by Kathryn Shay
Next, they pried the lathe away from the studs and removed the old nails.
They removed the aluminum trim as well and re-nailed the old sill to reinforce it, the sound of the pounding increasing the tension in the room.
When the noise abated, Kinley said, “If you’d cook them lunch, it’ll be my treat.”
Liam said, “Sure, why not? But we’ll put it on the house.”
Next, they placed contact tape on the window glass to prevent breakage during removal, much like firefighters do with car rescues.
When lunch arrived, Kinley said to the head contractor, “I’m going back to work. Call me when you have an hour left in the job and I’ll come back.”
Liam said, “I’ll be around all afternoon.”
Dylan and Pat had left a while ago.
“Thanks, I appreciate you being here.”
Kinley felt…odd about getting Liam’s help. He wondered why the guy offered. Then decided being generous was in Liam’s nature.
Work was quiet, and he missed having Jamie out at the alcove desk. He picked up the phone to call her, then thought better of the action. Best to stay away as much as he could.
When he returned to the pub late in the day, the windows were about in. He stared at them from the outside. Bailey’s Irish Pub still hung down over the door, taking up half of each of the window’s length. He hadn’t had the sign removed. He’d threatened to rename the bar, but now he felt like a bully for that. Kinley admitted he had the hardest time distancing his half-sister. She seemed to get to him. He knew why.
She’d loved Moira. So had he. They both mourned her loss.
As he went inside, he felt disturbed, the emotions swirling inside him. Hell, what was happening to him?
Late in the day on Tuesday at work, Jamie retrieved her purse from the drawer to leave for the night when Kinley appeared at the doorway. He frowned at her. His brows rose. “You changed. Going somewhere?”
She glanced down at her jeans, pink blouse and sweater to match. “Um, yeah.” When she looked back up, she bit her lip. “I didn’t think. Should I have not changed here? I try to dress right whenever I come.”
Jamie had bought three outfits for this job. She mixed and matched them whenever she worked. One was a dress she could wear out at night if she ever had a date.
“It’s fine to change here. Though you might want to keep your things in the locker room near the workout area on the first floor for convenience.”
“I forgot the building had one of those. I’ll remember next time.”
He came fully into the corridor. His blue eyes were crystalline today, highlighted by his light blue shirt. Reaching out, he squeezed her arm. “I wasn’t chastising you, Jamie. I was trying to make things easier for you.”
She nodded.
Without removing his hand, he asked, “You aren’t going home to Ben?”
“No. Brie O’Neil is picking him up from school and he’s heading out to Rockaway to play with Isabella and have dinner there.”
Now, he did draw back. “I see.” His gaze narrowed on her. “Do you have a date?”
“No. I’m going to Guardian.”
“Bailey’s Guardian?”
“Yes, Tuesdays are career day. They bring people in to address the jobs that a particular group of kids is interested in.”
“Ah.”
She rolled her eyes. “These kids don’t aspire to be CEO’s, Kinley. They want simpler jobs, like waitressing and hostess work in a restaurant.”
“I’m suppose that’s true.”
She checked her watch. “I should get going.”
“I have an idea. Let me change too, and I’ll go with you.”
“You want to?”
“Yes. I’m not interloping. Bailey asked me to volunteer there. I should take a look.”
Pure admiration filled her face. “What a wonderful idea.”
“I haven’t decided about that yet.”
“Why?”
“It’s hard to see those kids and remember who I used to be.”
This time she reached out. And took his hand. “I’m sorry. But it would be so helpful for them to hear from a man who’s been in their position. And made it out.”
“We’ll see. Give me five minutes.” He squeezed her hand then let go.
She watched him as he walked away, her heart longing for more. But she’d take what she could get of him, like she did with everything else in her life.
Guardian House looked different in daylight. The sun sparkled off the stone peaks. The structure seemed invincible…and safe. For a brief moment, he wished he and Moira had had a place like this to set their young lives on a better path.
“Kinley?”
He transferred his gaze to Jamie, who sat next to him in his car. Outside, a cold end-of-March wind blew. “Um, yes?”
“What were you just thinking?”
“Nothing.”
Once again, she reached out and gasped his hand. Twice in one day. He got to touch her twice! “Tell me, please.”
“I flashed back to me and Moira, wishing we’d had a respite like this.”
“So even being outside makes you remember things you don’t like.”
“Well, things that…make me feel bad.”
“That make you hurt. You can admit you hurt about what’s happened to you.” She waited then said, “Even missing out with the O’Neils as your family.”
He laid his head back on the leather. “I used to daydream about them. About being their brother.”
“Oh, Kinley.” As much as she could, she moved over in his snazzy black jaguar and when he turned toward her, looped her arms around his neck. Met her forehead with his. “I’ll go in. You head home or back to work. I’ll Uber to my house or take a bus when I’m done here.”
He wondered when he got to be such a coward. “I’m not a coward. I’m going in.”
A long pause. “Then pull up to the gate.”
He did.
She leaned over him. “Hi, ID pass 56129. Jamie Ralston.”
“And you sir?”
“Kinley Moran.”
He checked a clipboard. “Okay. Both your names are on here to be let in.”
“Bailey,” he said as they drove through the gates. “always the optimist.”
They walked up the stone steps to the heavy wooden door. Another intercom. They were buzzed in.
Bailey met them in the entryway. She was bright-eyed and grinning like a kid, looking like a kid in a denim skirt and simple light sweater. She hugged Jamie. “Thanks so much for doing this.” She turned to Kinley and shocked him by throwing her arms around him, too. “Hi, bro.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t press your luck.”
She didn’t stop smiling. “Come on Jamie, let’s go to the classroom. I got all the stuff set up that you asked for.”
The room was medium-size, with long rectangular tables for kids to sit at and another up front for displays. Large windows let in the afternoon sun. A third small round table that could be found in a restaurant sat near the others.
“How many kids signed up?” Jamie asked as she unpacked one of the bags she’d brought in.
“Ten—five boys, five girls.”
“Wow. I hope I’m valuable enough to warrant that kind of interest.”
Bailey clasped her arm. “You are, honey. You’re almost done with your teaching degree so you’ve got those skills. And I’ve seen you train new waitresses for the last few years.”
“I guess.”
Bailey turned to him. “Kinley, did you plan on staying for the presentation?”
“Um, no. I’d make Jamie nervous.”
“Our policy is that a counselor has to sit in the room with a presenter.”
“That’s okay.”
“Would you like me to get someone to show you around?”
“I think I can figure the place out. If that’s all right with you.”
“Of course, I trust you.”
Sometim
es he wondered if she was real.
Jamie stood up front as the kids came in and took seats. They seemed alert and…upbeat. She greeted them and was surprised they greeted her back. “So, who wants to learn how to be a waitress or waiter?”
Nine hands went up.
She zeroed in on the girl who didn’t raise hers. Her hair was clipped back, and her hard face sported a prominent nose ring. Jamie asked, “What’s your name?”
“Sherry.”
“Why didn’t you raise your hand, Sherry?”
“Like, isn’t settin’ a table common sense?”
“Much of it is. But there are skills to learn in order to work in a restaurant.”
“Like what?”
“Want to be my guinea pig?”
Challenge made her eyes spark. “I guess.”
“Come on up and set the table.”
Sherry slid out of her desk and ambled to the table. She put out plates, napkins, silverware.
Jamie pretended to inspect her handiwork. “Well, that might cut it. But in reality, there are correct places for certain utensils and glassware.”
“Really?”
“Un-huh. I never learned it when I was your age, either.”
“Will we need that kind of fancy stuff? None of us is gonna work at the Ritz.”
Kinley lived at the Ritz.
“You should expect that you will, because if you don’t aim high, you’ll never get there.”
“Fine. Show me.”
“Put the fork on the right. If you have two forks where you work, the smaller one is for salad. The rule is you place the utensils in the order they’d be used.” She waited. “Now, the knife and spoon go on the left. Put the knife with the blade facing in.”
“Why?” one of the other kids asked.
“The custom originated in the Middle Ages. Kings often entertained guests that he didn’t like. To let the visitor know he was out of royal favor, he’d have the blade placed out.”
“Cool,” the boy responded.
“Now, for the glassware. Anything you drink goes over the spoon, so those would be the water glass and cups.”
The girl’s brow was furrowed as she concentrated.
Jamie said, “The small bread plate goes over the fork. Then the salad goes there when you serve it.”
Sherry looked up. “You were right. This is good to know.”
Jamie couldn’t help the delight that welled inside her. “Yeah, it is.”
Standing in the hall, out of sight, Kinley had eavesdropped in the classroom for the first part of the lesson, and had to tear his gaze away from Jamie in order to leave. He laughed. He hadn’t known the origin of the knife placement.
First, he walked by an office. Inside were a desk, chairs and a table. On the walls were sayings: Kids are our most precious natural resource. No one will love you if you don’t love yourselves. Open your mind to new things.
He watched as a counselor and a young boy stood and left the space. The man stopped, but the kid kept going. “Hi, I’m John Battaglia.”
“The famous heart surgeon.”
John smiled. “You?”
“Kinley Moran.”
“Ah, the famous investment broker.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Mark and I are going to grab a bite in the kitchen, but I understand you and I have something in common.”
“We do?”
“I was in a gang, too.”
His eyes narrowed. “Bailey told you about me?”
“She’s very protective of her family.”
“I’m not—”
“Hope I see you again.” John followed in the boy’s path.
Kinley didn’t know whether to be pleased or angry about Bailey discussing him with others. He dismissed whatever he was feeling and went to the doorway of the big room off to the right. Kids of all ages at desks. Probably finishing homework. He remembered wanting a place to study and write his essays but his mother didn’t have the space. That made him stop caring about school work.
Next, he came upon a set of stairs. Should he go up? From behind him, someone said, “You can’t go up there and invade their privacy. Visitors at Guardian have to be invited onto the floors.”
Kinley turned. It was the same guy he’d met on his aborted visit here. He held out his hand. “Joe Natale.”
“Kinley Moran.”
“I remember. Glad you came back.”
“Do you trust the kids upstairs with no supervision?”
“There’s supervision. A trained counselor works at a desk on front of every floor and there’s a small office on each with another counselor in there.”
“That’s good.”
“This isn’t our first rodeo.”
Kinley said, “I know. I meant no offense.”
“If you want to see more clients, there’s probably some in the great room.”
“Um…”
“Go on, Kinley.” He pointed off to the side. “Take a look.”
He walked over to the nearest doorway and could see the kids interact. Two boys sat on a couch. One was incredibly young. Of course, Kinley had been eleven when he’d been recruited into a gang. He’d wanted family.
A girl next to the guys concentrated on the screen of a cell phone.
Two more girls played a video game at a TV in the corner, the familiar sounds filling the air.
Kinley’s vision dimmed and he stumbled out of the room, into the hallway. The sights and sounds threw him back to the den of the Bad Boys…
He sat on a couch with a boy named Jacko, who’d gotten him into the Bad Boys. Pings went off as Kinley expertly maneuvered his hand-held remote. Both of their gazes were glued to the TV.
“I got one!”
“I got one, too.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Fuck.”
They played to the end when Jacko trounced him. His friend threw down the remote and stood. “Come on, boy, let’s go hunting.”
He knew what hunting was. “Can’t. I gotta get home. My old lady will string me up by the balls if I’m late.”
“Don’t you want to get laid first?”
“Love to. Next time.”
“Kinley…” Jacko grabbed him hard by the arm.
“Kinley…” He felt a tug on his arm. But it wasn’t Jacko. “You okay?” Joe Natale stood before him. “Did you have a flashback?”
“H-how’d you know?”
“Alotta former gang members work here.”
“They do this, too?”
“I’m afraid so. But it goes away.” He grasped Kinley’s other arm. “Want to go to my office and talk?”
“Look, Joe, thanks for the concern, but I need some air. Could you tell Jamie Ralston who’s teaching a class here, I’ll wait for her in the car?”
“Yeah, sure, want me to come outside with you? Shoot the shit some?”
“No, go help a kid. I’m fine.”
But he wasn’t, he thought as he found his way out the door. The flashback was so real, more than any other he’d had, and made his stomach cramp. For a few awful minutes, he’d actually thought he was thirteen and trapped in that world again.
Jamie shivered as she slid into the front seat of his car. Darkness had fallen and the temperature had dropped. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“Joe Natale said you were upset.”
He leaned his head back into the seat. “I was. But I don’t want to talk about why.”
“Please, tell me.”
Staring over at her for a long time, he finally said, “I shouldn’t. We can’t keep getting closer by sharing everything.”
“Just this once.”
“I—I had a flashback.”
“Damn.”
“Nothing bad happened in it, but I felt like I was still there, a poor teenager looking for family. For acceptance.”
She took his hand and linked their fingers. “I’m so sorry. Is that why you turned Bailey down about volunt
eering?”
“I didn’t have a concrete reason. I knew in my gut being there would remind me of my past. I know that’s selfish, but I was right.”
“I feel so bad that I brought you here.” She turned in her seat and managed to loop her arms around his neck again. Then she kissed him. A mild, comforting kiss that went on a long time.
When she pulled back, he held her to his chest. His hand threaded through her hair.
“Kinley?”
“What, sweetheart?”
“Let’s get a hotel room.”
“What?”
“I want to make love with you.”
His eyes darkened. “I don’t want a mercy fuck, Jamie.”
“It would never be that between us!”
“Then why now?”
“Your defenses are down by what happened in there, and mine are down, too, hearing about it.”
“No.”
“Only once. We can go back to being just friends or even acquaintances.”
“It’s like winning second place. Screwing for comfort isn’t what I want. And besides the O’Neils will be right in that room with us. They overshadow everything between us.”
She drew back. “If you honestly think that, then go ahead, take me home.”
“I already told you this. What are you thinking, Jamie?”
“That we could have a separate relationship apart from them.”
“No. We never can.”
“Why?”
“Because when push comes to shove, you’ll choose them over me. I’ll never let myself care about you so much that I’ll be in that position.”
What the fuck was this all about?
Nigel parked unseen in the shadows of the street, away from the house. What the hell was this place? There’d been nothing on Moran’s calendar. He’d seen them leave together, so he followed them here.
He clicked into his browser, entered the address on the phone. According to Maps, the house didn’t exist. But he saw with his own eyes that it did.
A guard outside approached the car that Moran had driven—another odd thing. The man waved them in.
Nigel watched the Jag pull up to the front. Both went inside. For a long time.
Finally, Moran stumbled out, then Jamie Ralston exited a while later.