Read Online - Black Gold 2 - Double Black by Clancy Nacht, Thursday Euclid - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Clancy Nacht, Thursday Euclid
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doesn’t matter what I want. I have my album, and Jett… Can you imagine him with a child?”
Robbie snorted. “No.”
The finality of Robbie’s statement was too much for Goldie to bear. He wriggled from Robbie’s grip. “So there you go.”
“Hey, Goldie. Look, you ain’t gonna change him by not telling him, and you’re not gonna stop wanting a family, if that’s what you really want.”
Goldie looked at his expertly manicured lawn. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Can we just go to Kmart?”
Robbie gave Goldie a quick, tight hug. “Sure, kid. Whatever you want.”
* * * *
Kmart bustled with chubby families pushing carts. None of them spared Goldie a second look.
It gave him a wonderfully anonymous feeling, even if the immature part of him wanted to pull off his hat and glasses and say, “TA-DA! It’s Goldie!”
Would they know who he was? Probably.
But why would they care? There were discount juice boxes to be had. Goldie kept running into people while he gazed at signs hanging from the ceiling. “Food and clothes in the same store! That’s very convenient, but do you really want your frozen pizza chilling your tighty whities?”
Cole shot him a bemused look. “Oh, they put them in different bags. When you work as a bagger, they teach you how to divvy things up.” He moved closer to Goldie as if fearful of being overheard and reached for his hand. “Have you really never shopped in a discount superstore before? That’s so weird. So like, is this your virgin trip somewhere like this? Should I feel special?”
Robbie raised a brow at their clasped hands, but Goldie was convinced it was only Cole’s attempt to keep Goldie from ruining his cover.
“I don’t think I have. I mean, maybe when I was very young. I don’t think Jett approves of them.” Goldie wasn’t sure if he did either, but if it made Cole more comfortable, he’d go with it. “You know a lot about bagging. You worked at a place this big?”
Cole looked around with a blank, appraising stare and shrugged, for a moment the very image of Jett. Then he cracked a smile and squeezed Goldie’s hand excitedly, breaking the spell. “Sort of. It wasn’t as fancy. This is a really nice one. They have organic potato chips even! Everything’s so expensive here. Wow.”
“I hear that about California. But if you want them, grab them. Hasani isn’t likely to keep things like that in the house, organic or not. Should we get a cart?”
Goldie eyed them. Not far away, a toddler mouthed the handle of the wire basket. All around people were handling, coughing on, and otherwise touching the carts.
“Do people normally let their children suck on those?”
The observation seemed to startle Cole. “I dunno. I mean, there’s antiseptic wipe things if you’re worried about it.”
Cole pointed to an industrial-sized tub of wet wipes. Lips pursed in an amused expression Goldie had seen on Jett a hundred times, Cole snatched a wipe, rubbed down the pushbar of a cart, and rolled it to Goldie.
As Cole took a few bags of chips off a prominent shelf and started loading the basket with them, his gaze darted to Goldie’s, then sideways to Robbie’s face. “Robbie, tell Gol—”
Cole looked around quickly, as though some sharp-eared fan would hear him and start a stampede. “Tell him the cart isn’t carrying plague, will you? You use carts too, right? I mean, it’s…” Cole seemed to be looking for a word, his brows drawing together as he thought. “It’s normal, right, Robbie?”
“Yeah, it’s normal. Billy ain’t normal, though.” Robbie patted Goldie’s back and pushed the cart for him.
Goldie wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or insulted. He followed, looking at the brightly colored products under the harsh store lighting. He felt like a tourist in a foreign land where everything was wrapped in plastic. He couldn’t help but gape.
“ This is normal?”
“Well, yeah.” Cole offered Goldie his hand again,
Robbie snorted. “No.”
The finality of Robbie’s statement was too much for Goldie to bear. He wriggled from Robbie’s grip. “So there you go.”
“Hey, Goldie. Look, you ain’t gonna change him by not telling him, and you’re not gonna stop wanting a family, if that’s what you really want.”
Goldie looked at his expertly manicured lawn. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Can we just go to Kmart?”
Robbie gave Goldie a quick, tight hug. “Sure, kid. Whatever you want.”
* * * *
Kmart bustled with chubby families pushing carts. None of them spared Goldie a second look.
It gave him a wonderfully anonymous feeling, even if the immature part of him wanted to pull off his hat and glasses and say, “TA-DA! It’s Goldie!”
Would they know who he was? Probably.
But why would they care? There were discount juice boxes to be had. Goldie kept running into people while he gazed at signs hanging from the ceiling. “Food and clothes in the same store! That’s very convenient, but do you really want your frozen pizza chilling your tighty whities?”
Cole shot him a bemused look. “Oh, they put them in different bags. When you work as a bagger, they teach you how to divvy things up.” He moved closer to Goldie as if fearful of being overheard and reached for his hand. “Have you really never shopped in a discount superstore before? That’s so weird. So like, is this your virgin trip somewhere like this? Should I feel special?”
Robbie raised a brow at their clasped hands, but Goldie was convinced it was only Cole’s attempt to keep Goldie from ruining his cover.
“I don’t think I have. I mean, maybe when I was very young. I don’t think Jett approves of them.” Goldie wasn’t sure if he did either, but if it made Cole more comfortable, he’d go with it. “You know a lot about bagging. You worked at a place this big?”
Cole looked around with a blank, appraising stare and shrugged, for a moment the very image of Jett. Then he cracked a smile and squeezed Goldie’s hand excitedly, breaking the spell. “Sort of. It wasn’t as fancy. This is a really nice one. They have organic potato chips even! Everything’s so expensive here. Wow.”
“I hear that about California. But if you want them, grab them. Hasani isn’t likely to keep things like that in the house, organic or not. Should we get a cart?”
Goldie eyed them. Not far away, a toddler mouthed the handle of the wire basket. All around people were handling, coughing on, and otherwise touching the carts.
“Do people normally let their children suck on those?”
The observation seemed to startle Cole. “I dunno. I mean, there’s antiseptic wipe things if you’re worried about it.”
Cole pointed to an industrial-sized tub of wet wipes. Lips pursed in an amused expression Goldie had seen on Jett a hundred times, Cole snatched a wipe, rubbed down the pushbar of a cart, and rolled it to Goldie.
As Cole took a few bags of chips off a prominent shelf and started loading the basket with them, his gaze darted to Goldie’s, then sideways to Robbie’s face. “Robbie, tell Gol—”
Cole looked around quickly, as though some sharp-eared fan would hear him and start a stampede. “Tell him the cart isn’t carrying plague, will you? You use carts too, right? I mean, it’s…” Cole seemed to be looking for a word, his brows drawing together as he thought. “It’s normal, right, Robbie?”
“Yeah, it’s normal. Billy ain’t normal, though.” Robbie patted Goldie’s back and pushed the cart for him.
Goldie wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or insulted. He followed, looking at the brightly colored products under the harsh store lighting. He felt like a tourist in a foreign land where everything was wrapped in plastic. He couldn’t help but gape.
“ This is normal?”
“Well, yeah.” Cole offered Goldie his hand again,
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