Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Charlotte
My first appointment of the day is with a married couple named Chris and Sarah. I damn near accidentally caused them to get a divorce when Chris first started coming in for appointments, and I still feel bad about what went down.
Actually, no.
I’m not taking responsibility for that, not even mentally.
Chris is a sweet guy—clearly dumber than a box of rocks, but he never crossed any lines. The extent of what we’d done during his appointments was to sit six inches apart on the couch while he talked about his boring-ass job at the bank.
It’s not how most appointments go, but I had only seen him twice, and I thought he was just shy. Either way, he absolutely should have warned his wife that he was coming in for treatment.
If I had known he was married, I would have flat-out told him to sit down and explain the situation before she found out on her own.
And oh, boy.
Did she ever find out…
Apparently she came across a card with my name and his next appointment on it. Then she did what nearly any woman would have done in her position. She came into the clinic, booked an appointment with me, and asked why the hell her husband was scheduled to see me in an hour.
For being five-three and a beta, she’s more intimidating than some of the alphas who come in for treatment, but due to the confidentiality agreements that we sign, I couldn’t tell her anything.
Okay, I told her she had nothing to worry about and begged her to please have a conversation with her husband.
She called him, demanded he come to the clinic immediately, and I sat awkwardly on the couch during the rest of her appointment time and into his while they argued, made up, and then finally together asked me to carry on.
That first appointment was weird.
After that, they’ve come in together. It was the best course of action—at least, I think so. She had to know there was the possibility that he would need to find an omega one day, but I still can’t imagine how hard it would be to be a beta married to an alpha.
Sometimes it’s hard not to ask if they have plans to find a pack, or if they’re going to stick with coming into the clinic every week. It’s ultimately none of my business, even if I am curious.
I lie on the edge of the treatment table as Chris’s little spoon. He keeps his hands to himself, but he does bury his nose in my hair. Sarah cuddles behind Chris, making him her little spoon.
She leans over her husband, patting my arm. “I meant to ask. How’s the little one?”
I laugh. “He made plans for us to visit the Christmas market tomorrow night. We have to see Santa to pass along his list.”
“That’s cute,” Chris says. “I bet having a kid that age makes the holiday even more special.”
“It does,” I agree. “It’s going to be freezing, though. I probably should have taken him to the mall. That way, I could have told him that it’s one visit to Santa per kid.”
Sarah chuckles. “I might have to save that for when we have kids one day. Oh, by the way, I asked my friend at work about the registration for her children’s school. I have the paperwork in my purse.”
I smile and force out a quick, “Thank you,” but there’s no way I’ll be able to do anything with that paperwork. I checked out the school online after she mentioned it. The tuition is close to half my yearly income. There’s no way I would be able to afford all of our living expenses and that school.
“Definitely get your kindergarten application in soon. There’s a wait list, but you might have some luck.
People relocate for jobs or find other options they like better,” Sarah says.
“And if you do apply, my friend said to put her down as a reference. It looks good if you have someone whose children already attend the school to sponsor your application.”
She’s trying to be helpful, but my chest tightens. I do my best to focus on anything outside of all the things Lucky will miss out on because I can’t afford them.
With Christmas coming up, everyone has been generous with their tips, including Sarah and Chris.
It really helps, but I’ve been considering finding a second job or maybe seeing how I do over at the strip club portion of Tasty Treat.
The pheromone clinic pays well, but stripping is a different level of income if someone knows what they’re doing.
I’m scraping by as it is, and that means I can’t save up for emergencies or even things like private school tuition.
If I have to work my ass off, I would rather make the most money possible during the hours I have to be away from Lucky. If I did take the plunge into dancing, I might have more free time to spend with my kid.
If I could work fewer hours, I’d probably be a lot less exhausted, so I could actually enjoy our time together rather than feeling like I’m barely getting through the day.
The mommy guilt smacks me in full force as I pack up to head out, and that might be why I corner Lacey, my coworker, begging her to come with us to the Christmas market tomorrow night.
We’re friendly, but we’ve only hung out once outside of work. It surprises me that she even says yes. Though I’m grateful. Most of the time, if I’m not working, the only person I talk to is Lucky.
It’ll be nice to have another adult with us.
“Can we go now?” Lucky asks, nodding and bouncing on his toes.
“Not yet, kiddo. Just a few more hours.”
“I wanna go right now,” he huffs.
I really should have known better than to give him advance notice when we’re about to do something.
He continues to remind me approximately every three minutes that he can’t wait for it to get dark so we can go see Santa.
It makes for the world’s longest day, but I am grateful to have time off work.
We make a quick grocery trip, and I cook dinner before we both take showers and get dressed. It gets dark earlier during winter, and while I don’t love driving when it’s snowy and dark, there’s no way around it this time of year.
I’m hopeful we can be home by nine, so I can get a full night’s sleep for a change, but I won’t shortchange him on time enjoying the Christmas festivities.
By the time we get into the SUV, I’m already exhausted, but there’s no backing out now. It’s a quick trip, and I get us settled in a parking spot, leaving the vehicle running because the heat finally caught up.
Lucky fusses and complains as I dig for my phone in my purse. “Mommy! Get me out my seat. Let’s go.”
“I told you, my friend from work is coming with us. I need to text her, then I promise, I’ll get you right out.”
Lacey and I have known each other for months, but I don’t get a lot of free time to hang out, which I’m pretty sure is the only way to make friends once you’re an adult.
She’s around my age, maybe a year or two younger, and she has a lighthearted energy that I haven’t been able to muster in ages.
Even if we’re opposites in a lot of ways, I still love being around her.
She has shoulder-length brown hair, and she’s bundled up like we’re visiting the frozen tundra instead of a Christmas market in Boston. Then again, I’ve got Lucky in like four layers too.
“Mommy!” Lucky squeals, pointing at the hot chocolate and coffee stand. “I can have one?” He gives a cheesy smile, nodding like that alone will convince me.
Lacey chuckles. “It’s crazy how clearly he speaks.”
“Yeah, I think it’s because I talk to him like he’s an adult.
I’ve never changed my language to fit with his age.
Basically, he repeats whatever he’s heard me say.
Would you like a hot chocolate or a coffee?
” I offer, heading over to stand in line.
“Get your butt back over here.” The last part I direct at my kid, who seems to be distracted by the colorful lights on the merry-go-round.
“No, I’m good,” Lacey says. “I’ll help keep an eye on him. He is unnaturally good at running off.”
I laugh. “I considered one of those backpacks with a leash, but I decided I didn’t want to deal with the ugly looks from other moms.”
Lacey snorts. “I mean, you’re keeping the kid alive. What’s there to be unhappy about? People are way too judgmental.”
I wish I didn’t let it bother me, but I already feel judged. I get weird looks from the other moms whenever we go to story time or activities. And it’s not like I don’t get it. I was nineteen when I gave birth, but I got pregnant when I was eighteen. That’s insanely young.
I give her an appreciative smile and step up to give my order.
They have a whole tray of cooled hot chocolates for the kids, and the woman hands me a cup. I take a quick taste test because it’s better to be safe than sorry.
“Lucky, come get your drink,” I call over my shoulder, hoping it’ll lure him to me. It works, and I hand off his cup. “Please be careful. It’s not hot, but you don’t want to ruin your jacket.”
“I will,” he lies before promptly turning around and bolting.
I glance between the woman I still owe money to, and my kid, absconding with his stolen drink.
Jesus.
“I’ll follow him,” Lacey says.
“Thanks,” I mutter, digging in my purse.
God, there’s no way that I don’t look like a shitty parent.
I sip my hot chocolate, wondering if I should walk around to search for Lucky and Lacey. I’m afraid that if I leave my spot, they won’t know where to find me, and there are more people than I expected to be out and about.
My stomach tightens.
I don’t know Lacey very well, but I pray she’s capable of keeping up with a precocious three-year-old.
They’re experts at escaping.
I do some laps around the area, always keeping the drink stand in my line of sight. It’s been less than five minutes, but that feels like a long time for my kid to be out of view in such a public place.
I’m headed in the direction where I last saw them when Lacey comes toward me with Lucky on her hip.
His hot chocolate is missing, and she’s wiping off his leg with her hand.
Well, that didn’t last long.
Luckily mine isn’t terribly hot, so I’ll be able to share with him.
I beeline toward them, meeting them in the middle. We step to the side, making room so other people can access the sidewalk.
“What happened?” I hold out an arm for Lucky, and he chucks himself at my chest.
Lacey grimaces. “I wasn’t fast enough. He ran into this guy, and his hot chocolate went flying. I’m so sorry. I’ll buy him a replacement.”
I shrug. “It happens. Kids are like wrecking balls. He can have mine.” I offer mine to him, but he shakes his head.
“I wanna get down.” He stretches his legs, and if I didn’t have a solid hold on him, he would slide right down my front.
“Okay, but the next time you run off, we’re leaving,” I tell him, kissing his forehead. “Want to go stand in line to meet Santa and the elves?”
Lacey nods, and I laugh as Lucky squeals.
They’re an easy-to-please crowd.