Good Wood (Carved Hearts)

by L. G. Pace III

  I didn’t see her again until a few months later when Chet had his stroke. Molly came home as fast as she could but he died an hour before she walked in the door. Mac was under the impression she wasn’t going to come. That she thought she was too good for us. Mac treated Molly so badly at the hospital...I felt like I had to say something to him.

  At first he didn’t want to believe me but after I offered to put him on the phone with Dan he realized I was serious. He tried to talk to her about it but she stonewalled him. In the end, the only way for him to make peace with her was to drop the subject. When I asked him about it later he said ‘Molly is too stubborn. She’ll never ask for help.”

  I nodded at that.

  “So the twins have a lot of guilt when it comes to Molly. They both feel like they should have pushed harder, pressed her more, invited Draven to Vegas and buried him in the desert.”

  I snorted at her comment, because I could hear Mason saying it.

  “The one time the Hildebrandts met Draven, the twins both hated his guts. He didn’t do or say anything…I know…I was there. Mac said he just ‘had a bad feeling’. That was long before my visit to Seattle.” Robin settled back as if her story had come to an end.

  “Okay.” I exhaled, laying my head back on the couch and staring at the tin panels on the ceiling. “It’s all pretty horrific, but I’m glad you told me. It explains a lot.”

  “I know you’ve been through the ringer, Joseph. But as your friend, I thought you ought to know she has been too. It complicates things, but having the information might give the two of you an edge.”

  She left soon after, assuring me the twins were both sorry even if they didn’t know it yet. Wired from the anger still surging in my system, I cleaned up my dinner mess and put the remaining pizza in the fridge. Minutes later when I crawled into bed with Molly, I tossed and turned restlessly. Finally, I pulled her to me, spooning her in an overprotective manner. Though it meant lying on the side of my wounded jaw, I had to feel her against me…to know that she was safe. I immediately felt more relaxed and most of my agitation melted away. Molly sighed softly and rolled over, squirming against me.

  “You’re so warm.”

  I kissed her forehead. She didn’t feel feverish, but maybe I was. “Shhh…go back to sleep, little one.”

  She muttered something unintelligible and nuzzled into my chest. As I drifted off to sleep a single thought kept rolling around inside my congested and addled brain.

  Rest easy, baby. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.

  AFTER A GOOD night’s sleep and a healthy dose of cough medicine, I felt human again. This was a decidedly good thing, as it was mid-December and I was running out of shopping days. My nieces and nephews would have my head if I came to the family Christmas empty-handed.

  Joe was crashed out, and as much as I wanted to take him shopping with me, I was afraid to wake him if he was half as sick as I’d been the night before. I took a quick shower and ravenous, I went in search for left over pizza for breakfast.

  I was warming some up in his microwave when his croaking voice made me jump.

  “Someone must be feeling better.”

  “Dayquil. Orange gold in a bottle.” I turned around and gasped, dropping the pizza box on the floor. Joe looked like he’d been hit by a truck. “Oh my god, what happened?”

  He tried to talk again, but his voice cracked so badly that nothing came out. He blinked tiredly at me as I stepped over the pizza to inspect his injury. There was a small cut, but he didn’t flinch when I turned his head for a better look

  “Mason.” He squawked on his second try. My eyes shot to his and then my shoulders fell.

  “Charlie. That little fucking weasel. The next time he buys lunch from us I’m spitting in his food.”

  I busied myself making Joe tea with honey and we hung out on the couch playing unintentional twenty questions. No, his throat didn’t hurt. Yes, his face did hurt. No, he didn’t get in trouble for the fight. I kept firing questions at him more rapidly. Frustrated, Joe pulled out his phone and texted me the story of what happened with my brothers. I fumed as I read the explanation on my phone. I felt my temper flare not just at their bungling interference, but at the fact they hadn’t even resolved the issue.

  “I’m going to kick both their asses.” I reached for my shoes and Joe pulled me back onto the coach. He fixed me with a stern look and shook his head. He held up a finger and then started texting again.

  Robin came to apologize for him. She brought us cheesecake.

  “I’ve tasted her cheesecake…that hardly makes up for anything.” I made a disgusted face and he laughed. It was a horrendous sounding squawk and it caused me to chuckle in return. “Gee. What a lovely singing voice you must have, Joe.”

  He smirked and I kissed him gently, trying hard not to injure him further. He accepted my clumsy attention graciously. When I pulled away, he studied me and his face darkened a bit. He picked up his phone again.

  She had a lot to say about Draven.

  Stricken, I lifted my gaze from the phone to his eyes. Hunting Joe’s face for hints, I was convinced he and Robin’s chat had been far too long for my taste.

  “I really wish she hadn’t done that.” I whispered, looking down at my hands in my lap. Swallowing hard past the enormous lump in my throat, I felt like my face was an inferno. Humiliation consumed me and I had the overwhelming desire to leave. As if he read my mind, Joe reached out and pulled me into his arms. I realized I was shaking and couldn’t decide of it was due to the anger or the embarrassment. He tilted my chin up and I could see a thousand questions in his eyes.

  “I need to know what she said.” I demanded. Joe grudgingly began typing and periodically held the phone up for me to read. Fluctuating between rage, bashfulness, and downright annoyance, I shook my head and made disapproving faces as I read the series of messages.

  “Okay…some of this is sort of true.” I conceded.

  New York?

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes. His family. They’re a bunch of bastards. If anything, I actually felt sorry for Drae. It was obvious that as “the baby” no one took him seriously. He’d told me before that even though he was the most successful of the bunch they condescended to him all the time. But I guess I didn’t expect him to be so hard up for their approval. When they didn’t fall instantly in love with me, I could see his was crushed. And angry. But it seemed like he was angry with me about it, like I wasn’t trying hard enough to be likeable. What Robin failed to mention was that instead of buying a dress for that fucking play with his American Express card, I bought a first class ticket back to Seattle. I didn’t even come back for my stuff or tell him I was leaving. I took a cab back to our house, packed a bag, and went to stay in Dan’s guest room.”

  Joe never lost his poker face and I pressed my lips together and folded my arms across my chest. “I went to get another tattoo since he hated them so much. The big one…here on my shoulder. Then I updated my resume and told Dan I was going to bail on the restaurant. We weren’t officially open yet, so it was the perfect time to leave and get another job.”

  I was quiet for a while when I thought about all of the times I planned to leave him and all of the impromptu tattoos that followed.

  “Tell me.” His two words came out in an airy burst, so it seemed like the tea and honey he was drinking were working some magic.

  “He found me. He always found me. Dan thinks it’s because his family’s connected to the mob. I told him I seriously doubt that or I’d probably be at the bottom of the lake wearing cement shoes.” I snickered, but when I turned to Joe his expression was far from amused. Seeing his reaction, my dry smile evaporated. “He has a gift for apologies. He’s always ‘under so much stress’, which admittedly, he was. But when I was in his good graces, he made me feel like the only person in the world that mattered.”

  Joe gave me his thousand mile stare. I felt tears escape my eyes and I pushed them angrily off my cheeks with my sleeves. “
I know how moronic it sounds, Joe. But he was my husband. At that point I had screwed up every other relationship in my life…I may have taken those stupid vows in a tacky Vegas chapel but I always try to keep my promises.

  He frowned at me angrily, and I couldn’t figure out if he was mad at me or my stories. Then he was typing again.

  The freezer thing? Your wrist?

  Wow, Robin. Seriously?

  After a moment’s hesitation I nodded, having trouble meeting his eyes. “In his defense, I called him a douche nozzle in front of the staff. And I threw my dirty apron in his face. It was very Jerry Springer. What can I say? He brings out the worst in me.”

  “Don’t defend him. There is no excuse for what he did.” Joe forced the words out, sounding a little more like himself. His emphatic stare was unyielding. “Say it.”

  I paused, realizing how automatic it was for me to downplay every incident. How easily I justified even the worst of Drae’s behavior. Joe’s eyes were insistent and I took a very large breath. “There’s no excuse for what he did.”

  That seemed to satisfy him, at least temporarily. He tossed the phone aside and after I forced medicine and more tea into him, we settled in to watch a movie. At some point we both fell asleep on the couch. When he nudged me awake he was feeling significantly better. His voice was still touch-and- go, but he had plenty of energy for other athletic activities.

  After we finished breaking in his couch, we got cleaned up and headed to the mall. He groaned with dread at the crowded parking lot, but soldiered on after I pointed out it was just going to get worse as we got closer to Christmas.

  As soon as we walked through the entrance, Joe pulled me in the direction of the food court.

  “Starving.” He growled, sounding very much like a caveman.

  I bit my lip impishly. “Need some protein to refuel?”

  If I could have bottled the virile look he gave me, I could’ve ruled all womankind.

  We quickly downed some Thai food, and launched into a wild hunt for presents.

  Joe, as a shopper, was doubly entertaining because of his monosyllabic state. He’d hold up different toys for my nieces and nephews and blurt their name. His intuition for kids was great, and I felt sure he nailed all of their presents. As we checked out, he grabbed a couple of sugary stocking stuffers for his nieces.

  An hour later, I had everyone else done except Mason and Mac. I briefly considered buying a big box of itching powder and dumping it into their dressers. Then I decided I was in no mood to shop for them, so I sprawled on a leather chair in the center of the mall with all of our packages. Joe went into an art gallery to take a closer look at a print for Tamryn. My phone rang and I answered it without looking.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Doll.”

  The bottom dropped out of my stomach at the sound of his voice and my initial reaction was a rush of fear. I peered at my surroundings like some sorority girl in a slasher film as if he’d be standing nearby

  “Don’t call me Doll. What do you want, Draven?” There was a pause on the other end of the line and I could almost see him fighting his anger. When he replied his voice was as sweet and sultry as before.

  “I’m not trying to pick a fight. I saw the article about your truck in The Austin Chronicle. Looks like you’re killing it. Congrats.”

  “Since when do you read The Chronicle?” I was disturbed on a level I hadn’t been in a long time and realized someone must have forwarded it to him. Following my local paper was creepy even by Draven’s standards.

  He sighed in a patient way that always made me feel like a spoiled child. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m signing the papers on the house soon and wanted to know what address to mail the check to?”

  “Just send it to my lawyer. He can make sure it gets to me.” Again there was another pause but I looked up and saw Joe heading back. “Thanks for the update. I have to go.”

  I hung up without another word and Joe gave an odd look as he sat down.

  “What’s up? Problem with the trucks?” I shook my head suddenly feeling very tired.

  For a moment, I thought about telling Joe how Draven made me feel. How scared I was of him. It wasn’t just the fact that he’d hurt me, there was a lot more to it than that. Looking back on the time we spent together his behavior had continually escalated. I still remembered the last thing he said to me when I broke it off.

  “If you walk away from me you won’t need to worry about finding another job. You hear me?”

  The way he said it had made me do something I had never done before. Run. And what better place to go when you are scared then home, even if you don’t exactly feel welcome there?

  The words were threatening to burst out of my lips when something stopped me. The thought of telling Joe this now, in the middle of a crowded mall was bizarre. He already was dealing with so much of his own, it was unthinkable for me to add to his troubles. I smashed my bullshit back down into the dark.

  “No. It was Draven. He’s closing on the house soon. I’ll finally be able to close the book on that horrible chapter of my life.”

  He looked like he wanted to say something and I tensed waiting for a rebuke. Instead, he put his arm around me. Kissing the top of my head, he whispered into my ear.

  “That sounds like good news to me. You wanna celebrate?” I looked up and met his eyes. They were so full of caring and compassion I felt my heart flutter in my chest.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  He made two stops on the way back to the apartment. One was at a Mediterranean restaurant that I’d been dying to try for take-out. The second was at Cheers Liquor to get some beer. We took our dinner up to the roof of his building and I was overjoyed to see he had a little garden like patio up there. He flipped a switch and it lit up with several strings of white patio lights. Everything had the look and feel of being brand new and he smiled when he saw my reaction.

  “Joe, it’s amazing.” The patio was built out of an exotic looking wood that raised the furniture a few inches off the flat roof. The furniture itself was handmade out of different kinds of wood. Canvas seats hung between the sides without a center support. They looked odd but when I sank into one I realized how comfortable that made them. I noticed that he’d transplanted some of my favorite wildflowers into the surrounding plant boxes. “When did you do this?”

  “You said you missed your patio back in Seattle. I figured if I could make a space for us up here that it would help keep you here longer.”

  There was a simple, unguarded look on his face while he talked to me that touched me. There was no game playing with Joe. What you saw was what you got and what I saw before me was pretty damn mouthwatering.

  After we ate, Joe showed me that the two lattice walls had sliding doors that enclosed the patio on three sides when shut. The only open side faced the door downstairs. Once we had them closed I realized how much privacy the three walls provided. The weather had warmed up nicely and I decided we should christen the new deck. Joe didn’t argue and we ended up christening it twice before it got just too chilly and we had to return to the apartment.

  Our simple weekend was the beginning of a wonderful seven day stretch. I found myself spending more time at his place than I did at mine. Sanchez and Stacy both really stepped up and each of the trucks were working so well that I found myself with a surprising amount of free time. I still worked at both trucks, but I was able to set my own schedule.

  There was one little thing I had to clear up and without delay. My first day back at the hotel site, I parked the truck early and waited for Mason and Mac. They rode together that day, and were walking toward the hotel. I came up behind them and grabbed Mason by the back of his shirt. Slamming him into the food truck with all of my might, I slapped him full force across the face. His eyes bugged out in surprise and I went in for another strike when Mac put a hand on my shoulder. I hostilely shrugged him off.

  “What? You can dish it out but you can’t t
ake it? You need to learn to keep your hands to yourself.” I spat at Mason.

  “Molly…” Mac used his reasonable tone as he reached for me again. I shot him a deadly glare, tightening my grip on Mason’ collar.

  “You shut the hell up, Mac. I want you two to listen very carefully. Enough is enough. I’ll see who I want when I want. So help me God, if either of you touch a single hair on Joe’s head I will kick both of your asses right here in front of all of your friends.”

  “Okay, Molly. Alright. We got it.” Mason pushed me away with one hand, holding his cheek where I’d slapped him.

  “Now get lost.” I turned away from them. “We all have jobs to do.”

  When Joe heard about it through the grapevine, he appeared at the entrance to the food truck.

  “Hey, Bruiser.” He teased in his lazy drawl. “Francis gave me the low down about your altercation with your brothers. What’s next? Dueling pistols at dawn?”

  “Ha ha. You know me. I feel the need to mark my territory.” I scoffed, then joking added, “no one messes with my man.”

  “Well, I guess whatever you said worked.” He climbed up a step and brushed some flour off the tip of my nose. “They asked me if I was coming to dart league this weekend.”

  I snaked my hands around his neck. “Are you?”

  He shrugged, “I thought I’d come to your place instead.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  His smirk continued, “if you’ll have me.”

  “Oh, I’ll have you, alright.” I whispered, before Stacy cleared her throat authoritatively.

  Later in the week, Joe led me down into his workshop to show me some little figurines he had carved.

  “I was wondering if you thought people would like these as gifts.” Pulling off the dust cover he revealed the carvings. Sitting down on a stool I picked up the first one, turning it slowly in my hand. It was Mac. There was no mistaking the cheesy look on his face, the oversized mouth and the oversized cigarette clenched in the tiny wooden fist. I belly-laughed for several minutes before trading it for the next one