by Hamel, B. B.
“Okay then. Climb on down and go see your… uh…”
“Dad,” I finish for her.
“Right, Dad.”
Annie climbs down and walks over to me.
“Sorry about that,” I say.
“It’s okay. I have a lot of, uh… there were a lot of kids around when I grew up.”
“Big family.”
“Something like that.”
Annie takes my hand. “Dig trucks,” she says. “Come, Daddy. Dig trucks.”
“You go on ahead, Annie. I can see you from here.”
She frowns at me but sighs and walks on. She’s got a boatload of personality, my little toddler. She stomps through the grass and I watch her stop at her sandbox, getting down in the dirt, hands on her trucks again.
“She hasn’t figured out the rules to this yet,” I say. “She’ll learn. I won’t let her bother you all the time.”
“Thanks, but I really don’t mind. She’s a good kid. I can tell.”
“She’s a handful.”
“Is her mother, uh, around?”
I grin at her. “You know that’s sort of a rude question, right?”
She blushes. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. Annie’s mother died a few months after she was born.”
“Shit,” Kim says again. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say, even though it isn’t. Not losing Stacey, anyway, but asking about it’s okay. “I think Annie just likes having another girl around.”
“Probably. Funny how they start to gravitate to their own gender at such a young age, right?”
I laugh a little. “It’s all funny at this age.”
“Good point. People call them the terrible twos and it’s kind of true, but I like that age. They’re developing little personalities.”
“She’s got a lot of that already, that’s for sure.” I smile at Kim and put a hand up. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it.”
“No problem. I’m just sitting around back here anyway.”
I cock my head. “It’s probably not my business, but do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Sure,” she says. “Go ahead.”
“Do you have a job around here?”
“Not yet,” she says, laughing nervously. “But don’t worry. I have plenty of money saved up and—”
“I know, I know, I saw,” I say.
She blushes. “Right. Checking account. I got that, too. Sorry.”
“You don’t need to keep apologizing. I was only asking because you seem sort of… bored.”
“Well, you did say this was a boring town. Figured I’d get used to it, right?”
I laugh at that. “Yeah, good point. Have you explored much?”
“Not much,” she admits. “Been on a few long walks though.”
“There’s a diner not far from here, maybe a ten-minute hike across town.”
“Luanne’s?” she asks.
“That’s the one.”
“How is it?”
“Best diner in the world, and I’ve been to a few in my time. But they’re also hiring, Luanne herself needs a new waitress.”
“Yeah, really?”
“Really. I work security for a company around here and they’re part of my route, so I talk to her sometimes. I can put in a good word, if you want.”
“That’d be amazing.” She perks up. “Is being a waitress hard?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Probably. Do you like people?”
“I think so.”
“How’s your memory?”
“Not bad.”
“Can you carry plates?”
“I’ve been known to dabble.”
“Well then,” I say, grinning at her. “Sounds like you’re qualified.”
“Perfect.” She laughs with me for a second. I like the way she laughs, so easy and free. But when we finish, I see her guard come back up, like her shields raising.
“Anyway, I’ll let you know what Luanne says.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“Sure. And if Annie starts bothering you, just let me know.”
“I will, but really, she’s not a bother.”
“You say that now, but trust me, that kid is tenacious.” I turn to head back up to the house.
“Hey, uh, Erik?”
I look back at her. “Yeah?”
“Thanks. Really. This, uh… this is great.” She blushes a little and looks away.
“Glad you’re here, Kim.” I head back to the house and smile at Annie as I pass.
I sit back on the porch for a minute, looking at the little guest house, my new tenant sitting back there and reading out of sight.
She’s young and pretty, really pretty, but she seems lost. Or like she’s trying to be lost, at any rate. I’ve seen people like her over the years, especially back when I was a cop in Chicago. Runaways, stowaways, homeless folks, people running from something. People with a past they’d rather not remember.
People with scars.
She doesn’t show it, but I can see it anyway. Twitchy, doesn’t want to make eye contact, quick to apologize, quick to thank. She’s young, can’t be more than twenty-five, but already I can tell she’s been through something
I just wish I knew what.
But that’s not my business.
I want to go back there and sit with her, just to watch her lips move. I haven’t been interested in women since Stacey passed, but it’s been over a year and a half, and I guess that part of me is still around, still alive and kicking. I should keep my distance from that girl, especially if I’m going to want her like this.
I don’t have time to get involved. I can’t afford attachments. I have my daughter to worry about.
She’s the center of my world, my little Annie. I moved here for her, got this house for her. I work four days a week as a shitty roving security guard, checking on businesses during the day, sometimes working an overnight shift. The pay isn’t great, but I own the house outright and the money’s enough to afford groceries. With the extra income from the guest house, we’ll be able to put a little away for Annie’s future.
That’s all I want or need. The rest of my time’s spent fixing up the house or playing with Annie. I work, I cook, I clean, I read her stories, I play games with her.
That’s my world now. I’m just her dad and a part-time security guard.
My old life is gone, washed clean when Stacey passed on.
But that girl back there, she woke something up in me. Something that I thought might never come back.
“Daddy!”
I stand up and smile, leaning against the railing. It’s a little loose. I’ll have to replace the whole damn thing eventually.
“Come, Daddy,” she says. “Come, Daddy, come!”
I walk toward her, grinning like a moron. My Annie can tell me to do anything she wants and I’ll come running.
“All right, you show me what we’re playing, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy.”
I get down in the sand with her, pick up a truck, and we play.
And I try not to think about the beautiful girl living in my back yard.
3
Kim
Luanne looks at me over her glasses and narrows her eyes. “You said you could start… when?”
“Whenever,” I say. “I’m pretty much free whenever.”
“Mhmm.” Luanne checks a paper and sighs. “Well, sweetie, I have to say. We don’t get a lot of people from California in these parts.”
“I bet,” I say, smiling a little. “I’m a long way from home.”
“Bet you miss it.”
“Not at all.”
“Plan on staying long?”
I nod a little. “Yeah, sure. I’m going to try to anyway. Getting a job will help a lot with that.”
She smiles a bit. “I bet.” She sighs and puts her papers down. “Well, all right then. Erik says you’re a nice girl, you seem smart enoug
h, and let’s be real, it’s not exactly rocket science. You want to start on Monday?”
I stare at her. “Really?”
“Really, really. Pay isn’t amazing, minimum plus tips, but you’ll do okay on busy days. If you want more, you can work nights. The drunks from the pub down the street come in after midnight and they always tip real good.”
“That’d be amazing. Wow, really, that’s so amazing.”
Luanne laughs and gives me the first smile of the whole job interview. “Well, okay then. Welcome to Summersville, Kim. I look forward to getting to know you better.”
“You too.” I stand up and we shake hands. She’s a small woman, stocky with rough hands and a head of curly black hair. She’s in her fifties, maybe a little older, but her eyes are sharp and she looks like she’s always frowning, except for when she smiles.
I hurry out of her office and back through the diner. It’s a nice place, a little rundown, but I’ve seen worse during my traveling days. I hitchhiked all the way across this great country and I’ve seen pretty much everything at this point. And even though it’s just a waitressing job, it feels like the biggest deal in the whole world.
I’m putting down roots. The idea scares me and excites me all at the same time. I’ve been on the move for so long, just trying to keep my head above water, that I haven’t really thought about much else.
Now though, I want to settle down. I want a place of my own, a job of my own. Maybe even a little extra pocket money on the side. This isn’t going to make me rich, but it’s definitely a start.
I wave to the woman with blonde hair and a perky smile working behind the counter.
“Get the job?” she asks. Her name tag says Donna.
“Sure did.”
“Atta girl. See you soon, I guess.”
“Yeah, see you.” I wave and walk outside. It’s a nice day and I’m smiling as I stroll back to the house, whistling a little bit to myself.
I can’t remember the last time I was this happy. Maybe back in California, before I realized what my life had become. There were some good days back then, days when I felt really alive, a lot like I do now. I smile at the sunshine on my face and the blacktop under my feet, and I don’t even think about it when I walk down the driveway toward the main house.
I hop up the front steps and knock on the door, still beaming. I feel like nothing can get me down, like nothing can go wrong.
The door opens and Erik stares out at me. I take a step back, my eyes going wide.
He’s wearing a pair of dirty jeans with holes ripped in the knees and no shirt. His body is slightly sweaty and I gape at his muscular arms, his ripped chest and abs. The man is in amazing shape, seriously incredible shape, and my heart starts beating fast.
“Uh,” I say.
“Kim.” He frowns a little. “What’s up?”
“Oh, uh. I went to see Luanne.” I look him in the eye as fast as I can. “I got the job.”
He doesn’t smile. “Congrats.”
“I just wanted to say thanks. Uh, for the help. I think that’s why I got the job.”
“Happy to help. Maybe a little selfish, since you having a job is in my best interest.”
“Either way, uh, I appreciate it.”
We linger there for a second. “You know you’re not supposed to come to the house, right?”
“I know, I just—”
“It’s okay,” he says. “I get it. You forgot. And anyway, Annie’s at daycare right now.”
“Yeah?”
“Come in. We’ll celebrate the good news.”
I hesitate but he walks back inside and I follow him. The entryway is gorgeous and the floors are all original wood. They need to be refinished, but I can tell they were beautiful once upon a time. There’s original molding all over, intricate and gorgeous. Some of the paint’s flaking off in patches and the gaudy wallpaper in the hallway’s peeling back, but the bones of the house are incredible.
We come into the kitchen and I can instantly see why he’s sweating. The whole place is a wreck. All the cabinets are torn out, everything ripped up. “You’re redoing the kitchen?”
“Figured I’d have to start somewhere,” he says. “Sorry about the mess.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“Go on, sit out back. You want a beer?”
“That’d be great.”
He nods and disappears through a hallway. I step out the back door and sit down on one of the rocking chairs there. He joins me a second later, wearing a black t-shirt. He puts a fresh, cold beer down on the arm next to me before sitting in the empty chair. I wish he had left the shirt off, and I blush a little bit at the thought.
“Here’s to a job,” he says. We toast and I take a long sip.
“Must be a lot of work,” I say. “Fixing up this house with a little girl.”
“You’re not kidding.”
“Single dad, rebuilding the house… and you built that guest house too, right?”
“Well, remodeled it, but yeah.”
“That’s amazing, honestly.”
“Helps that Annie’s a good kid.”
I smile a little. “She’s really cute.”
“Yeah, she is.” He hesitates. “Truth is, she gets a little attached to new women. That’s why I have that rule about not coming to the house. I don’t want her to get… you know. Attached to you.”
“Oh,” I say.
“Yeah. I know it’s a weird thing, I just…”
“I get it. You have to protect her.”
“Right.” He sips his beer again. “Anyway, glad you got that job. Luanne’s really nice, you’ll like her.”
“She seems pretty nice already. I mean, she hired me on the spot.”
“Not much competition, I bet.” He laughs a little. “Not a lot of people moving into Summersville.”
“You did though.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I sure did.”
I want to ask more but I get the sense that he’s not going to share, so I let it drop. We drink our beer in silence, comfortable silence. That happy glow from getting the job comes back, maybe helped along by the beer.
“You know, I’ve never seen a house like this,” I comment.
“Yeah? Me neither, if I’m honest. I’m from Chicago, born and raised.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Only moved here after Annie’s mom passed. This house was a foreclosure and I basically used all my savings to grab it up. Paid cash, got it straight out, no mortgage… but as you can see, it needs a lot of work.”
“Still, it’s kind of amazing, right?”
“I think so.” He cocks his head. “You want a tour?”
“Really? I don’t want to intrude.”
“No, it’s fine. I need a break anyway.” He stands up and smiles. “Coming?”
“Love to.” I get up and follow him inside.
He shows me the kitchen, or what’s left of it. There’s a downstairs bathroom, but it’s old and needs to be totally refinished. Laundry area in the basement, which is covered in spiderwebs with a dusty concrete floor. There’s a nice living room, furnished with a comfortable couch and a decent TV with little kids’ toys all over the place.
“Sorry for the mess,” he comments, taking me upstairs. “Railings are original, all the little details are original. I think this house was built in the 1880s or thereabout, not really sure honestly.”
The stairs creak under our weight as we climb. Upstairs is strangely open with a few different rooms. The master bedroom isn’t large, but it’s comfortable, with a big bed and a big dresser. There’s an attached bathroom, probably not original, or so he thinks.
“And that’s it,” he says. We linger out in the hallway, gravitating down toward the window that overlooks the back yard.
“It’s amazing,” I say. “Honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“Yeah? Well, I think it’ll be pretty fantastic once I’m finished, if I ever finish.”
�
�Are you a carpenter or something?” I ask.
He laughs. “Nah. I was a cop back in Chicago. I guess I’m just handy.”
“Cop?” I ask, surprised. “You don’t seem like a cop.”
“What’s a cop seem like?”
“Asshole,” I blurt out.
He laughs at that. “Yeah, okay. I’ll admit, lots of cops are assholes.”
“Sorry,” I say, blushing. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay, really. You traveled out here alone, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“Ran into some asshole cops along the way?”
I hesitate. “Yeah, I did,” I admit.
“Problem is, cops are like anyone else. They’re people. Some of them are nice guys, out to protect and serve. Some of them are real fucking pricks, except they’re pricks with a badge and a gun.”
“Most cops don’t admit that.”
“True. There’s a brotherhood that comes with being a cop. Lots of danger, lots of shit… but I’m not a cop anymore. Left that behind.”
“Do you miss it?”
He frowns a little, considering. “Maybe,” he says. “Sometimes. I worked a lot though, didn’t spend enough time at home, and then…” He trails off and stops. “Anyway, yeah, I miss it sometimes, but I don’t plan on going back anytime soon.”
I lapse into silence and look out the window. I can remember some of the asshole cops I met on the road, but I can also remember a few nice ones. Like a guy in Oklahoma that gave me a ride after dark and let me sleep in an empty cell with the door open, just because I was cold that night. And a guy that picked me up when I was hitching, let me ride up front with him, drove me to the next town over and let me out. He’s right, there were some nice cops.
“I might be a little biased against cops,” I admit.
“All right, that’s okay. Admitting it is the first step toward redemption.”
I laugh and turn back. He’s standing close, looking out the window over my shoulder, and we’re inches apart. He’s handsome and smells good. I can’t help myself, breathing in deep and looking up into his gorgeous eyes.
He looks back and a little smile plays on his lips.
“Maybe I can help with your little cop prejudice,” he says. “Show you we’re not all a bunch of donut-eating, power-hungry dicks.”