What Paige told Walter at the end of Cuba Libre was something that I really needed to get ficced, so I thought I'd try my hand at it.

"No," Paige said under her breath, the blood draining from her face as she picked up the pace. "No, no, no, no no!"

She came to a stop mere feet from the pile, already noticing all that was missing. The tiny television set - though the old VHS tapes remained. All of her clothes. All of his. The baseball blanket that she often found Ralph staring at, as if he was trying to work out what this thing was that had prevented him from seeing his father for the past eight months.

She shifted Ralph to her other arm and cleared her throat. Donald Garrido - the landlord - was exiting his office, puffing on a cigarette. Forcing herself to stand up straight and walk authoritatively with a three year old on her hip, she marched toward him. "Mr. Garrido!"

"Take a hike, Paige," he said dismissively. "I'm done with your excuses."

"You can't do this!" she said, exhaling so forcefully it sounded as if the last of her soul was leaving her body. "We have nowhere to go!"

"Ms. Dineen," he said, "you are fourteen days late on your rent. That means you're out of here. I made that very clear on Tuesday. I have a business to run and I can't have people tire kicking. You were twelve days late last month, and another twelve the month before. After you begged me to let you rent in the first place."

"I haven't found a babysitter that Ralph is comfortable with nor a job that will let me bring him. I've left messages for my boyfriend. He'll send the money with interest, like last time, I just need..." she looked over her shoulder at the pathetic pile at the curb and her voice faltered a little. "I just need two more days. Please. I have a son."

The landlord flicked his cigarette butt off to the side. "That's not my damn fault."

"Please," she said again, but he was already walking away, into the office, closing the door and flipping the sign in the window to 'closed'. She stood still, staring at the sign, and when she spoke again, it was a whisper.

"It's getting dark."

She stood there for several minutes, composing herself. "Come on, baby," she said, finally. "Mom has to talk to Mr. Garrido again, but he's busy right now. Want to go walk around? It'll be some nice quiet after the craziness today."

She set him down, reaching for his hand. He never took her hand willingly - something that she'd just begun noticing - but he applied pressure, looking up at her with large, uncertain eyes. "Walking is nice," she said. "I have a little bit of money, let's find a place to make a call."

It took thirty minutes to find a pay phone, and Paige shoved her last coins into the slot. "Drew, can you call..."

"Who?"

The voice was unfamiliar. "I-I'm sorry ma'am," she said, thrown off. "I'm looking for Drew Baker. He was staying at this number?"

"Left last month. I dunnow how to reach him."

It took all the control Paige had to not start shaking. He had never even recieved her request for help with rent.

She slammed down the phone, looking down at Ralph. "Okay, Mom made her phone call. Let's go."

"Where?"

I don't know. "Somewhere," she said. "We're going somewhere. And I'll know when we get there, okay?"

"Okay."

She took his hand again, and they marched on.

The news was on. She could see it through the restaurant they were standing outside of. There was a dumpster in the back; they'd walked right by it. Paige's stomach turned at the idea that their next meal might be in there. She felt in her pockets. She had six dollars left. The money was less stressful to her than the lighting. Darkness was falling fast. She's seen once, on TV, a story about a woman who had pushed a dumpster away from a wall, flipping the lid back for a roof, and sleeping underneath it. This restaurant's dumpster was near a corner. She could put Ralph between her body and the wall.

She almost jerked on his hand as she marched away in the opposite direction. No, she thought. If he gets tired I will carry him through the night. He will not sleep on the streets.

She estimated that she'd put six or seven blocks between herself and that restaurant when she stopped at a crosswalk and glanced at the businesses kitty corner from where she stood. One of them had a sign in the window. Closed, it probably said. She blew out a quick breath, her bangs flying.

Then...

As she got closer, her heart began to pound. The sign didn't say closed.

Help wanted.

She was less than ten paces from the door when she stopped, causing Ralph to look at her with confusion. Her mind was racing. How many blocks back was that Dollar Tree? She thought just one. "Want to help Mom with something?" she asked, crouching down in front of her son. "I need a comb, deodorant and a toothbrush. Where can I get that for six dollars?"

Ralph pointed the way they'd come. "Dollar Tree. One block."

She picked him up – his eyelids were drooping, and power walked back to the store. Three plus dollars and fifteen minutes later, she thought she could pull off an interview. "Okay Ralphie," she said. "Let's go talk to that guy who owns that little store we were by earlier."

"What's an ice cream cost?" she asked the man, putting on a smile, wishing she could ask where the bathroom was because her stomach felt like it was being bulldozed.

"One ninety nine for a single scoop. Two twenty nine for a double."

"Can I get a double of vanilla, please?" she said. "For him?"

He nodded gruffly, disappearing into the back.

Paige set Ralph down in a booth in the corner. "I'm getting you some ice cream," she said. "And I'm going to talk to this guy and see if maybe I can work here. Now it's late, so if you could just sit here quietly and eat while we talk, everything will be okay."

"It will?"

There was a slight tremor in his voice, and Paige swallowed hard before responding, nodding along with her words. "Yeah. I promise. In fact," she said, as Nemos approached, setting the ice cream down in front of Ralph, "I swear on this scoop of ice cream."

"Well," he said, scratching the back of his head, "to tell you the truth, I haven't had anyone apply for this job, much less someone as willing to work as you. I've had problems with lazy employees in the past. I can't afford to have someone not work out."

"I can't afford that either," Paige said, nodding slowly, doing her hundredth mental check of how her body language was presenting itself.

"You can start tomorrow?"

She nodded. "Yes. I do have a request."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, um..." No, not um. You can't hesitate. "I need an advance. Two weeks. Forty hours. So my son can sleep in a bed tonight. I know you're thinking, why do that, you don't know her, but..." Paige's voice gained traction. "Here's a couple reasons why you should."

"Tired," he said, rubbing his eyes.

"I know," Paige said, tousling his hair. "We're both tired. You pick what side of the bed you want, okay?"

"Left side," Ralph said. "Radiator is cheap. Loud."

"Okay." Paige pulled the covers back, watching her son curl up and then tucking it around him. She headed back to the door to double check the lock, then sank down on the bed next to Ralph, rubbing his back. She began to sing to him quietly, in the low tone that always seemed to relax him. He was out in a matter of minutes.

Paige let out a deep, heavy sigh, running a hand back through her hair. She sat there for a long time, staring down at her son, barely visible in the dark. Then she removed her hand from his back and headed into the bathroom.

That diner would save their lives. She'd need a second job to afford a place to live. They'd be eating cheap food for months and she'd walk through her shoes before she'd buy another pair. They'd get back on their feet and they'd go...

Somewhere.

She'd find their Somewhere someday. This job would sustain her and Ralph until they found it. They were one of the lucky ones. She knew it. But she was still terrified of what lay ahead and exhausted from keeping it together all evening long and providing her son with a bit of stability in a day when everything had literally fallen apart. And for right now, she was tired of being strong.

Paige turned on the shower, and then sank down on the floor in front of the toilet. She curled up in a ball and sobbed so hard she was certain the entire hotel shook with her.

In the next room, Ralph slumbered on.