@WriteOutofTime
She nodded appreciatively. "Well done. Tyler can show you how to clean the tables." She tossed him a rag.
She nodded appreciatively. "Well done. Tyler can show you how to clean the tables." She tossed him a rag.
"With all due respect, Tyler, I know how to clean a table." Lucas took the rag with a soft smile and began cleaning.
"Wow, okay then," Tyler laughed. "Just make sure to flip the sign on the table to show that its been cleaned."
"Yes, sir." Lucas grinned cheekily and flipped the sign, moving onto the next table. Something about his smile still seemed fake, though, which wasn't surprising after what he'd just experienced. His bruises were starting to bother him more, which was evident whenever a sore part of his body lightly bumped anything. He'd wince every time.
Tyler and his mom watched Lucas work. His mom glanced over at him. "What's the real story?" she said softly, so that Lucas couldn't hear.
Tyler shook his head. "I wish I could say. Do you think Cass could help him out after she gets off work? At the very least give him some Tylenol or something?"
His mother nodded. "She'd be happy to, I'm sure." She smiled one of her warm grins at him. "You'll let me know if he needs anything, won't you?"
He returned the smile. "'Course I will."
Lucas finished cleaning the tables and started coming back over. He bumped into a chair on his way back and grimaced for a moment, but then continued as though nothing had happened. He'd learned not to dwell on pain for too long. "I'm done cleaning the tables, ma'am."
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