Joyride by Anna Banks Page B

and a swollen red nose that might have been bleeding before they arrived.
    When Deptuy Glass opens the door to get out, Arden rolls down his window to listen in. He’s not allowed to get out and actually take part in calls. But he’s allowed to observe, by policy. Anyone can, in fact. It’s one of the most well-kept secrets of the county.
    Henry extends his hand to shake Deputy Glass’s. He nods toward the yellow vinyl-sided house, where the light is on in the living room, and the front door is wide open. “Rose is in the bedroom crying her eyes out. She feels real bad about it this time,” Henry says. “If it weren’t for my little man here, I wouldn’t care none. But I’ve got to raise him right, you know? What goes in might come out one day.”
    Deputy Glass nods. “That’s right, Henry. That’s right. You know what’s going to happen now, don’t you? I can’t do anything about that. It’s her third time.”
    Henry hangs his head and nods. Arden can’t tell if he’s sniffling because he’s crying or because he’s sucking up more blood that might be oozing out. Probably both.
    Glass disappears into the house and when he reemerges, he has Rose Walker in submissive tow, hands cuffed behind her back. She’s in her pajamas, which are mismatched Tweety Bird pants with a Mickey Mouse tank covering her muffin top, all accentuated with hot-pink bejeweled flip-flops. Her runny mascara and mussed-up hair will make a classic mugshot. Deputy Glass allows her to kneel down so that Caden can throw his chubby little arms around his mother’s thick neck.
    â€œMama’s got to go away for a little while, but Daddy will take care of you, okay, little darlin’?” For what it’s worth, it does appear that Rose seems more remorseful this time. Probably because she’s going to jail.
    â€œDaddy has boo-boo,” Caden announces. “Mama hit Daddy.”
    â€œMama loves Daddy, okay?” she says. “We just get mad at each other sometimes.”
    Arden rolls his eyes. Way to teach your son that domestic violence is the norm . Arden’s quite certain little Caden would understand if Rose said something more accurate like, “Mama isn’t supposed to hit Daddy. That’s bad.” But instead, she splits the blame between them. Glass calls it classic abuser syndrome.
    If only Henry would grow some balls and say it himself. But everyone in this yard knows that will never happen.
    Glass opens the back door of the car for Rose and helps her in. “Hi, Arden,” she says. “How’s your mama doing these days?”
    Arden grinds his teeth. “She’s doing.” The truth is, she isn’t doing, not much anyway. She’s awake half the night and sleeps during the day and in between she apparently fusses over Cletus. She must miss having someone to fuss over, now that Amber is gone. At least Cletus is good for something.
    â€œWell, that’s good.”
    Arden’s not sure what’s so good about it, but Rose isn’t really interested in talking pleasantries. As soon as Glass gets in the driver’s seat, she starts in immediately, pressing her face against the metal, netlike barrier between the front and backseat. “You know that hag May’s going to fire me over this,” she says. Arden perks up. Rose works as a waitress at Uppity Rooster Café on Highway 98. Has for as long as Arden can remember. His aunt Dorothy was best friends with the café manager and owner, May Haverty.
    â€œYou really want that to happen?” Rose continues. “I support us, you know. Henry hasn’t had a job for six months now. Who’s going to feed my Caden if I’m in jail?”
    At this Arden is surprised. The Walker house is in a good neighborhood. It’s a nice house. They even have their lawn cut regularly by a lawn care service. At least, they have a sign