by Ari Reavis
“Alright guys. You know the drill. We’re checking to make sure everything is up to par. We’ll split up, six of us to an apartment building. Stan, you’re with me.”
He nods as people pair off with each other. I put on my hard hat, even though I technically don’t need it now that the project is finished. But I certainly don’t need a cop showing up and seeing me without one. And with how much cops seem to love bothering me at work, one showing up wasn’t a long shot. I glance back at Stanley at the thought, once again wanting to point out to him what I mean when I tell him about his actions having long lasting consequences. I hadn’t been in any type of trouble since I was eighteen, and yet I was still dealing with the ramifications of what a younger, much dumber me had done.
We walk into the building on the right, and my mind shifts to business. I inspect every aspect of the building entryway while Stanley goes into the apartment on the left with two guys. Another three go into the apartment on the right. I join Stanley after being satisfied that the entryway will surely pass inspection.
As we go through the apartments on each floor, making sure this project is done the way I expect it to be, I can’t help but think of the next project. It’s more than three times the size of this development. Bigger, grander than anything I’ve ever done. Doubt begins to creep in. Can I do it? Should the project have gone to someone with more experience, a bigger crew, someone who won’t have cops hounding his every footstep while he’s on site?
Shaking my head, I dislodge those thoughts. I learned long ago that letting others dictate who I am could only lead to me losing myself. My parents had helped me find my way again. Mr. Roberts, the man who’d accepted me into his outreach program, much like the one I run now, had helped me realize my hands could be used for more than mischief and mayhem. That they could help me build a life instead of tearing mine down.
Stanley laughs in the corner of the room with another employee, and I look over at him, wondering if it's possible for me to make a difference in his life the way Mr. Roberts had made in mine. If I can get him to see his potential. If I can make him see that there’s more for him than all he’s ever known. I hope so.
“Okay. Everything in this building looks great,” I say when we all meet back out in the hallway. “Let’s see if anyone else found anything that needs fixing.”
“Like you haven’t been watching our every step,” Stanley jokes as we walk back down the stairs to the entryway.
“I like things to be done the way they’re supposed to the first time. Saves everyone time and effort later. And I have a reputation to uphold. You’d do well to remember that for when you have your own business one day.”
“Me, have a business?” He laughs, and it fills me with sadness. “Yeah, right. What am I gonna do?”
“Open up a pharmacy,” Carlos, one of the other guys who came to me through the outreach program jokes.
“The jokes you tell reveal everything you guys think about yourselves.” I shake my head. “We just built three apartment buildings from nothing, from the ground up. Even if you don’t want to do construction for a career, realize that being able to do this means you can do more than you ever even thought to put your mind to. Think bigger guys.”
They share a glance before nodding my way. We continue walking until we meet up with the other groups of people.
“I want to thank you all for your hard work,” I begin to say. “We certainly had our hardships with this job...”
There’s a chuckle that goes through the small crowd. From equipment being stolen during our second month here to windows coming in the wrong sizes to it raining for what felt like half the job, this project hadn’t been an easy one.
“But I appreciate everyone showing up every day and giving me their best. I look forward to working with you all on our next project. I’ll let you guys go early today, and see you at the new site on Monday.”
Their smiles grow at being let out of work before it’s even lunch time. Most of the equipment has already been removed, the guys only needing to grab their personal tools before quickly heading to their cars.
“You need a ride?” I ask Stanley.
He shakes his head. “I think I’ll stay around here, if you don’t mind. Not much to really do at home.”
I’d intended to head home too, make sure I had plenty of time before my date with Mariah, but with his words, my plans change.
“Actually, you can help me with figuring some things out for the new project if you’re gonna stay.”
He gives me a small smile. “Sure, I can do that. We all know you’d be helpless without me anyway.”
I chuckle. “Sure kid.”
“Always with the kid. I’m twenty years old.”
I scoff. “The fact that you think that’s what makes you an adult means you’re definitely still a kid. I cannot tell you all the things I thought I had figured out at twenty that I now know I absolutely no idea about.”
“But you see, that’s just it. You fucked up, didn’t have any idea about where your life was headed, but you turned out okay. So why are you always riding me to have everything figured out right now?”
“I don’t expect you to have everything figured out right now, to know where you’re headed, or even to know where the future leads you. I just need you to realize that you can’t go back to where you were. You’ve got one foot in the past and one in the present. That foot in the past is all your past needs to drag you back to everything you should be trying to run away from. You’ve already been arrested, barely avoided jail time by being in this program. Do you think a judge is going to give you another chance if you’re brought in front of him for the same thing?”
“No,” he murmurs.
“No. So you need to make sure you never put yourself in that situation again. That’s all I need you to get through your head. You don’t know where you’re gonna be at thirty, even twenty-five, but I need you to begin envisioning yourself somewhere other than on a corner, jail, or dead. Got it?”
“I’m trying man.”
“I know you are. Which is why I keep pushing because I see that potential in you. I think you’re beginning to see it too.”
Squinting his eyes, he holds his thumb and pointer finger together before him with an inch of space between them. “A little bit.”
“Well, make it a lot.” I chuckle as we enter my trailer. “You wanna order some lunch?”
He grins. “Now we’re talking.”
A lot of burgers and a few hours later, I head home to get ready for my date. I’m just stepping out of the shower, picking up my phone to look for a restaurant when I get a text from my dad.
Dad: I made a reservation for you at Carla’s Place. I took your mother there a few years ago, and it’s perfect for a date.
Me: No confidence in me, Dad?
As I wait for his reply, I look up the restaurant. It’s easy to see why my dad picked it.
Dad: All the confidence. Just a helping hand. If you already made other plans, I can just call and cancel.
Me: We’ll go there. Looks really nice. Thanks. I appreciate it.
Dad: No problem. Oh, and uh... I told your mother. Ok, bye. Have a good night.
I shake my head before putting my phone down. Should have known he wouldn’t be able to keep anything away from her. I get dressed, putting on a button-down shirt and black jeans with black boots, before leaving to head to the flower shop.
When I pull up to Mariah’s house, my eyes widen and not in a good way. This place is run-down and doesn’t look at all like somewhere someone like her would live. Straightening my shirt and pulling my sleeves down from below my elbows, I grab the flower before walking to her door. My eyes take in everything as I ring the bell, not able to help but see at least five things I would change on just the front of the house alone. But then Mariah opens the door and my attention is solely on her beautiful smile.
“Hey,” Mariah says before motioning for me to come inside.
“Ho
w are you?” I ask, extending the white rose to her.
“I’m good,” she replies while bringing the rose to her nose. “Even better now. Give me a sec. I’m almost ready.”
“No rush.”
She closes the door behind me and gestures for me to have a seat on the couch. I only get a glimpse of her outfit before she hurries down the hallway. Although the inside isn’t much better, she’s managed to make it very homely. Her living room has a loveseat across from the mounted TV and two reclining chairs on the ends. The coffee table is covered in magazines about hobbies and crafts.
“Is the construction worker in you just dying being here?” Her voice gets closer until she reappears in the living room.
“How did you know?” I chuckle, but it’s cut off when I look at her.
Damn, she’s gorgeous. She has on a black shirt that meets her jeans in the front, but comes down almost to the floor in the back. Her jeans hug her thighs, and I instantly have thoughts of peeling those jeans off her later. When she clears her throat, I look up at her face, and those light brown eyes have all my attention.
There’s amusement in them as she arches a brow and with the better lighting in here than there was in the café, I notice a cut that goes through it, a slash where no hair grows a few inches long. My eyes go lower to the sexy smirk on her full lips. Her olive skin tone stands out even more tonight against her shirt and with her dark brown hair falling around her face in loose curls.
“You look stunning,” I finally say.
“Thank you.” She smiles.
“What were you saying?” My mind has decided to go completely blank.
“I said, is this house killing the construction worker in you?”
“God, yes. What’s going on here?”
“I brought it as a fixer-upper. Dirt cheap, but I haven’t exactly gotten around to the fixing up part.”
“When you say dirt cheap, I hope you mean you literally paid for the dirt this house sits on because otherwise...” I whistle.
“Hey. My baby isn’t that bad. She just needs a coat of paint and a facelift.”
I give her a dead look. “Your baby needs major surgery, as in everything inside and out needs to be redone. How old is this house?”
“Built in the fifties.”
“That explains the wallpaper.” I cringe.
She throws her head back and laughs. It is an utterly beautiful sound. After she grabs her jacket and purse, we head to my car. The moment she’s in the passenger seat, she leans over to fiddle with the radio. By the time I get into the car, she has a song playing.
“So where are we off to?” she asks.
“Dinner, live music, some dancing,” I answer.
“Sounds good. So how was your day?”
“Pretty good. Got started planning things for the development I closed on last night.”
“What will you be building?”
“An apartment complex.”
Her eyebrows raise, an impressed look on her face, and damn if that doesn’t fill me with pride for some reason.
“How long do you think it will take?” she inquires.
“There’s ten buildings, so I’m hoping it’ll take a year.”
“Well hopefully I can come see it sometime.”
“I would love that.” I smile.
When we pull up to the restaurant, there’s a few people waiting outside to get in, making me even more grateful my dad called ahead and made a reservation.
“I hope you don’t mind getting your hands dirty,” I grin over at her.
She looks through the window and smirks over at me. “Oh, you wanted to see me get down and dirty on the first date huh?”
I shrug. “Why not?”
I get out of the car and walk around to open her door. As soon as we walk into Carla’s Place, the music and smells of delicious food make me smile. Points to my dad for picking a great restaurant. I tell the hostess my name, and we’re immediately shown to our seats, and the waitress arrives a minute later to ask what drinks we’d like.
“You ever been here before?” I ask as we look over our menus.
She shakes her head. “I just moved here three months ago, so I haven’t really been anywhere around here. I grew up two towns over and had an apartment with my brother, but decided it was time to get out on my own.”
“Older or younger?”
“Older, by four years.”
She gets a smile on her face just talking about him, and I can already tell how much he means to her.
“Wait a minute, this is the brother who sent you on that date?” I chuckle.
She rolls her eyes. “Which definitely turned out to be a prank. Could’ve strangled him. But yes, that idiot brother. We lived together since I was fourteen, you’d think I would be able to sniff out his pranks by now.”
My eyebrows crinkle in confusion. “Fourteen? Did something happen to your parents?”
“More like they felt we happened to them,” her voice loses its happiness. “Suffice it to say my childhood was less than ideal, so when my brother turned eighteen, he got an apartment, and we got the hell out of there.”
“And your parents never looked for you, or tried to get you to come back home?”
She scoffs. “Maybe when they realized they only had each other to abuse, who knows?”
A muscle in my jaw ticks from tightening at her words. My eyes go to the cut in her eyebrow wondering if a parent did that to her. I can’t even imagine growing up that way.
“What about you?” she asks, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Siblings? Your parents live around here?
“No siblings. My parents live about two hours away, been married thirty years and will always let you know it. I try to be the son of their dreams now since I gave them a really rough time when I was younger.”
“Oh do tell.” She arches a brow.
“I just always found a way to get into trouble. Ran with a bad crowd, I guess you could say. My parents tried to talk sense into me plenty of times, but I was dumb and thought I knew better.”
“But look at you now. You turned out... hmm, okay.”
“Just okay huh?” I laugh.
“Okay for now. We’ll see what I think of you later.”
The waitress comes back and takes our orders, leaving our drinks and some bread and butter on the table.
“So, where do you work?” I ask.
“I start in a few days as a first grade teacher at a school not too far from here.”
“A teacher?” I exclaim.
“What? I don’t look like a teacher to you?”
“Not like any teacher I ever had. If they were as pretty as you, I might have behaved better.”
She chuckles. “Well good for me, I don’t think first graders are too worried about how good a teacher looks.”
“Is that why you moved here?”
She nods.
“Well lucky me then,” I say.
“We’ll see.”
Our dinner arrives, and the waitress hands the both of us bibs to put on before placing a bucket, paper towels, and some crab crackers. I look over at Mariah and grin.
“Ready?”
“You don’t know what you’ve asked for.” She grins.
She grabs one of the crab legs and cracks it open, taking out a huge piece of meat and sucking it into her mouth with a wink. Yeah, I should not be eating and thinking about her sucking something else at the same time. We eat the crab legs in record time.
“How mad would you be if I started picking my teeth right now?” I laugh.
“You know what...” She slaps my arm from across the table. “Keep it up and I’ll have him come pick me up and drive me home.”
“As if I’d let him,” I scoff. “Please tell me this date is a thousand times better than that one.”
“Hmm, we’ll save our scores for the end of the date.”
She looks towards where the stage is, and I follow her gaze to watch a new band setting up.
; “I believe I was promised some dancing,” she says.
“Yes, you were,” I agree as I stand and extend my hand to her.
She places her hand in mine, and I can’t help but notice the electricity that goes through me at her touch. I put my other hand to her lower back to lead her to the dance floor and feel a shiver go through her.
The lead singer begins singing as we join the other couples. I place my hands on Mariah’s hips, swaying with her to the beat, her hands on my shoulders, the scent of her perfume wrapping around me, promising that I’ll be longing for even a trace of it for days. Then the band begins playing a slow song, and I hope that Mariah’s smile means she’s as grateful as me for the song choice, the words and rhythm of it giving us an excuse to get even closer. Her eyes stare into mine as she grabs my hands and pulls them forward. I gladly step closer and wrap my arms around her middle. I get lost in her gaze, in the feel of her in my arms, in the contentment of having her body pressed against mine. Only the applause for the band makes me realize the song has even ended. I blink as I look up and find some of the people clearing off of the dance floor as the band thanks everyone.
Still not at all ready for this date, this night to end, I ask, “Dessert?”
“Of course.” She grins. “Something, anything, chocolate.”
We sit back at our table and when the waitress comes over, we order a brownie and two slices of chocolate cake.
“So what made you want to get into teaching?” I ask as we wait.
“People usually say they had these great teachers who inspired them and had some profound effect on them. For me, it was the opposite. I had crappy teachers, all of them. Kind of just a product of where I grew up. Kids from my neighborhood were looked at as kind of...hopeless, I guess. I wanted to be a teacher since I was a teenager so that maybe I can be that teacher who inspires someone.” She shrugs. “I figure if I’m that teacher, it’s saving some kids from having teachers like the ones I had growing up.”
“Wow. That’s, that’s amazing. Really. I definitely think you can tell the difference between teachers who really love their job, and teachers who just do it. In the way they treat the kids, and just teach in general. They make it interesting instead of making it feel like some chore.”