by HK Carlton
‘Who’s that man, Mommy? Why do dogs lift their leg when they pee, Mommy? Why do I call you Mommy but my friend Bonnie calls one of her mommies ‘Mommy’ and the other one ‘Pam’?’
It seemed like yesterday.
“I’m okay,” Autumn replied. “I miss you, though.”
More tears sprang to her eyes. “I wish you could meet me.”
“Mom…we talked about this.” Another awkward silence stretched between them.
“How are classes, baby?”
“Good. I love lecture hall. Everyone else falls asleep, but I find it the most informative part of the week. I’ve learned so much about how things work here, and the teacher is an absolute angel.”
“That’s good.”
“I have this big assignment due in about a week, so I’m going to shut out all my new friends and funnel all of my energies into it.”
“There’s a good girl. Make your mama proud.”
“I will.”
“You always do.”
“Thanks, Mom. How’s the new house?”
“It’s too quiet.” Kaylah picked at a paper napkin.
“You’ll get used to it.”
“I know. I haven’t got a choice.”
“Have you met any people? Neighbors?”
Still spellbound by the little person flouncing about, Kaylah watched as she and the adult accompanying her entered the café through the glass door, making the bell ring.
“Why is that bell there?” the little girl asked.
The question made Kaylah chuckle.
“To let the servers know a new customer has entered,” the man with her answered.
“Well, that’s just silly. They don’t need a bell for that when they have eyes.”
Her handler hesitated, then he nodded his dark head at her logic.
Kaylah paused at the mere sight of him. Very handsome.
“Yes, I’m meeting people.” Kaylah turned her attention back to the conversation.
“Good. I’m glad. Meet any men-type people?”
“Autumn…” she cautioned, which prompted a giggle.
Kaylah’s attention strayed back to the new customers.
“What do you want to eat, Lindsay?” As she’d expected, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome’s voice was deep.
“I’m having trouble hearing you,” Autumn said. “You sound very far away. I’ll let you go for now.”
“Oh, no, don’t. You don’t have to do that. I can run outside.” Kaylah felt the familiar disappointment. Would this separation ever become any easier? Autumn’s calls were what kept her sane.
“I’ll call you later…to say goodnight. All right?”
“Okay. Talk to you then. I love you, Autumn.”
“I love you, too, Mama.”
Kaylah ended the call, but her attention was riveted on the other customers.
“What do you want, Lindsay?” The man prompted the girl again. Kaylah studied his back. He was solid, muscular and had incredibly broad shoulders.
“Umm, fries and a Coke.”
“Fries and milk,” he corrected.
“French fries and chocolate milk,” she countered.
“Deal. Go hop up at our table.”
The girl turned and eyed Kaylah.
She swung around and tugged his back pocket, directing Kaylah’s focus to the snug denim.
“Uncle Salem, there’s someone at our table.”
Salem?
“Then pick another,” he said while retrieving his wallet.
“No, that’s our table,” she pouted, scowling at Kaylah.
Kaylah made eye contact with the girl. With an exaggerated facial expression, she pointed at the table. “Is this your table?” she asked.
The child nodded but wrapped her arm around her uncle’s leg.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll move so you and your uncle can have your spot. Would you like that?”
With her lip still jutting, the girl simply stared at her.
“You don’t have to do that,” the distracted man said, after paying for their snacks. He shoved his billfold back into his jeans and turned fully in her direction.
Whoa!
He approached the table, walking with a bit of a limp.
“No, I don’t mind. I was leaving anyway,” she said, shuffling out from between the table and the banquet seat.
As she straightened to her full height, she gazed up him.
The little girl scooted onto the bench.
He was a good-looking man in a rugged sort of way. A sexy layer of stubble coated his strong chin as if he hadn’t shaved that morning. He assessed her with shrewd hazel eyes as he yanked a worn ball cap from his head. A thick swatch of dark hair tumbled over his forehead, which he was quick to slick down. Yet, in contrast, the sides and the back were shaved close. No doubt Autumn would call it a ‘righteous flow’.
“Please, don’t let us rush you,” he said, as he shrugged out of his plaid jacket. The cut of his black T-shirt fit snug to his sculpted biceps. “She needs to learn the world doesn’t stop for her. Her mom spoils her rotten as it is.”
“Chocolate milk?” Kaylah called him out on how he’d caved to Lindsay’s wishes.
Passing his hand over the back of his neck, he looked down at the floor then grinned. He had nice teeth and full lips. “Yeah, well, I’m her uncle. I’m allowed. Besides, we negotiated, right, Lindsay? That’s different.”
“I’d rather have the pop,” she replied, dragging a napkin over the tabletop and now standing on the seat.
“Aw, is that how it works?” Kaylah responded.
“Hey, why don’t you join us? I see you’ve still got a full cup there.”
“No, I’ve got to go, but thank you. Nice meeting you…both.”
To her surprise, he stuck out his hand. She hesitated, staring at it stupidly before tucking hers in his. His palm was warm, his grip strong. A jolt of sensation shot up her arm.
“Jerusalem Aames,” he introduced himself.
Kaylah’s stomach clenched. Her vision tunneled. “Jerusalem?” she echoed in a whisper, peering into his eyes.
Her head swam as the message on the bathroom mirror shimmered in her mind.
“Jerusalem,” she said again.
The way she said it made his stomach tingle. It didn’t hurt that she was fucking gorgeous—blonde, blue-eyed. Stunning. If he had to guess her age, he’d say mid-thirties.
People generally had strange reactions to his name. He’d heard every dumb joke or religious remark going, but this was the first time a woman had seemed on the verge of hyperventilating over it. Her hand trembled in his. It made him want to hold on more firmly.
All of a sudden he realized she was the same woman he’d seen on the bridge. She’d scared the shit out of him then. For a split second, he’d thought she was going to take a swan dive—the permanent kind. He must have mistaken her intent.
“That’s a very unique name, Mr. Aames,” she said, seeming to gather her scattered wits.
He tipped his head. “Salem, please. And you are?”
“Mikaylah.”
“Nice to meet you, Mikaylah.” He held her gaze—and her hand—for a long moment. She had sad eyes.
She extricated her hand then gathered her purse. “Have a good lunch, Lindsay.”
Salem watched the attractive blonde exit the restaurant. He’d never seen her in here before.
“Hey, Salem, Lindsay.” Jenna bustled up to their table. “How are you today?”
“Hi, Jenna.” Salem pried his stare from the door.
She smirked. “See something you like, Salem?”
“What?”
She snorted as she set down two plates of fries and drinks.
“So, what’s up this week?”
“Not much.” Salem sat down next to his niece.
“Find any work?”
“I have a few leads. I’m hoping at least one of them will pan out this time.”
“Good luck on that one, bu
t I’ve got a lead for you. The lady who just left is going to be needing some major help in the near future. I don’t know if she’s already got a crew in place but—”
“Jenna! Stop yakking and start serving!”
“Whoops, gotta go. See ya, Lindsay-girl.”
“Thanks, Jenna,” Salem replied, then grabbed the ketchup bottle from the center of the table, just as his cell phone vibrated.
Lindsay plucked it from his shirt pocket.
“Thanks.” Salem thumbed the screen. “Hello?”
“This is your answering service,” the nasal voice intoned. “We have a message for you. Are you in a position to take the details at this time?”
“Yep. Go.” He pulled out a pen, ready to scrawl the address on a napkin.
Chapter Two
The next day, with the napkin sitting on the faded dashboard of his truck, Salem pulled up in front of the century-old brick house. As he exited his pickup, he was already assessing the outside of the home. It needed work.
He grabbed the ancient wood rail as he swung himself up onto the wrap-around porch. The elaborate railing-cap came off in his hand.
“Shit!” He tried to replace it, but the dowel had rotted so badly, part of it still remained in the hole. Delicately, he set it on the rail, then rang the bell and waited.
He knocked.
For the longest time, there was no sound from within. No scurrying footsteps.
Salem pulled out his cell phone and checked the time. “Yep, right on the dot.”
He was about to pound on the door again, when it swung open and his stomach cart-wheeled.
“Sorry. I was upstairs. Without the doorbell hooked up, sometimes I don’t hear…” She stopped speaking, then a slow grin spread across her face as recognition dawned.
“Hi, again.” Salem grinned at the gorgeous woman from the café. “I was looking for Mike MacDonough.” As soon as he said it, he was disappointed. This amazing-looking woman was obviously attached.
“That’s me.” She stuck out her hand. “Mikaylah MacDonough.” She smiled, but, again, he noticed the merriment did not quite reach her eyes. “Or just Kaylah. But my daddy used to call me Mike. He wanted a boy.”
Salem took her hand in his and the same undercurrent he’d noted at the restaurant shot up his arm again.
“Yeah, I’m not calling you Mike.” He laughed. She looked nothing like a Mike. “I have a feeling you and I both spend way too much time explaining our unique monikers to strangers.”
“Mmm, not so much. Mikaylah’s not that uncommon. The spelling of it? That’s another story. I’m interested to know the origin of yours, though.”
“Mine’s easy. My parents went on a trip to Israel and nine months later…”
“Ahhh, I see. But you prefer ‘Salem’?”
“Well, I’d prefer something normal but ya deal, right?” He grinned.
She chuckled and his belly fluttered at the sound.
“I think I made out a whole lot better than my brother Florence, though.”
She blinked, then laughed heartily. It took everything in him to keep a straight face. As her hilarity wound down, her lovely blue eyes rounded. “You’re kidding, right?”
He couldn’t maintain it and cracked a smile. “I’m just foolin’. His real name is Sicily.”
“Are you sure you’re a contractor and not just a really bad comedian.”
“Hmm, bad, huh? I won’t give up my day job.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it. So?” she began after an awkward pause. She tucked her thumbs into the front pockets of her shorts. It took all the willpower he had not to look down and admire her thighs and long, luscious legs. “How do you usually go about this? Do you want me to show you around and point out the problems I’ve found? Or would you rather do a walk-through on your own first?”
“Either, or. I’m easy.”
“Well, how about you go ahead. I’ve got a couple of boxes I need to unload from the mobile storage unit out there. If you have any questions, give me a yell. We’ll meet up, whoever’s done first?”
“Sounds good. I need to grab my estimate book from the truck.”
Salem did a thorough inspection. It took him more than two hours. He’d even crawled under the house, which wasn’t easy anymore. But he was confident he’d found the major problems.
He hobbled down the porch, as Kaylah approached with a huge moving box in her arms. He couldn’t even see her face. After setting his notebook down on the top step, he stood in her way on purpose so she’d run into him, his arms at the ready to catch the box.
“Shiza!”
Salem took the weight of the box while chuckling at the strange curse.
“Oops,” she squeaked.
“I got it,” he said.
“I’m sorry.” She relinquished her hold on the carton.
“No problem. Where do you want it?”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Direct me. It’s no trouble.”
“I’d like it upstairs. The front bedroom.” Now he couldn’t see over it. He heard the rusted hinges on the screen door creak.
“Here. Let me grab the front of the box here…” Kaylah said, as the weight distribution shifted. “I can steer us up. How’s that? It’s more awkward than it is heavy.”
Salem wondered if she’d noted his limp and that’s what had led to the offer of help.
Together, they navigated the stairs.
“Top step coming up, then turn to your right. Here we are. Thanks.” She backed away.
Salem set the container on the floor of the empty room.
“No problem.”
Kaylah turned and rubbed her chest above her right breast. The gesture was distracting as hell.
“You okay?” he asked, concerned. “Did you lift something too heavy?”
Self-conscious, he assumed, she let her hand fall away.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be lugging all this stuff around by yourself. Do you have help?” He wondered again if there was a man in her life—a boyfriend, a husband. As an afterthought, Salem looked at her hands. No rings, but that didn’t mean anything these days.
“No, I’m good. Um…so, how’d you make out?” She moved over to the old storm window and tried to open it. “There’s a lot to do, isn’t there?” She turned, obviously anxious at the undertaking ahead.
“Well, it’s a big job, yes. But let’s talk budget then we can get to the most immediate concerns.”
“I want this room done first,” she blurted.
“Oh. All right. I thought you’d probably want to address the foundation issues and plumbing problems,” he said slowly. But as her gaze darted around the room, he realized something about this room was important. “What were your plans for this room?”
She patted her back pocket. “Oh. My phone. I must have left it in the container outside. I have to go get it. My daughter might call. ’Scuse me.”
Salem watched her go. “Daughter, huh?” He looked down at the box they’d carried up and read the words written in black marker. Upstairs. Autumn’s stuffed animals.
He turned back to the window and stared down over the yard below. He caught sight of Kaylah disappearing into the storage unit outside.
The house phone began to ring. He jumped at the sound and looked to the portable handset sitting on the floor. He hadn’t even noticed it. He hesitated then picked it up. “MacDonough residence.”
“Oh, uh, hello? Who’s this?” a young female voice responded.
“Um”—he paused—“Who’s this?”
“I’m looking for Kaylah. Is she there?” Now the voice was full of concern.
“Yes, hold on. She just stepped out to—”
“Who is this?”
“I, um… I’m the contractor…I hope,” he added.
“Hey, did she finally hire someone? Great!”
“Well, it’s not official yet, but—”
“She’s going to make you start on my room first.”
Relaxing, he chuckled. “Is this your room? She did seem rather eager to start here. Got any ideas?”
“Tons, but Mom knows all my specs. She’ll fill you in. Though I do want a futon…in royal purple.”
“I’ll leave the décor up to you and your mom,” he said, chuckling.
“I’m Autumn, by the way, and you are?”
“Salem. Salem Aames.”
“Well, that’s a unique name, Mr. Aames.”
“I get that a lo—”
“Is it short for something?”
The inquisitiveness in her young voice reminded him of Lindsay.
“Jerusalem.”
“Hey, that’s perfect.”
“Yeah, ya think?”
He heard voices in the background, then her muffled voice. “Yeah, I’m coming.” Then to him, “Sorry. I’ve gotta go.”
“Oh, no, don’t, I think your mom was really looking forward to your call. In fact, she just rushed out to get her cell in case you phoned.” He looked anxiously out of the window.
“Don’t tell her I called, then. She’ll be upset if she knows she missed me. We’re both trying to get used to this new setup. I wasn’t supposed to call until later tonight. I’ll call her back then. Nice to meet you, Jerusalem.”
“You, too, Autumn. Take care.”
There was a click, then silence.
At that moment, he heard the stair creak. Quickly, he set the phone back into its dock.
“Sorry about that,” Mikaylah said, as she entered. “My daughter’s away for the first time and I…” She shrugged as her lovely, expressive blue eyes filled. Flustered, she brushed her cheek. “We’re both trying to get used to this new setup. Being separated and all.”
“Yeah, hey, I get that.” Funny, they used the same words.
“Do you have children?”
“Sadly, no, but I borrow my niece whenever I get a chance.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped as if she were disappointed that he didn’t really understand that kind of connection.
“Lindsay was a baby when I got shipped overseas. We got to know each other over Skype as she grew. And, since I got back, I’ve been trying to make up for lost time. I was really close to my brother. Unfortunately, he died soon after I returned, and I’ve tried my best to…well, not fill his boots because no one will ever replace him, but I don’t want his daughter to forget him.”