Shifting Dreams Read Free

shift, life was short. Heart attack. Premature stroke. Lowell Sr., Jena’s childhood sweetheart, had been lucky to make it to his late twenties before a mysterious brain cancer had cut his life short, leaving Jena with two small boys and an aching hollow in her heart that still echoed on the loneliest nights.
    Low just shrugged his thin shoulders and grabbed a book out of his backpack. “I’ll help Aaron with his homework. I know you have to get ready.”
    “Thanks, kiddo.”
    “Is Aunt Christy coming for dinner?”
    “Yep. She’ll be here around five.”
    “Cool.”
    Low walked down the hall. Jena called out to him. “Low?” He turned. “I know she lets you stay up late, and I’m okay with it for you, but make sure Bear’s getting enough sleep, okay? You’re his big brother.”
    He rolled his eyes. “I know, Mom.”
    “Good kid. I’m gonna get clean. Then I’ll come out and get you guys a snack.”
    “Thanks.”

    Hours later, after a rushed dinner, Jena was primped and ready for another night of work at the bar. Her long runner’s legs were encased in skintight jeans that showed off a trim figure. She’d put on a halter-top her other best friend had convinced her to buy on a girls’ weekend in Palm Springs. It was snug in all the right places and even gave the illusion that Jena had breasts, which hadn’t really been true since the last time she’d breast-fed, but then, illusion was everything when it came to good tips.
    Plus, it was just fun to get out every now and then. She never minded helping Oliver Campbell run his family’s old roadhouse on the edge of town. The Cave was an institution and drew some of the best business in the desert. It was also the unofficial boundary of the Springs’ territory. Few outsiders ever got past Ollie. They were welcome to the cold drinks and the good music, but if you weren’t one of the regulars from the Springs, the Tribes, or one of the motorcycle clubs that made The Cave their home, then don’t linger. And don’t get too familiar with the staff.
    But please, tip your waitress, because Mama needs to buy two growing boys shoes before their toes poke out of the old ones.
    Jena did all right. The diner was a steady business and she didn’t need much to get by. The house was family property and didn’t have a mortgage. Her car was paid for. But keeping up with everything two kids needed was still a challenge some months. And that was another reason Jena dolled up and headed out to Ollie’s. A few good tips wouldn’t hurt the bank account.
    She pulled into the back and could hear the band warming up. Despite the isolated location, The Cave had become known for some of the best music in the desert. Rock, blues, old-fashioned country. If you were an independent musician looking for a gig, then The Cave was the place to play. Ollie paid the bands decent, but the money wasn’t really the draw. Saying you’d survived the tough-as-nails crowd at The Cave without bottles being thrown at you was the real prize. More than one famous musician or group had a picture on the wall that led to the bathrooms.
    Not behind the bar, though. Nothing was behind the bar besides beer, liquor bottles, and the hulking form of Ollie Campbell.
    “Hey, honey.” Jena slipped into Ollie’s office and put her purse on the bookcase behind his desk. Ollie’s office was very much like the man himself. Solid furniture, an eclectic mix of decor, and quiet, soundproofed walls.  
    “How was your day, Jen?”
    He had a pencil in his mouth and he was chewing on it. He’d been doing that since the year before when he stopped smoking.
    “It was fine. You gotta stop that, Ollie. You’re going to ruin your teeth.”
    He chuckled. “Doubtful. You know what these teeth tear up on a regular basis?”
    “I’m not talking Bear Ollie. I’m talking Regular Ollie and you will ruin your teeth if you keep doing that. Try some gum.”
    “Yes, Mom.”
    She whacked the back of his head. “Shut