“Thank you for telling me. I’ll take care of it. Now, unless you’re done with that project, I’m assuming you have something you could be doin’?”
It only took a few seconds for him to get the hint.
When he finally scurried away, I refilled my mug and perused the sweet rolls near the pot. Every morning one of the flunkies was tasked with picking up a box of baked goods from Sweetish Hill, the kick ass bakery down the block, and brewing a fresh pot of coffee. After a moment’s consideration, I selected a big hunk of coffee cake and a cinnamon roll. They weren’t quite as good as Molly’s, but she’s a prodigy. I couldn’t expect her to keep bringing us baked goods. Especially since she was so busy changing dirty diapers times two. Eating all this crap would mean I’d have to run extra to work off the calories, but honestly, I didn’t care. Life’s too short to eat oatmeal.
I actually got a blissful nine whole minutes of solitude before the rest of the delinquents came strolling in to work. I swear, sometimes I think Joe is trying to punish me for all the times I got him in trouble when we were kids. Granny always says there’s a special place in Hell for people who drive their parents crazy as teenagers. I guess she’s right, and I’m stuck smack dab in the middle of it.
I trudged back over to my workstation, hoping to extend my moment of sanity. There would be time enough to yell at them after I finished my coffee. As I took a seat, I saw my assistant, Nick, come out of the back office and approach the group.
“Did you two remember to clock out yesterday?” he asked, and their groans echoed throughout the workshop. I nearly joined them. Nick’s lectures were becoming as predictable as the sunrise, and I sighed as I prepared myself to endure his latest tirade. I set my coffee down and pretended to examine the bench I’d just built from reclaimed barn wood. Nick puffed up as he stood in front of the two new interns, and both boys rolled their eyes in unison.
“No,” the taller, uglier one replied, picking up a screw driver in a lame-assed attempt to put on a show that he was actually working.
“What about you?” Nick turned his disapproving gaze on the other kid, who looked like some pretty boy who was trying to fit in with the Sex Pistols.
“I forgot,” the guy replied, a small smirk appearing on his boy-band-wannabe face.
Nick folded his arms and shrugged. “Then I guess yesterday doesn’t count toward your hours.”
Both interns groaned and tried to object but Nick shook his head.
“Save it. I warned y’all about this.” He sounded so authoritative that I couldn’t help but smile. Remembering what a clueless wonder he’d been when he’d first strutted through the shop door, it was hard not to respect the progress he’d made. Though I thought Joe was nuts for hiring him at the time, Nick had proven not only a talented woodworker, but a capable assistant manager for Good Wood.
This was a stroke of luck, because I have enough trouble managing my own checkbook, let alone dealing with today’s snot-nosed youth. Hell, I’d had to hire a cleaning lady so that Mac Junior wasn’t living in squalor. I barely had the energy to keep up my laundry and dishes. I’d long given up on ever getting back to dart league.
Don’t get me wrong: I like people. But I’ve got no interested in being responsible for any of them. It’s why I stopped at one kid, for chrissake. That and my ex was about a loyal as Judas. I’m not the kind of guy people should follow anyhow. I guess you might say I’m more of a ring leader than a leader.
“Dude, you used to be fun,” the tall, spiky-blue-haired kid groused. I’d seen him try this before, with limited success. I think because Nick was close to his age, he thought he could push boundaries with him. Looking at the guy’s pocked skin, I decided he desperately needed to be here. Mentorship in woodworking was a must for him. It was likely he wouldn’t have anyone else touching his wood anytime soon.
Nick’s face turned redder than a stripper’s thigh highs, and my eyebrows hit the ceiling. Nick normally handles shit like that well, but in his defense, these two had been riding him since they started their internships.
“I know, right? Remember when we went to South by Southwest and he drank that bottle of Ten High and pissed in the window of that cop car?” The Jonas Brother-looking kid who said this (I can’t remember either of their names, mostly ‘cause they aren’t important to me) had a ring in his nose like a bull. I wanted to tell him he’d never be a teen model with a pierced septum, but Joe might pull me into the office if I did. My berating the interns had become a ‘thing’ a few months ago. I told a long-gone intern that he was a little bitch after he’d cut the tip of his finger off. In my defense, the kid started bawling like a two year old and running around like an idiot. Joe had pulled me aside, and though he’d laughed as he said it (Joe was as transparent as Scarlett Johansson’s panties in the opening shot of Lost in Translation), Joe said my remark was ‘going too far.’ I got his message loud and clear. He’s the boss...
Frowning at the pierced kid, my still semi-caffeinated brain imagined how easily I could grab him by the nose ring and lead him around the shop. It’d be fun, just like showing a prized heifer at a livestock auction. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not against body art. I have a few tattoos myself, and half of Austin is as pierced as a pin cushion. My own sister has a nose ring, but hers is a tiny little thing in one nostril. She doesn’t look like she belongs in the rodeo like this clown. Granted, that doesn’t stop me from giving her a hard time about it. I truly enjoyed the homicidal look on her face every time I’d tell her she’s about to be an old married woman with children and that she needed to ditch the hipster shit and start shopping at Talbots.
“That was then, and this is now. Now I’m a grown-ass adult, and I act accordingly. Unless you two have decided that working at McDonald’s is your lifelong ambition, you might want to get it together. I never would have vouched for you if I knew you were going to waste our time.”
Nick was letting them stress him out way too much. Joe could say what he liked about my ‘management style,’ but I would have sent these little peckerwoods out the door about three arguments ago. At this rate Nick could end up with an ulcer before he was thirty. I took a few more drinks of my coffee, hoping vainly that they would all just shut up.
“Nick, you’re turning into ‘The Man.’ You know, the one who’s keeping everybody down?” Blue Hair said, and Boy Band laughed. Nick turned an ugly shade of purple, and I exhaled deeply. I recognized that it was time for me to step in before he blew a gasket. Besides, I’d forgotten my earbuds, and I’d be damned if I was going listen to their shit all damn day.
“Hey! Sonic the Hedgehog! Justin Bieber’s Afterbirth! Do what you’re told or get the hell out,” I snapped. All three of their heads whipped in my direction. “And if I hear you’re bothering the folks upstairs again, I’ll tell Joe. You wouldn’t like Joe when he’s angry. Clear?”
I guess it was obvious that I wasn’t joking, because the interns scurried away to act busy in the back room of the shop. Nick smiled, and I heard deep laughter come from behind me. I turned to see that Joe had arrived just in time for the show.
“I see you’re finally taking an interest in the interns.” Joe drawled with that damn smirk that made me all the ladies (including my sister) fall onto their backs. At that moment, all it made me want to do was punch him repeatedly in the mouth.
“Dumb Ass and Tinkerbell need to learn how to use the damn time clock. They want to work for free, that’s fine by me. But bitchin’ at Nick because they won’t play by the rules ain’t gonna happen. Nobody yells at Nick but me…well and…you, I guess. Plus they’re bothering your tenants, and sneaking chicks in here at night to show off their handiwork.”
“I’ll talk to them.” Joe crouched down, scrutinizing my work briefly before meeting my eyes. Though he seemed a little haggard, he looked better than he had in a long time. “Look, man. I know you’ve had to carry a lot of extra shit lately…”
I held up my hand. “Don’t. I don’t want you to give th
is place a second thought. My sister and the twins need you a hell of a lot more than we do.”
Joe gave me a rueful grin before glancing over his shoulder at the interns on the far side of the shop.
“I know you never wanted to supervise people.” Joe stood and stuffed his hands in his pockets. The fact that he hadn’t removed his jacket told me he wasn’t staying long. I wasn’t surprised. He had a standing appointment with his shrink every other Thursday.
“Dude…I’ve been doing this as long as you have.” It sounded cocky, but he knew I was right. “I’ll keep them from burning the place down. Just go tell Nick the details and go the hell home.”
“Thanks, Mac.” Joe mumbled, and I felt like an asshole.
“Don’t thank me.” My exasperation might have seemed over the top, but he pissed me off with his constant politeness. He still didn’t have it through his thick skull that I didn’t feel obligated to do what I did for him—I was obligated. “We’re fucking family, Joe.”
Joe must have wanted to change the subject, because he jumped topics like a bullfrog. “So did you get a chance to read through the human resources packet?”
I flipped him the bird, and he smirked again. “Yes, I did, Boss. We made these little bastards sign an “At Will” work agreement. Tamryn may be off the normal law circuit, but she made that thing bulletproof.”
Joe chuckled. His sister, Tamryn, was a bonafide shark. She’d been one hell of an attorney, but once she hit the jackpot and married her loaded husband, she’d hung up her legal hat and became a stay-at-home mom. It didn’t stop her from helping Joe out pro bono whenever something came up for the shop. “They signed away their right to sue for verbal abuse. Subsection 8, paragraph 6. I made a photocopy of that part and hung it in your office.”
Joe’s eyes lit with amusement, but the expression quickly transformed to worry. It was his go-to look these days.
“Still, we want to make sure they don’t have grounds—” he mumbled, but I interrupted him with a rude noise.
“Fuck them. They want to learn? We’ll teach them. They want me to wipe their ass? They can hit the bricks.”
“You don’t think that’s a little harsh?” Joe sighed, glancing at his phone. I wondered if he was checking the time or if Molly was buzzing him. Either way, I knew he was on his way out the door.
“The world is harsh, brother. We just live in it.” It came out more brusquely than I intended, and he looked at me carefully for a second. I turned away, not wanting him prying into what was making me so moody. I’d managed to keep my drama under wraps, and Joe couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it. Besides, even if I wanted to have a heart-to-heart, he didn’t have the kind of time it would take to discuss my issues.
“Right,” Joe said, taking the hint. He headed off towards the office Nick had disappeared into.
I mentally kicked myself for the unintended dig about what kind of world we live in.
Way to go Mac. Like Joe needs to be reminded of that.
“THERE SHE IS!” Mom gushed, hurrying toward me at baggage claim. In her lavender pantsuit and with her perfectly coiffed hair, she looked like an aging Miss America. She pulled me into a showy hug, and it was hard to miss her new diamond anniversary band sparkling on her finger. “You look so thin! As much as I hate to admit it, Texas agrees with you.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I replied, knowing this was the ultimate compliment from her. I shifted my carry-on from one arm to the other as she inspected me. I was relieved when my stepfather appeared next to her, smiling his overly white smile. Side by side, they looked like AARP Barbie and Ken.
“Hey, Kiddo,” Bart said to me. His dimpled grin and sculpted hair made him look like a greying anchorman.
“Bartholomew.” I nodded at him. Bart had been with my mom since I was a senior in high school. Though they hadn’t married until the summer after my sophomore year in college, he’d been a stable fixture in my life for many years. He’d come along after the worst of times, and I had nothing bad to say about the guy, other than that he had a tendency to overindulge my mother and her mercurial whims.
“Let me get your suitcase,” he offered, taking my rolling bag away from me.
“Thanks,” I said, and he winked in response. We knew each other pretty well, Bart and I. He was the first boyfriend of Mom’s after Dad vanished whom I actually liked, so I was glad he’d stuck it out with her. Bart was there when I graduated high school, when Mom blew up at me for refusing to apply to a college in Denver, and when I announced I was moving to Michigan to take my first teaching job. He’d also been there through Mom’s early retirement from teaching to go into real estate, and when that proved to be “too stressful,” he supported her third “reimagining” of herself as a yoga/Pilates instructor.
Mom had originally quit teaching when I was in fourth grade. Dad had just been promoted after landing some monster accounts, and my parents decided they no longer needed her modest teaching salary. She kept plenty busy, volunteering for various organizations and “keeping house.” She’d already been hunting for a teaching job when my dad disappeared, and knowing what I know now about their financial situation, that made sense. When she finally found one, it was in another school district, but that was for the best since we couldn’t afford to live in our old neighborhood anyway.
“Did you get the birthday gift I sent?” Mom asked, pulling me back to the present.
“I just got it the day before yesterday.” I said, holding up my gold charm bracelet so she could see that I was wearing it. “I love it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I booked us a spa day tomorrow. It’s been way too long since I’ve had a chance to spoil my baby.” She pulled down her sun-visor to admire herself in the mirror. “We’ll get our hair done, too. My gray is showing.”
“I don’t see a single gray, Candice.” Bart said, winning himself a dazzling smile from my mother. Seeing their matching Colgate smiles, I sucked in a breath.
“Crap! I think I forgot to pack my toothbrush.” I slapped myself on the forehead. I always forgot something critical when I traveled, and since I’d seen Mac’s pull up outside the shop when I was packing the car for the airport, I hadn’t gone back in to do my usual last minute double check. He’d waved to me as he parked the truck, his eyes scanning my suitcase and carry-on. I waved back, but when he hopped out and started in the direction of my car, I’d nearly backed into a garbage truck in my rush to get away. The truck blared its horn just in time, and I’d survived to make an ass out of myself another day. I couldn’t even look at Mac, figuring he had a good laugh at one more Kelly Palmer near-death experience. I wasn’t sure what it was about Mac Hildebrandt, but I had a feeling if I ever died in some freak accident, it was going to be because he was hanging around nearby.
“We still have the caddy if you need to run out for anything.” Bart offered. “The keys are hanging in the garage. Feel free to use it while you’re here.”
When we finally entered their palatial home, I was exhausted from listening to my mother name drop a bunch of local celebrities who frequented her new studio. Desperate to escape her blathering, I tried to remember where the guest room was. She and Bart had bought this house when I’d moved to Detroit, and instead of downsizing like most normal empty nesters did, they actually acquired a place with an additional two thousand square feet. I’d only been back to visit three times since they’d had the place. Since my mother remodeled and redecorated constantly, it was always a guessing game where I’d sleep and what the place would look like.
“Down the hall, last door on the right.” Bart whispered to me, and I gave him a sly grin for reading my mind.
“We’re having dinner by the pool in an hour,” my mother called after me, and I waved in acknowledgment.
When I finally got to my room, I closed the door behind me and was tempted to lock it. It was a room I’d stayed in before, but she had made another pass at the decor. This time, it was done in my favorite shade of deep r
ed, and the materials and accents had a distinctly Moroccan feel. I assumed this was an extension of Mom’s “yoga period,” but it was lovely, and I collapsed on the bed with a heavy sigh.
The netting over the bed had an exotic, sexy feel and when my mind inevitably wandered to Mac, I jumped off the bed like it was on fire. I hurried into the adjoining bathroom to unpack my stuff and saw that my mother had fully stocked it with toiletries. I glanced in the mirror and wondered what I should get done to my hair at the salon. Realizing it was summer and no one would be around to appreciate anything I did to glam myself up took most of the fun out of the idea of a makeover.
I wandered back into the bedroom again and picked up my phone from its spot beside my purse. Before I even realized I was doing it, I searched Mac’s name on Facebook, and went to his page. I did this once in a while, and though he almost never posted, there were two new entries.
The newest entry was a selfie of him with Mac Junior at M.J.’s school graduation the week before. Junior looked pretty spiffy in his collared shirt and graduation cap. He and Mac both looked incredibly serious in the picture, and Mac’s comment on the photo was “Me and The Little Man. He’s not so little anymore—haha!”
My eyes stung, but I smiled just the same as I clicked on the picture of the two of them for a better look. My friend, Jane, had quietly kept me in the loop on M.J.’s progress, and she’d said that he’d finished the school year strong. My talk with Mac seemed to have helped Junior, so even though it was the ultimate demise for Mac and me, it was still totally worth doing. If given the chance, I’d do it all over again.
The other new post was an album of pictures of him, Joe, and Mason at a best shot golf outing that was dated two weekends before the graduation pic. The three of them were all goofing around in typical fashion, and Mac seemed to be all smiles. Seeing him so happy made me happy, and I scrolled through a few older pictures, just to torture myself. I was surprised to see one of us together at the 5K way back when and figured he’d just forgotten to take it down. Feeling a little snuffly, I logged out and took a cool shower.
Wood U (Carved Hearts #4) Page 17