Guy Next Door (9781460341179)

by Tippens, Missy

  “My nieces are pretty good about staying out of the tools, but thanks again for letting them play in the gym. When I was taking night classes, they sat in the hallway, right outside the open doorway of the classroom. It was tough, even with picture books and crafts. A few professors would let them sit in the back of the room, but they still had to be quiet.”

  “Not a problem. They’re having a great time. In fact, they’re better than most of the regular team. Does their mom work at night?”

  She reached for a rag to wipe off more potato sludge and said, “They live with me.” The whole story was too complicated for the moment. She hoped he understood that. The story of her childhood, her dad’s drinking and her sister’s wild life wasn’t something she shared with anybody outside of a court. Even then, it was humiliating to own the disaster of her family life and the poverty of her past. She needed to prove to the court she was the best one to take care of the girls. If they ended up in foster care, her heart would break.

  “Interesting. I’ve never met a—”

  With a loud clank, the tool slipped from her hand and rolled a few feet away. Sabrina closed her eyes, wishing she could click her heels and the chopper would be fixed. He’d never met a what? A single mother? A fractured family?

  He stuck out one foot, not leaving his post by the heavy raised cover, and nudged the wrench back in her direction as if it was a soccer ball. “I’ve never met a professional juggler.”

  She snorted. So he was funny as well as athletic and gorgeous. “Just a mediocre one, actually.”

  “That’s the thing about juggling. It’s really impressive to the person watching.”

  She couldn’t help smiling as the final gear came loose. Even though she usually worked in silence, it felt good to talk to someone older than Kassey. The kitchen sounds were soothing now, less frantic. She wondered if Marisol had sent some of the staff home, but she didn’t turn around to check. The clock was ticking.

  “How did you decide to become a mechanic?”

  Another swipe of the rag and the last half-peeled potato came out of the chopper. “I took classes.”

  Jack laughed, a sound rich and deep. She felt it from the base of her skull all the way down her spine. “Before that. Did you know it was your calling?”

  She shook out the rag and sat back for a second, meeting his gaze. “My calling?”

  He nodded, his expression completely serious. “Your purpose in life, if you want to call it that.”

  She dropped her gaze to the toolbox and kept her face straight as she searched for the locking pliers.

  “You want to say something, but you’re too polite.”

  Startled, she let out the laugh she’d been hiding. “True.”

  “Go ahead, be honest. I can take it.” And for all his obvious strength, she wondered if he could. It took a lot more than muscles to handle honesty; it took maturity. He looked about her age, maybe a few years closer to thirty.

  Sabrina drew in a breath and hoped she was being honest but not rude. Life was too short to be mean. “Finding your purpose in life sounds like something rich people worry about when they have a lot of options.”

  His face didn’t change, but his gaze sharpened, as if he was seeing her for the first time. “And you don’t have options.”

  “Not many. Not like that.” She ducked back under the hood and hoped that was the end of the conversation. She felt raw, as if he had stripped back layers of accumulated worry and anxiety. The question of purpose, of calling, was something she used to understand. But that was before Rosa had walked away and left her the mother to two little girls.

  “You must have a few.”

  “Sure,” she said, feeling a bead of sweat roll down the back of her neck as she worked at an old bolt. “I can fail or I can work harder.”

  “Like the rest of us, then.” He wasn’t letting the question go and frustration flared inside her, just for a moment. Who was he to ask questions that were already answered? Who really cared why she was a mechanic?

  She grabbed a can of industrial solvent and sprayed the inside of the stubborn part. The fumes were a reminder of the dirty, complicated job she did on a daily basis. She had to admit, she hadn’t chosen to be a mechanic because it seemed like fun.

  Twisting the sharp steel disks deep in the machine, Sabrina felt his silence like a steady presence. It was the first time in years that anyone had really cared why she did what she did, let alone asked. She was the responsible one, the girl everyone could count on, the one who never dropped a ball.

  Crawling out from under the hood, she stood with the wrench in one hand and a rusty bolt in the other. “I decided to be a mechanic because I love working with metal.” She waited for his look of confusion, for those dark brows to jerk up in surprise, for a deep laugh at the concept of loving something most people never even noticed.

  “What kind of metal?” Jack’s expression was pure curiosity, nothing more.

  “Brass, iron, aluminum. I used to love copper, but that was in my flashy phase.”

  He was staring at her, eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite define. She ducked back under the hood. “I think once I get the inside put back together, it’s going to work. Seemed to be jammed.” She sure hoped it was a jam and not an engine failure. Marisol was going to have a breakdown if Easter brunch was postponed.

  For once there was silence from Jack. She’d thought she wanted the peace, didn’t need the distraction, but she kept listening for the sound of his voice. His presence was distracting and comforting at the same time, and as her hands replaced part after part, she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to get to know him better, sometime when she wasn’t wearing coveralls and a hard hat. He probably had a girlfriend.

  Shaking the thoughts from her head, Sabrina tried to focus on the stubborn old machine in front of her. She’d really been working too hard. Her emotions were a mess. All it took was one handsome guy paying her a bit of attention and care, and suddenly she was planning their next date. And she didn’t have the leisure to plan anything more than how to get custody of the girls. That was her sole aim and nothing was going to shake her focus.

  It was imperative she show the courts she was steady, reliable and responsible. As soon as she was given custody, they’d find a cheaper place to live. They loved the apartment, true, but she couldn’t keep working around the clock like this. And she couldn’t move now or she might look unstable.

  If it weren’t for Rosa and that no-good boyfriend… A flash of anger swept through her and she let out a deep breath, willing herself to focus on forgiveness.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jack standing there. He was so quiet. She wondered what he was thinking and then was irritated at herself for wondering. It didn’t matter what this guy thought of her. The only thing she could focus on right now was keeping the girls in the only family they’d known.

  If they could just hang on a little longer, she would be their legal guardian and they could find another place. As it was, she was barely paying the bills. They were getting poorer by the month and something had to give. But it wasn’t going to be their little family; she would make sure of that.

  * * *

  Jack gripped the hood of the old chopper and stared into space. He had asked what he’d thought was a simple question about her life choices, but her answer hadn’t been what he’d expected. He’d assumed so much without realizing it. It had never been clearer to him that he was coasting along in life, hardly working for the things that he needed. Every door was open to him, but he was passing time in his father’s company and playing businessman. The young woman crouched by his feet had just knocked the breath out of him and didn’t even notice. He struggled to slow his pounding heart. He had been so sure that he wasn’t meant to work at the family company, and now, after one conversatio
n in a noisy kitchen, he was seeing it from a whole new angle. He had stayed because of his dad’s heart attack, but Jack was easing his way out of the business just as his dad was getting better. But now he wondered, who was he to quit a well-paying job because he wasn’t particularly happy? So what if Bob from packaging and distributions had made him feel powerless?

  The pettiness of it all made him sick to his stomach. This beautiful girl did what she could and didn’t complain about it, even as she scooped out rotting potato parts from old machines. Why? Because she was being a mother to two little girls who needed her. The utter selflessness of her story made him want to hang his head. He had wasted months dithering over whether to start a snowboarding company on Wolf Mountain, while families like hers were fighting to survive.

  “Go ahead and lower the hood.” Sabrina scooted out from under the machine, grabbing the power cord. “I want to see if this crusty old thing will run. Say a prayer.”

  Lowering the hood, he stepped back and watched her flip the switch. The engine roared to life and the kitchen erupted into cheers. Marisol flew at Sabrina, chattering in warp-speed Spanish, tears of happiness making tracks on her deeply lined brown cheeks. He couldn’t help but grin at the expression on Sabrina’s face. Half amusement, half relief.

  She flipped the machine off and found her drill, making quick work of replacing the bolts. She stood up and looked over at him. “Thanks for your help. Marisol says she’s going to make you tamales.”

  “Well, if I’d known there was a reward, I would have volunteered right away.” He pasted on a bright smile, hoping she couldn’t see how rattled he was by their conversation. As it was, she just laughed and brushed off the knees of her coveralls.

  “Would you let the girls know we’ve got to get going? I’ll just clean up here and be right out.” She took off the hard hat and started gathering her tools.

  “Will do.” He turned to the gym, feeling as if his legs were made of lead. In all his prayers over God’s purpose for his life, as he’d struggled over how to find happiness, he had never once considered that he should just work harder at his job.

  A ten-minute conversation with a woman in coveralls had given him a dose of reality. He glanced back, watching her carefully replace her tools in the green metal box. With her fragile features and dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, she looked like any other young woman, but the resolute set of her jaw belied the strength inside. She did what she had to do.

  Who was he to walk away from that much money when other people were struggling? Finding your purpose sounds like something rich people worry about when they have a lot of options. Her words echoed around his head, making his worry seem selfish and small.

  Jack watched Kassey and Gabby kick the soccer ball back and forth. Joyous and carefree, they were happy because of Sabrina. His father was happy he worked at the family company. Maybe it didn’t really matter how useful he was. Maybe his purpose wasn’t tied to his occupation. Maybe it was a state of being. Generosity, sacrifice and hard work made people happy, not the job.

  He let out a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. It would be months before his dad was well enough to put in a full day as head of the company. He would take it one day at a time. Maybe Sabrina’s way was better and putting his own happiness a little farther down the list of priorities would give him peace. He didn’t have anything to lose. Anything had to be better than pretending to love life as the company puppet.

  * * *

  “Tía Sabrina, we want to join the team!” Kassey ran across the gym floor with her arms open wide, glossy black hair falling out of her pigtails. Her grin was so wide Sabrina could see all her little teeth. She wrapped herself around Sabrina’s waist and beamed up with the perfect confidence of a child.

  “We do, we do!” Gabby added her voice to the pleading, tiny hands pulling on Sabrina’s pant leg.

  “I think the soccer team is for the mission children.” She felt the familiar sting of having to say no and wished for once, just once, it could be different. She rubbed a hand over Kassey’s hair, feeling the strands flow through her fingers like water.

  Jack walked toward them, a soccer ball under one arm. The rest of the children were being met by their parents and excited voices filled the echoing space. “Actually, any children can join. We started our own team here because the residents have trouble getting to the city league practices. And we do have a few openings.”

  Setting down her toolbox on the polished gym floor, she glanced up into those bright blue eyes and searched for words. Any words. She wanted to nod and agree, but she couldn’t. She had to explain that there was no way she afford sports equipment on top of school supplies, no way she could bring the girls to practice at the mission every day while taking evening jobs, and absolutely no way she could handle one more task in her life. She just couldn’t.

  He went on, his deep voice carrying easily through the noise around them. “We only have practice twice a week, Thursday and Friday. All the equipment is paid for through a special grant organized by one of the local churches.”

  “Please?” Kassey managed to make the word into several syllables while her voice rose two octaves.

  “I don’t know, sweetie. We just have so much going on…” Her voice trailed off at the look on her niece’s face. Disappointment, then a brave attempt to blink back tears.

  “Okay.” Kassey nodded and took Gabby’s hand. They stood quietly, waiting to go home.

  Sabrina sighed. They had sacrificed so much, had lost everything once before. If they had whined and fussed, it would be easier to say no. But that quiet strength tugged at her heart. She turned to Jack, narrowing her eyes. “Tell me the truth. What kind of time commitment is this? And is it really no charge? The equipment is free, but are there team fees? Game fees? Travel fees?”

  “Two practices a week. Games on Saturday afternoon at the inside field on Stanton. Everything free.” He didn’t glance at the girls or encourage them at all, and she was thankful for that. He was giving her space to consider, letting her make the decision without any pressure.

  “So, they need to try out? What if one gets in but not the other?” She crossed her arms. Stanton Avenue wasn’t far from their apartment. She could walk them down there. No fees and maybe the schedule would work, but these two girls had feelings she needed to consider, too.

  He leaned close, dropping his voice. She caught the light scent of soap and masculinity. “We don’t really have tryouts. The kids come and we sign them up. Everybody learns together.” He stood back and the corners of his lips turned up, as if they were sharing a secret.

  Heat crept up her neck and she dropped her gaze to Kassey’s hopeful eyes. This was about the girls, not the coach, although her brain was gibbering something about how seeing Jack two times a week could be very interesting. Maybe she wouldn’t even stink of rotten potato peel next time. “Homework will always have to be done first. And you have to be team players. And help each other.”

  They both let out tiny shrieks of happiness. “We will, we promise!” Matching pairs of dark eyes shone with joy and Sabrina savored the feeling of being the hero for once. She was always the one who had to say no. But not today.

  “Thank you.” The words came out huskier than she’d intended. Her throat felt tight and she swallowed away the sudden emotion. “It’s been a long time since they’ve gotten to do something really fun.”

  “No problem.” He laid a hand on Kassey’s shoulder, face serious. “Next practice is Thursday. You two are saving the team. We were short a few players and now we’ll have enough alternates that no one will get too tired out during the game.” He was speaking to them as if they were newly acquired star players.

  Their expression of wide-eyed glee made her breath catch. There were caring teachers at school and sweet Mrs. Guzman from upstairs. But there was a hole in their lives where
a mom and dad should be. She was determined to keep them together as a family, but she knew what she gave them wasn’t always enough. She did her best to fill a mom’s shoes, but this kind of validation, from someone like Jack, meant more than she’d realized.

  Copyright © 2014 by Virginia Muñoz

  ISBN-13: 9781460341179

  The Guy Next Door

  Copyright © 2014 by Melissa L. Tippens

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