Can't Let You Go: A Wheeler Brothers Novel

by Allie Everhart

  My dad would never stand for that. He's a freaking drill sergeant when it comes to his work. When he was teaching us how to do construction we had to do shit over and over until we got it right. And we couldn't take shortcuts. He doesn't do a half-ass job just to save time or money, like some construction companies do. He does the job well and he does it right the first time, and he expects us, and our workers, to do the same, which is why those guys had to be fired. Jake's right. They're bad for our business.

  "So where were you?" Jake asks.

  I open a kitchen drawer and find the screw for the outlet cover. It was right there and the idiot couldn't even finish the job.

  "I went to Jen's school and dropped off a binder she left at my apartment." I grab a screwdriver and attach the missing screw.

  "Did you see her?"

  "Yeah. I have her class schedule so I knew what time she'd be there."

  "Had to get your Jen fix, huh?" He chuckles to himself.

  "She needed the binder." I set the screwdriver down and turn to Jake. "She needed it for some group she has tonight."

  He cocks his head. "You ever think she purposely leaves shit behind so she has an excuse to see you?"

  "She didn't leave it there on purpose. She just forgot."

  He rolls his eyes. "She does it on purpose, Bryce. Everyone knows this. Even you. So stop pretending you don't."

  "If she wanted to see me so bad, then she wouldn't be going out with some other guy tonight."

  "Who's she going out with? Is she getting back with Zach?"

  Zach. I tense up just hearing that asshole's name. Zach is Jen's ex-boyfriend. The guy she dated for a month.

  "No. This is a new guy. Chad." I try to sound cool about it, but Jake knows I'm not. He knows I love Jen. My whole damn family does, which is why they keep pushing me to be with her. I've told them I won't date her because I don't want to risk ruining our friendship, which is part of the reason. I won't tell them the other part. If I did, they'd tell me I shouldn't be trying to make decisions for Jen. That I should date her and let her decide if she wants to stay here after she graduates. But I can't do it because I know what she'd decide and I can't let her ruin her life for me. If Jen stays here, her mom will keep manipulating her and taking her money. She'll never have a good life. Her mom will make sure of it.

  "You're running out of time," Jake says, crossing his arms over his chest. "She graduates in May, and after that, she'll probably move out of Chicago, unless she has a reason to stay."

  "I'm not talking about this." I walk over to the hallway and pick up the trash the workers left; some empty pop bottles and bags of chips. "And I'm sick of hearing about it. I already know what you think so you don't have to keep telling me. That goes for Nash and Austin too." I toss the trash in the garbage bag next to the sink.

  "If we see you making a mistake, we're going to tell you."

  "Yeah, well, you've already told me about a million times, so you can shut up now." I assess the half-finished kitchen. "What are we going to do about this?"

  "It's too late to hire another crew. Didn't you say the homeowners are back on Monday?"

  "Yeah. So it needs to be done and cleaned up by Sunday night."

  "Shit, that's not much time." Jake gets his phone out. "I'll text Nash and Austin and see when they could get over here." He sends the texts, then says, "I need to go check on my own project, then I'll go home and change. I could be back here around six."

  "You sure? I thought you and Ivy had plans."

  "We were just going to a movie. We can go some other night. But I'm bringing her with." He smiles. "Can't go a whole night without seeing my girl."

  Jake is so in love with her. For years he slept around, vowing to never be in a relationship, and then he meets Ivy and suddenly he's a new man.

  "Besides," he says, "if I tell Ivy we need to get this job done asap, you know she'll want to pitch in and help."

  "It'd be awesome if she could do the trim work. Ron was supposed to do it, but he was so freaking slow he didn't get around to it."

  "I'm texting her now," Jake says.

  Ivy's a carpenter. She worked for Jake on one of his projects, which is how they met.

  He laughs. "When can I start? That's what she texted back. She's actually excited about it. Fuck, I love that girl." He texts her back. "Nash just texted me. Said he could be here at five-thirty. Callie has class tonight."

  Callie is Nash's fiancé. She's good friends with Jen. So is Ivy. So in addition to my dad and brothers nagging me to date Jen, I've got Ivy and Callie doing it too. It's freaking annoying. They think they're helping but they're not. They're just making it harder.

  "Did you hear from Austin?"

  Jake doesn't answer, his eyes on his phone as he sends another text, probably to Ivy.

  My phone rings and I see it's Austin. "Hey, what's up?"

  "Got Jake's text. Sorry, but the band's practicing tonight. We're playing on Saturday so we really need to practice. But I could be there tomorrow night and Friday and a few hours this weekend."

  "Sounds good. I'll talk to you later." I end the call.

  "Was that Austin?" Jake asks.

  "Yeah. He can't make it. He has practice tonight."

  Austin's in a band. They play at bars in the area and at local music events. They're getting to be really popular.

  "I'm going to head out." Jake takes his keys from the counter. "You staying here?"

  "Yeah. I'm going to start ripping out the tile."

  "Need any more supplies? I could stop and get them."

  "No, we're good. And hey, don't worry about dinner. I'll order some pizzas."

  Jake leaves and I get to work. I feel bad making my brothers pitch in to help me finish the job. It's my fault my crew didn't work out. I should've stayed here and kept an eye on them. But my brothers won't bitch about having to help. We've all made mistakes, and whenever one of us screws up, the rest of us do whatever we need to do to fix it.

  Unfortunately, that also holds true for our personal lives. My brothers think I've screwed things up with Jen and now they keep trying to fix it by finding ways to get us together. But their matchmaking efforts won't work. Jen and I are not a couple and never will be. She needs to leave. Get far away from here. Far away from Rita, Jen's lying, stealing, conniving bitch of a mother.

  Jen deserves a new life. A better life. And as much as I love her, I can't give her that.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jen

  After I left Bryce in the parking lot, I went home and was going to call Chad and tell him we could have dinner, but then changed my mind. I'm not going to go out with him just because I'm angry at Bryce. If I go out with someone, it needs to be because I want to.

  The problem is, I don't want to go out with anyone but Bryce. He's always in my head, even when I'm on a date with someone else. For years, I've tried to get over Bryce and find someone new. Someone who actually wants me as more than a friend. I've found plenty of guys who want me that way, and I've gone out with them, but it just doesn't feel right. There's always something missing. I just can't seem to connect with other guys the way I connect with Bryce.

  My last boyfriend, Zach, was tall and athletic and a really sweet guy who brought me flowers and took me to nice places for dinner and was polite and smart. He should've been the perfect boyfriend, and I'm sure he will be for someone else. Just not me.

  Like all the guys before him, I couldn't connect with Zach. Something was off between us. The night I went to break up with him, he broke up with me before I could tell him it was over. He said it always seemed like my mind was on someone else and that he didn't want to be my second choice. I felt bad when he said it. I didn't want him to feel that way and I didn't even know what I did to make him think that. I only mentioned Bryce a few times to Zach and I made it clear to him that Bryce was just a friend. But I guess I'm not good at hiding my feelings.

  It's now six-fifteen and I'm pulling up to my mom's house. I didn't want to c
ome here, but I haven't seen her for a week and I need to check on her.

  "Mom, are you here?" I yell as I go in the house. She always has the TV blaring and can't hear me.

  I find her in the living room, a cloud of smoke swirling around her head. That's another reason I couldn't wait to move out of this house. The cigarette smoke makes me feel like I can't breathe.

  "Well, well, look who's here." She drops the footrest on her recliner and taps her cigarette on the ashtray. "Did you bring dinner?"

  She doesn't even bother to say hello. Just asks if I brought her something. That's my mom. Always taking, never giving.

  "I just stopped by to say hi." I take a seat on the green velour couch that one of my mom's old boyfriends gave her. It's hideous but my mom loved it when she saw it in the furniture store. She flirted with the sales guy and ended up bringing him home that night and every night that week. The following Saturday, the hideous sofa was delivered to our house, free of charge. And the next day, my mom dumped the guy.

  Most of the furniture in our house was obtained that way. The appliances too. In fact, just last month, my mom decided she wanted a new washer and dryer so she slept with Stan, this fat, bald guy who owns an appliance store. After they dated a few weeks, Stan gave her a top-of-the-line washer and dryer, along with a new fridge. Once they were installed and she'd made sure they worked, she told Stan it was over.

  "I haven't had dinner yet," my mom says, tapping her cigarette on the ashtray. "Why don't you order us some food? Call up that Italian place down the street. I like their lasagna."

  "Mom, I came to see you. I'm not here to take your dinner order." I grab the remote from the table next to her recliner and lower the volume on the TV. "You need to turn down the volume. You're going to go deaf."

  "It's to drown out the neighbors." She puffs on her cigarette. "The Williams got a new yipper dog. The damn thing yips and barks at every little thing. Drives me up a wall. I swear Lydia got the thing just to piss me off."

  My mom always thinks people are out to get her. Geez, I wonder why? Maybe because she does that herself?

  I sigh, fighting an eye roll. "And why would Lydia do that?"

  "Because I'm always talking to Howard. She thinks I'm trying to steal her husband." She laughs.

  "Mom." I set my eyes on her. "You didn't do anything, did you?"

  "No, but I could if I wanted to. That man is desperate for a lady's company." She waves her cigarette around. "You know Lydia. That woman's as frigid as a Chicago day in January. He probably hasn't had it in years. If he had something to offer me, I'd give him some relief, but what's a cop gonna give me?" She stops to think, gazing at the TV. "You know, I do have a parking ticket I don't want to pay."

  I jump up to standing. "Mom, no. You're not bribing a freaking cop. Are you crazy? You could go to prison for that."

  She takes another puff of her cigarette. "You still don't understand how this works, do you? And here you're the one in college." She points to herself. "It should be me. I'm the smart one here."

  I collapse back on the couch, working hard to stifle my anger. "Yeah, I know how it works. You have sex with him, then blackmail him into doing what you want. But it's not going to work. You're going to get in trouble."

  "Not if I'm smart about it. The trick with blackmail is you gotta get evidence."

  "Mom, please do not do this just to get out of paying a parking ticket. I'll pay it myself. Where is it?"

  She waves behind her. "Kitchen counter."

  As I get up, I notice a smile creeping up her face. Shit. Did she just play me? Was that whole scene just meant to get me to pay her parking ticket? Either way, I'm still going to pay it. I can't call her bluff and risk her actually trying to bribe the cop. And I know she'll never pay the ticket herself. She'll say she doesn't have the money.

  My mom is perfectly capable of getting a job, but she doesn't want one. Why work when you can get things for free? she always says. By 'free' she means she cons people into giving her things. This house was basically free. She got it when she faked a fall at a department store and sued them for her fake back injury. They settled out of court, but it was enough money to buy this house, leaving her mortgage free. It's a small but decent house and most everything in it is new, thanks to my mom's many boyfriends. One of them even gave her a car, which is only a couple years old. It's way better than mine and yet she won't even let me borrow it.

  I pick up the parking ticket, which was sitting next to her phone. My mom was probably planning to call me about it in the next day or so to see if I'd pay it.

  "Mom." I bring the ticket over to her. "This ticket is for $210. Where exactly did you park?"

  "Downtown in a loading zone."

  "I don't have the money for this. It's too much." I drop the ticket in her lap. "You'll just have to pay it yourself."

  She smiles. "I guess Harold and I will be having a little fun this weekend."

  She could be lying, but there's a good chance she'll do it and end up in jail.

  "Fine." I snatch the ticket from her lap. "But I'm not buying you dinner. I have to go. I have to meet with my group soon." I look at her sitting there, with her long, bleached-blond hair and fake tan. She has money for the hair salon and tanning booth, but not a parking ticket. I'm so angry at her right now, but I take a breath and calmly ask, "Do you want to talk at all before I go? I have a busy week. I probably won't be able to come over again until sometime next week, so if you want to talk, now's your chance."

  She crosses her skinny legs and lights another cigarette. "How's that boyfriend of yours?"

  "I don't have a boyfriend. I broke up with Zach over a month ago."

  "Your other boyfriend." She coughs. "The Wheeler kid."

  "Bryce isn't my boyfriend. You know we're just friends."

  I step back to get some distance from the smoke. My chest is already feeling tight and I've only been here a few minutes.

  "Because you haven't had sex with him. If you did, that boy would stop being just a friend."

  She tells me this every time this topic comes up. For her, sex is the answer to everything. A way to get what you want. But to me, sex is about love, and being with someone you care about, not someone you're trying to get a free washer and dryer from.

  "I'm not having sex with him," I tell my mom. "I don't want him dating me just for that."

  "You're such a prude." She picks up her remote and raises the volume on the TV again. "It's hard to believe you're my daughter."

  "Maybe I'm more like my dad," I shoot back. She's never told me anything about my dad because she has no clue who he is. She slept with three guys the week I was conceived. "Was my dad a minister?"

  She breaks out in a laugh. "A minister. Never had me one of those. Maybe I should try one."

  "I have to go." I zip up my coat, which I never took off.

  "Give Mama a kiss." She holds her arms out.

  I hug her and kiss her cheek. "Bye, Mom."

  She hugs me back. "Love you, girl."

  "Love you too."

  And that's why I keep checking on her. And keep paying her bills. Because sometimes, my mom can be nice. She hugs me and tells me she loves me and it makes me want to take care of her and put up with all her crap.

  "Make sure to eat something," I tell her.

  She points to the TV. "Look at that video. The cat with the baby. Cute, isn't it? I like them videos with the cats."

  I glance at the TV, then back at her. She's so skinny. I think the cigarettes take her appetite away.

  "Mom. You need to eat dinner."

  She waves me on. "I will later. Get back to school." As I'm leaving, I hear her yell, "Give that boy a BJ. That'll get his attention." And then she laughs.

  I just shake my head and go out to my car. On the way back to campus, I stop at a fast food place and get the cheapest meal they have because now I have no money, or I won't after paying this stupid parking ticket.

  At seven-thirty I meet with my group and
, as expected, they all want me to write the paper, knowing I'm the only one staying here for spring break. It's fine. If we're having a snowstorm next week, I might as well stay inside and work on the paper.

  After our meeting, Chad walks me to my car, which I appreciate because it's dark out and I had to park way down the street.

  "So how about tomorrow?" he asks when we reach my car. He's smiling, and this time I make sure to smile back.

  "What about tomorrow?"

  "Dinner. What do you say?"

  I try to think of a nice way to turn him down. But why am I turning him down? I'm 22 and single. I should be going out on dates all the time, not waiting around for some guy who doesn't want me. Who cares if I don't feel any sparks with Chad? I can still have dinner with him.

  "Sure," I say. "Tomorrow works. What time?"

  Now he's really smiling. I'm sure he assumed I'd turn him down. "Will seven work? I can come pick you up."

  "I have to work until seven. How about seven-thirty?"

  "Sounds good. See you then."

  I go back to my apartment, exhausted from the long day, which started with a six a.m. shift at the restaurant. I take a hot shower and throw on my pajamas. Just as I get situated on the couch and turn the TV on, my phone rings. It's after ten and the only person who ever calls this late is Bryce. We call each other anytime, day or night.

  "Hey." He sounds tired.

  "Hey. What's up?" I lower the volume on the TV.

  "Just got off work."

  "Why were you working so late?"

  "My crew fucked up and I had to fire them."

  "All of them?"

  "Yeah. When I asked Jake to check on them earlier, he found them drinking and smoking weed. So I fired them, but now I've gotta finish the job myself."

  "Can't your brothers help?"

  "Yeah, but only at night. They have to be at their own job sites during the day. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'll get it done. That's not why I called." He pauses. "I called because...I need to apologize. I shouldn't have acted the way I did when you told me about that guy. I shouldn't have even asked about him. You were right. It's none of my business. So...I'm sorry."