underneath.” She was so bad sometimes, but Tucker still smiled. “Either that or more stone. It’s a toss-up.”
“Great,” Tucker groused and went back to making breakfast.
“LET’S GO, Joshie,” Cheryl said. “We have to go and see if I can get a job.” She seemed even better now that she had eaten well. Tucker was ready, and he waited at the door for Joshie to put on his jacket. Then he locked the door and they left, taking the road toward the Driftwood.
It was a nice day, and Cheryl held Joshie’s hand as he practically skipped along, singing and talking to himself. He seemed so happy to be outside, and Tucker had to agree with him. With Cheryl not feeling well, he had stayed close for the last few days, but now it seemed that the clouds might have blown away and the sun could come out. They both had a chance at jobs, and with those, maybe they could find someplace more permanent to live.
“I appreciate you taking care of me these last few days,” Cheryl said above Joshie’s excited chatter. “And watching him.”
“Hey, it’s no problem.” Cheryl was like his sister, and he intended to hold on to the family he had. “You’d do the same for me.” He looked both ways, and they crossed the street and the parking lot before going inside the bar, which was bright with the light flooding through the windows.
“Are you Cheryl?” the lady inside asked. “I’m Andi. Richard said you’d be coming in. We desperately need someone a few days a week.” She seemed a little drawn, like she had been working too much and it was catching up with her. “Tucker?” she asked, and he nodded. “Knock on the door over there and ask for Richard or Alan. They’ll want to talk to you.”
Tucker left the others and followed her instructions, entering a small office.
“Tucker? I’m Richard. I believe you’ve met my friend Gerome and my husband, Daniel.” They shook hands, and Richard motioned to the seat. “Gerome told me that you had some real kitchen skills.”
“I started as a dishwasher and worked my way up to prep and did some cooking before my last job ended. What sort of help do you need?” He tried not to appear too excited, but his heart pounded. This was his chance at a job and maybe getting his life back on track. It was a real opportunity for him. “I cooked at home when I was a kid and can do just about anything you need.” He felt himself beginning to stammer and stopped talking.
“Where did you work last?”
“The Wheelhouse in Tampa.”
Richard whistled. “I know that restaurant, and I’m sorry you got caught up in that mess.” It had been a big news story. The restaurant had been around for forty years, and the owner had passed away. The kids closed it and sold off the real estate. Tucker wasn’t surprised Richard had heard about it. The restaurant was an institution, and when it was gone, Tucker had been out of a job.
“Yeah, me too.”
“But that tells me you know enough to help us out here. I’m going to put you in touch with Zane, the chef in the kitchen, and you can meet him. He really needs someone to do prep and help him out.”
“I’ll do whatever you need me to.” The knots that had taken up permanent residency in his belly unwound, and he finally thought that things might get better. “When do you want me to start?”
Richard chuckled. “Come in tomorrow and we’ll get you all set. We’re going to need your paperwork and Social Security card, stuff like that. Just bring it—we’ll have you fill out the paperwork and go from there.” He leaned forward. “I think you’ll fit in well. We’re only a small bar and restaurant….”
Tucker lowered his gaze. “What you are is saving my life,” he said softly. He told himself he wasn’t going to break down and took a deep breath to hold himself together. But he had been living on the edge for so long. Hunger, insecurity—all of it had haunted him, and he knew it was the same for Cheryl.
“What relationship is Cheryl to you?” Richard asked.
“She’s like a sister. We met in one of the camps and have become close friends, and we need each other. We’re like family, but not really related.” He would do just about anything for her and Joshie. “When I met them, I was all alone and