Toby: It’ll make the end of our night that much sweeter.
Jodie: I don’t remember agreeing to a booty call, Tobias.
Toby: Fuck, I love it when you say my name. Especially when your fingers are twisted in my hair.
“Damn you, Toby,” I hiss, my body heating at the picture he paints for me.
“How’d the interview go?” Mum asks, dragging me back to Earth and forcing me to get the image of Toby between my thighs out of my head.
“Y-yeah, it was good. I’m starting Friday evening,” I say, a knot tightening in my belly at the fact that I haven’t exactly been honest about the kind of bar it really is.
My phone buzzes once more but I ignore it, shoving it into my pocket.
“Oh, fantastic.” A smile lights up her face, but I don’t feel her excitement in the slightest.
“Have you managed to find anything yet? He must have had a pension, an insurance policy or something,” I damn near plead, desperate for Mum not to be left with nothing out of this whole clusterfuck.
She shakes her head sadly.
“Jesus, what was he thinking?’
“Life is complicated, sweetheart,” she offers by way of an explanation.
“I know, but I never expected this.”
Something flashes in her eyes that makes me frown.
“What is it? What aren’t you telling me?” I ask, recognising that look.
“It’s…” She sighs. “It’s nothing. We can’t fix the past, Jojo. Right now, all we can do is look to the future.”
She sounds strangely optimistic for a woman who could barely leave her room not so long ago, but I guess grief is a weird beast and I’m just going to have to roll with the punches here.
And of course, she’s right. It’s too late to be worried about what Dad did or didn’t do. I can only assume he wasn’t actually planning to die—even if I now have my questions over his death—and that he wouldn’t have left us in this state on purpose. Maybe… who knows.
Just like Toby, maybe my stepdad had me fooled all this time, too.
“I’m going out tonight,” I tell Mum, trying to think positively as she just suggested.
“With him?” she asks with a happy smile.
“Yep. He’s picking me up in two hours.“
“Then what the hell are you doing, sitting here and chatting with me? Get your backside upstairs and in the shower.”
“Are you sure? I can stay in,” I offer. It’s a pathetic attempt to get out of the conversation that needs to happen tonight.
“Jodie Walker,” she growls, making me feel like a seven-year-old again. “You are not spending another night here babysitting me. Get out there and paint the town red.”
My lips part to argue, but she cuts me a stern look that quickly stops me.
“Yeah, okay. As long as you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. I plan on spending the night applying for every job I can find and hunting for somewhere for us to live.”
“It’s not going to come to that. We’ll figure it out.“
“Maybe so. But we need a backup plan should the bailiffs turn up at our door sooner rather than later.”
My chest compresses with the weight of that statement. “Go, child. Go,” she mocks, waving her hand at me. “And do not come back down here until you’re in your nicest dress and looking ready to knock him on his arse.”
I can’t help but laugh at her. “I’ll see what I can do.”