How It Has to Be

by T. S. Joyce

  “Where do you live?” she asked curiously. “Up in the mountains?”

  He grunted an answer.

  “Did you just move here?”

  His grunt took on a different tone, and she thought it meant ‘no.’

  “I’ve been here for eight years and I’ve never seen you in town. I would’ve remembered seeing you. You’re…”

  “I’m what?”

  “You’re different.”

  “Maybe that’s why I don’t come to town.”

  He didn’t seem to like questions so she went quiet and just enjoyed walking beside his gargantuan frame. She was a taller woman at five-eight, but he made her feel like a shrimp.

  He cast her a quick side glance. “You smell like pancake batter and bacon grease.” Brick cleared his throat and said, “I read that women like compliments.”

  Her smelling like bacon grease was a compliment? She sniffed her shoulder and yep, he was right.

  “I like bacon,” he said.

  “Oh. Well, thank you for the compliment then. I think your eyes are very interesting and I like when you come to the diner.”

  “You do?”

  She nodded. “You’re a good break from the monotony of the days here.”

  “You don’t like it here?” he asked.

  “Oh, I like it some. It’s not my hometown though.”

  “Why are you here?” His questions were blunt, but she was getting used to the way he spoke.

  “My ex lives here. It’s his hometown, and I moved here eight years ago after I met him. He asked me to come live here, so I did. And then when I had Tucker, I realized I couldn’t leave. The courts won’t let me move more than a county away from his dad. So…here I stay.”

  “If he died, you could move,” Brick said.

  Eeee. “Yes, but I wouldn’t wish death on him.”

  The look of disappointment on the man’s face made her laugh. He was a rough-and-tumble sort of man. Probably had been in a fight or a hundred in his day, although she couldn’t even imagine anyone testing him.

  “I think I would like it here if I had stuff to do outside of my boring everyday life, you know?” she admitted.

  “You’re raising your kid. It’s a lot of work.”

  “Yeah, and I don’t have much help. My parents live in Kentucky, where I’m from, and they come to visit as much as they can but it’s mostly just me.”

  “The dad doesn’t help?”

  “Um, he hasn’t paid me child support or helped pay a single doctor, insurance, dentist, or grocery bill for Tucker since he was four. And he only gets him three or four days every couple of weeks, but most of the time he’s late or doesn’t show up at all. He doesn’t really bond with Tucker, just takes him so I can’t take him back to court for more child support. Like I have money to do that. Mostly Archer takes him to his parent’s house and drops him off and then comes back to pick him up when he has to bring Tucker back to me.”

  “His grandparents are nice to him?” Brick asked.

  “Yes. I’m actually okay with him dropping Tucker off at their house. They’re good to him and I know he gets fed and has his own little room and a bike over there. They take him on little adventures. If he stayed with his dad, it would just be in whatever girlfriend’s house he has this month.”

  “Why did you breed with a man like that?” His voice was very snarly now.

  Breed? That was a cold way of putting it. “I guess because I thought he was the one. And I thought we were going to be a team. A family.”

  “That’s not what happened,” Brick said.

  “No, that’s not what happened. Anyway, now that you know how boring I am, I’m sure you will never want to talk to me again,” she teased.

  “You’re not boring. Your life seems…complicated.”

  She scrunched up her face and turned up the walkway for the post office. “Complicated sounds even worse.”

  “What do you do other than be a mom and work?” he asked.

  Trinity slid the bills into the post office box and shrugged. “Nothing. My life is like that movie Groundhog Day. Have you ever seen it? I relive the same day over and over. Get griped at by Miranda at least once a shift, refill coffee mugs a hundred times a day, juggle being a single mom, deal with Tucker’s dad, go to church on Sundays, call my parents every Monday and Friday, and sleep and eat. I don’t really fit in here. God, why am I telling you all of this? I sound pathetic, but I just haven’t had anyone to talk to and I guess it’s nice to tell someone about my frustrations. Which is crazy because usually I’m the queen of pretending everything is completely fine. My car broke down.” Her stupid eyes burned with tears. “My car broke down and I just got my plumbing in my house fixed but the gutters are coming down and my hot water heater is on the fritz and at any moment my heat is going to go and there is no one to…no one to…” She inhaled deeply and bit her lip hard to stop the tremble there. “There’s no one.”

  “You feel alone,” he said.

  A helpless little whimper came out of her throat. Afraid she would spill all the tears she’d been holding back for the last several years, she just nodded. Alone. Yes, that’s how she felt.

  Brick nodded solemnly. “I understand alone. You’re a very tough human. I don’t think you ask for help much. I don’t think you cry much either, because you keep looking down at my boots like it’ll make you invisible from me. Lift up.”

  “What?” she squeaked out, lifting her gaze to his.

  “Good. You don’t drop your shoulders when you have a hard time. You show no pain.” He reached out like he was going to grip her shoulders, but jerked back and looked startled right before he winced in pain. Slowly, he lifted his nose in the air and clasped his hands behind his back. That’s when she noticed the dark wet spot on his shoulder.

  “Do you have any friends who can take you out when you don’t have Tucker?”

  “My best friend moved away last year. I don’t have a lot of friends. I’ve always been a person with a small circle, I guess. I know lots of people but no one to go out with.” She frowned at his shoulder. The wetness seemed to be spreading down his arm. “There’s something on your shirt.”

  Brick angled his shoulder away from her. “Where is your car?”

  “Um, it’s back by the diner. It won’t start.”

  He did an about-face and began walking in the direction they came from. But from here, trotting along behind him to catch up, the dark spot on his shoulder looked even bigger. Had he fallen in the snow? Or maybe walked under an awning that was dripping with the melting stuff?

  She jogged a little faster and brushed her fingertips against his shirt, but Brick lurched away and rounded on her, fire in his eyes. “You can’t do that,” he murmured inches from her face. “There’s rules. I can’t touch you and you can’t touch me. Okay?”

  Breath shaking, she nodded. “I…I’m…” Don’t say sorry. “Okay.”

  Brick’s attention dipped to her lips, and he eased back a few steps. “You have blood on your hands now.” He cast a quick glance up to the sky, then walked away. He muttered a curse under his breath, but she heard it.

  When she looked up at the sky, all she saw were storm clouds and a bird flying high above them.

  You have blood on your hands now.

  He was right. Her fingertips where she’d touched his shoulder were stained with crimson.

  Brick was bleeding.

  When he wanted to, that man could walk faster than anyone she’d ever known. His strides were long and deliberate, and she didn’t catch up to him until he was almost to the diner. He lifted his nose into the air and his nostrils flared before he veered off to the left and straight to her Jeep.

  “Brick? I think you’re hurt,” she punched out between labored breaths. Gads, he was fast!

  “I’m fine.” The snarl was back in his voice.

  “I’m really good at first aid. I was raised with three older brothers and they were all idiots. Man-plans everywhere. They bled
all the time.”

  He popped the hood of her Jeep and poked around the inside. “Go try to start your car,” he said.

  And she did. She settled behind the wheel and turned the key, but once again it failed to start. The engine just made some chugging noises before it died.

  Brick stood off to the side frowned at the Jeep. “Again.”

  She tried again and Clyde struggled for even less time before giving up. Brick’s eyes lit up and he made his way back to her ride. He poked around for a couple of minutes while she hung out of her open window checking out his sexy butt while pretending to be interested in whatever he was doing to her Jeep.

  “It’s not the alternator,” he muttered. “You got lucky.” And then he left. Left her hood up, left her there hanging out of her window like a schnauzer on its way to the dog park, just vamoosed.

  Okay, she was probably supposed to stay here, right? Not that she had a choice—her Jeep was taking a sick day today.

  Determined to try and be a little bit useful, she pulled the owner’s manual out of the glove compartment and started looking up trouble shooting. She glanced up the street and caught sight of that sexy, monstrous man striding her way with a paper bag in his hands. Grandly, she announced, “It might be the battery.”

  “It is the battery and also the cables,” he enlightened her.

  Oh. She didn’t see anything mentioned about cables in the section she’d skimmed.

  He pulled out a new battery and some wire lookin’ thingies and went to work like he was a car mechanic.

  “Do you work in a shop?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Well, did you build cars with your dad when you were a kid or something?” she asked.

  Brick huffed a humorless sound. “Fuck no. I would rather set my dick on fire than build a car with my dad.”

  “Huh. He sounds like a gem.”

  “He’s dead and good riddance.” Brick stooped and picked up the old battery and wires he’d removed, then shoved them in the paper bag. “Start it again.”

  She did, and it took a couple times but it caught and roared to life. She whooped in celebration and did her favorite victory shimmy dance.

  “You are the best!” she crowed. “You’re the best best best!”

  He was staring at her smile again, and something amazing happened. Brick’s lips curved up just a little, and God, that little smile was magnificent.

  “You have a great smile,” she told him.

  The expression faded from his face and he looked confused. He ran his hand down his short beard slowly.

  “Look at you, looking so dashing with your new haircut and trimmed beard and smiling. I don’t think I’ve seen you do that.” She pointed to his shoulder. “Do you want me to take you to the hospital or something? Since you won’t let me touch you?” she asked. “I think it’s bleeding a lot.”

  “I’ve had worse. I’ll be fine.” Brick closed the hood of her Jeep and shook his head. “You get your son back tomorrow. You should go out tonight. Take a break from the boring and complicated.” A little quirk of his lips that was almost, almost another smile appeared.

  “Oh, I have a huge night planned. Frozen dinner, my ugliest most comfortable pajamas, and a date with my television.”

  He nodded and started walking toward his truck.

  “Hey, Brick,” she called out.

  He turned and cocked his head.

  “Thank you. Seriously. I owe you. Just tell me the cost of the battery and I’ll pay you back next time you come into the diner.”

  “I don’t want your money.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “I want the crows to leave you alone.”

  The crows? She didn’t know what it was about this man and crows, but there weren’t any birds in sight. Not in the air and not on the street. Not even the little cute birds that hopped around the snowy sidewalks searching for crumbs.

  And again, she made a silent little wish.

  She hoped he would come to the diner again tomorrow.

  Chapter Four

  Brick hadn’t come in to the diner this morning.

  Trinity set the plate of chips and half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of Tucker at the little kitchen table in their home.

  “Thank you, Mom.” Her boy dug in and she ran her nails through his hair, ruffling it up. She needed to take him in for a haircut soon, or maybe just try to do it herself. She could watch how-to videos and perhaps figure it out. At least until money wasn’t so tight anymore.

  Brick probably thought she was lame for breaking down in front of him yesterday and now she would never see him again. That’s what boys did when a woman’s life was too much—they pushed them out, or left.

  A knock sounded on the door. She wasn’t expecting anyone today, so she checked the peephole. Brick stood a few yards off the porch. Shocked, Trinity lurched away from the door. Not because she was scared of the man randomly showing up at her house, but because she looked like flaming garbage right now.

  She bolted to the full-length mirror in her room and yanked the hairband out of her ponytail, ran a brush through it, and smeared on some lip gloss.

  “Who is it, Mom?” Tucker asked as she speed-walked back to the door, pulling on a red sweater over her leggings as she went.

  “It’s the man who gave you pancakes,” she told him as she pulled the door open to…nothing. “Brick?” she called out as she made her way around the corner of the front porch.

  He was standing near the garage studying the gutters, which were barely hanging on.

  He wore a blue baseball cap on backward, a black hoodie, work jeans, and thick-soled boots. A pair of worn work gloves hung out of his back pocket.

  “I thought you weren’t going to answer the door,” he told her, those strange eyes locked on her. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” Good God, that sexy, snarly voice! “I looked up your name online. There’s way too much information about you on the damn internet. I don’t like it.”

  Actually, she wasn’t too thrilled that just anyone could type in her name and find her address either, but at least there was a bright side—Brick had found her. “I wanted to answer the door faster, but I was trying to fix my hair and look less homely,” she said through a giggle as she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the cold wind.

  “Hi,” Tucker said from behind her legs.

  The man dipped his attention to her son and nodded once. “Hello.”

  “What are you doing?” Tucker asked.

  Brick pointed to the sagging gutters. “Gonna fix some shit.”

  Tucker gasped at the cuss word and gripped her legs. Trinity smiled and reached behind her to rest her hand on his back.

  “You don’t have to fix anything,” she told Brick. The prideful part of her said that, but the relieved and grateful part of her sighed and thanked him when he said, “I’m off work and don’t have anything to do today.”

  Trinity told him, “I have a ladder in the garage but it isn’t tall enough to reach. I tried last weekend.”

  “I brought mine.” He shifted his weight to the other side and took a quick study of her outfit. “You couldn’t look homely if you tried.” And then he left her there staring after him, wondering if her heart was actually going to eject itself from her chest. His words touched her so deeply. It was just a simple compliment but goodness, it had been a while since she’d felt as pretty as he made her feel.

  “Are you hungry?” she called out as he made his way to his giant red truck taking up most of the uneven driveway.

  “Always,” he answered without turning around.

  “Okay buddy, let’s go make the nice man a sandwich.” But when she turned around, Tucker had disappeared back inside.

  Uh oh, maybe he was a little startled by seeing a man at her house. She hadn’t brought men around since she’d left his dad because she wasn’t ready, and she wanted to make sure Tucker was ready, too.

  She made her way insid
e and straight to his room, but as it turned out, Tucker wasn’t scared at all. He was in there strapping on the play tool belt she’d gotten him last Christmas, and was already wearing his little baseball hat. This was the first time she’d ever seen him wear it backward. Okay then.

  “What about your lunch?” she asked.

  “Can I eat it with Mr. Bear?”

  “Oh, that’s not his name. His name is Brick.”

  Tucker’s green eyes went somber. “Okay.”

  “How about you eat your lunch and let him work a bit and then we will play in the front yard?”

  Tucker looked utterly disappointed but nodded his head and lumbered into the kitchen to finish his lunch.

  Trinity caught a glimpse of Brick through the window carrying a massive ladder like he hadn’t been bleeding like a stuck pig just yesterday. He was very, very tough.

  And he’d listened to her breakdown and was here trying to help and take some of the pressure off her.

  She’d been mistaken when she’d assumed that he’d bailed after her honest admissions yesterday.

  He wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met before.

  Chapter Five

  Brick climbed down the last few rungs of his ladder before moving it to the next section of gutters. This would’ve been a lot faster and easier if he could just jump up and down from the roof and not pretend he was a human, but he wouldn’t trade this. He liked Trinity being so close.

  He turned to readjust the ladder and the little boy was there, a little tool belt and toy hammer tied at his waist with his blond hair tucked under a little hat.

  “What are you doing?” Brick asked, using the boy’s earlier words.

  “Fixin’ shit.”

  Brick’s lips twitched. “Ha. Haha.” What the hell was that? Had he just laughed? “Maybe don’t say that word in front of your momma.”

  “Mom says bad words, too.”

  He liked the kid’s honesty. Brick gestured to his tool belt. “You got some gloves in there?”

  The boy rifled around in his belt and found some plastic wrenches and a measuring tape, and not much else. “I have some inside.” He sprinted for the door and disappeared inside, returning one minute later with a pair of bright yellow dishwashing gloves on. They want all the way up his little arms.