Chapter Text
The kid was blowing on that harmonica again, trying out different notes, frowning when one didn't quite hit the pitch he was looking for.
Armie flicked his cigarette over the side of his lawn chair, watched as the ashes drifted in the wind, then brought it back to his lips, taking a drag.
The kid's been at it a while but Armie didn't mind, only glad to have something fill in the silence.
Armie realized his eyes were closed when the fiddling stopped. When he opened them to find out why, he only found the kid looking up at him.
"What do you do around here?"
The kid was stretched out on the grass, one skinny leg crossed over the other, the harmonica lay abadonned next to him. His eyes were expectant and his bottom lip being used as a chew toy.
Armie sighed, "Look kid—"
"Timmy."
For fuck’s sake, "OK, Timmy. I told you back at the garage I'd let you stay with me on one condition. Do you remember what that was?"
"That I don't ask any questions." There's a funny glint in his eyes that Armie has a bad feeling about.
If he'd known the kid would cause trouble, he'd had left his ass back in town.
"Bingo."
"Oh come on, I'm dying here. I need conversation. Pleasseee."
Well that's just too bad, because Armie didn't want to talk.
"No."
The kid's pouting, but Armie won't budge, no matter how pretty the kid looks doing it.
Armie cursed under his breath. This has got to be some cosmic joke, some April Fool's bullshit.
The one day the Andersons closed the only motel in town for a private event happened to be the same day this kid's cheap Hyundai broke down on a nearby freeway, and Armie’s shop the only one to take his distress call.
Maybe he can make another call. Larry in the next town over might already have the spare part he's ordered. That bastard owed him one anyway.
Suddenly waiting for the part to come tomorrow, and letting the kid stay with him seemed like one huge mistake.
Especially considering the way the kid's big round eyes were looking at him now.
Yep. Armie was screwed.