Asphalt Arcanum

Chapter 7

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Cherie tried to hold Liam's hand as they approached the restaurant, but he shook her off. She was seeing his angry "not a baby" sign more and more lately, a portent of the rocky teenage years that were closer than she liked to think about. He stomped off a few steps ahead, and Cherie had to stop herself from rushing forward to grab his hand and keep him close, or to reflexively straighten out his hearing aids. He was in a rotten mood after she insisted they leave Katsuki back at the shelter, and no logical arguments or promises that the nice staff lady would check on the cat could break through his sullen anger.

Well, she'd upended his whole life for reasons she hadn't even fully explained to him yet, and his normal routine was in tatters. Of course he was acting out. He deserved a little space without his mom fussing over him.

She couldn't depend on Liam for comfort, she reminded herself.

Instead, she ran a gentle hand through Aiden's soft brown hair. He was back in the front-backpack carrier, facing forward, babbling "Donn! Donn!" and squirming—but she was selfishly glad that she had a good excuse to keep him close, at least for another few minutes. She wrapped her arms around him, kissed his head, and muttered "Soon, soon," in a soothing voice into his hair, breathing in the calming scent of baby and no-tears shampoo.

Aiden jerked his head back and whacked Cherie in the jaw.

Okay, message received. Cherie turned her attention back to her surroundings, rubbing her jaw with one hand. They were supposed to be keeping a low profile—the lady at the shelter had seemed unhappy that they were leaving, but she'd just repeated the safety rules and let them go.

Rejected by both kids, she had nothing left to distract her from her thoughts. She kept glancing back and forth, scanning every person she passed for familiar faces. This road was too wide, with too many alleyways and cross streets—too many places someone could be watching her from.

She and Chris had lived in a nice little house just over the city limits into Farmingham, the neighboring suburb. They didn't know anyone from this side of town or have any reason to come over here, though the border of Chris's precinct was uncomfortably close, just three blocks away. They'd gotten off the subway one stop early to avoid getting near it, even though that meant walking six blocks instead of two. That probably wasn't helping Liam's rotten mood.

Part of her was terrified that this was some elaborate plan by Chris to find her and the kids and make them come back. But...no, that wasn't his style. He was the kind of guy who walked through life in a straight line, charming or convincing or overwhelming everyone in his path. He never needed to sneak around or strategize—he made his choices, and the world fell into place around him.

If he found her, she'd know, because he'd be here.

Still, when she pushed the diner door open, she cringed at the sharp tinkle of the door chime. She felt the glances of the people inside like needles in her skin.

As she stood awkwardly in the entryway near the "Please wait to be seated" sign, she caught sight of the mail lady waving her over to a large booth in the back of the diner.

"Hey!" the woman greeted them with a big smile and gestured them into the booth. "Glad you could make it."

"Thanks," Cherie replied, suddenly hesitant.

There was already a high chair parked at the end of the table—the mail lady must've requested it. Cherie went through the motions of getting Aiden from the carrier to the chair—he squirmed a little, clearly wanting to run around, but when she passed him a few of his quieter toys, he settled down. He started rolling the little Duplo truck back and forth and crashing it into the edges of the tray, off in his own toddler world.