landlord heard about it, he kicked me out. After that I didn’t have an address and couldn’t get another job, and I was out on my own.” He blinked a few times and then went back to chopping. “It shocked me just how fast it happened.”
“What did you do?” Gerome asked, sitting on one of the stools, watching the knife as it moved in a blur, Tucker cut so fast.
“That was almost a year ago. I found the tent at a garage sale and ended up in one of the camps because I had no other place. I’ve managed some day jobs, but without an address, I can’t get a real job. So I’m stuck. I’ve tried to work, but all anyone sees is my threadbare clothes, and when they realize I’m homeless, they turn their back because… I don’t know… maybe they think I’m going to ask to camp out in their kitchen or something.” He got out a pan, and soon the kitchen filled with the scent of sautéing vegetables, onion, and a little garlic. Damn, the scent was intoxicating. Almost as much as the intensity in Tucker’s eyes when his gaze met Gerome’s. For a few seconds, Gerome’s thoughts wandered off what they were talking about to Tucker’s lips before snapping back to what Tucker was saying.
“Huh?” Gerome asked when he realized he had lost the train of the conversation.
“I was saying that not having a home isn’t a disease.” Gerome followed Tucker’s gaze to where Joshie was playing on the floor. “What did he ever do to not deserve a home? But some people think we’re the modern-day version of lepers or something. That if they get too close or work with us, somehow they’ll be tainted with the same affliction.” Tucker set down the knife with a bang