Heartwood

Home > Other > Heartwood > Page 5
Heartwood Page 5

by L. G. Pace III


  I felt Molly’s tiny hand grab my jaw and she turned my face back to hers. “You’re so kind, Joe.”

  “Only to you.” I shot back. My tone was light, but her penetrating eyes trapped mine.

  “Why are you so afraid to show the world that big heart of yours?” She asked.

  I considered my response, but it didn’t take long for me to puzzle things out. As was often the case, the root cause of my discomfort came from my unusual childhood. “When I was growing up, dad’s job kept us all focused on appearances. That’s one aspect of my family I never missed after they kicked me out.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off.

  “If I decide to do something for someone, I don’t need a banquet thrown in my honor. I’m not my dad.”

  My last words came out harsher than I expected, and Molly blanched, shrinking back from me a couple of inches. Gutted by the wary way her eyes narrowed, I immediately went across the console after her and gently took her into my arms.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m an asshole.” I whispered, brushing her temple with my lips. “My family is still a pretty touchy subject, baby girl.”

  I felt her nod against me. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not.” I sighed. Startled, she frowned as she searched my face. “I need to sort that shit out and move on.”

  “Hey.” Molly sat up, straighter and her bold expression took me by surprise. “Let’s table this conversation for later. I want to focus on why we’re doing this event in the first place. This was a great idea, Joe. I’m proud of you, whether you like it or not. Your cleverness is about to raise a crap-ton of money for Francis’s project. They’ll feed and shelter a lot of people, thanks to you.”

  We sat lost in each other’s eyes for a long moment, and I blinked uncomfortably under her scrutiny. Her unwavering belief in me was humbling, considering I’d been such a waste of space for years. Still, I wanted to be the man she believed I was. I pressed my forehead to hers as if to draw strength from her mental image of me. She closed her eyes and I watched as her features relaxed. The weight of my love for her crushed me, and I was very tempted to drive her directly to the courthouse, wedding deposits be damned. I gently brushed her hair off her cheek. “That’s my girl. Always with the silver lining to my black cloud.”

  A horn blasted next to us and we both jumped in our seats. I looked over my shoulder and saw Mac grinning wickedly. He sat behind the steering wheel of his truck, mostly blocked from view by his girlfriend, Kelly, who waved from the passenger seat. I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the twins were still asleep. I lowered my window.

  “Aren’t you two a little old to be making out in parking lots?” Mac snickered at his own joke, leaning forward so he could see us past his tiny lady-friend.

  “You’re only as old as you feel.” I quipped.

  “Then I must be ready for the retirement home.” Kelly winced, opening her door. She wore a walking boot on her left leg. She tried to climb awkwardly out of the vehicle, but Mac raced around the truck and lifted her out like she was a child.

  “Kelly!” Molly gasped. Mac carefully placed Kelly on the ground and pulled a pair of crutches out of the back seat. He handed them to her. “What the hell?”

  “It’s my fault.” Mac grumbled, but Kelly shook her head with a delicate smile.

  “Stop saying that. It’s not true.” Kelly’s soft voice matched her gentle demeanor perfectly. She’d always struck me as someone who could play a princess at Disney World. She had all the right qualities: sweet, lovely, and patient with kids. The last bit was pretty important, since she was a teacher at a local elementary school.

  “Yeah, it is. We were hiking Mount Bonnell. We were just about to the top when I took off running...you should have seen her face. Little Miss Alpha can’t stand to get second place ever. So she tore off after me like a bat out of hell and passed me like I was standing still.”

  “Yeah. Then I stepped in a big hole and sprained my ankle.” Kelly grimaced.

  “Ouch!” Molly exclaimed, her eyes the size of saucers.

  “She’s lucky she didn’t fall off the side of the cliff.” Mac added.

  “How long do you have to wear that thing?” I asked.

  “Two weeks. It’s a really bad sprain. When the doctor told me, I bawled my eyes out. I’ve been training so hard for the half marathon and now there’s no way I can do it. Mac had to carry me all the way back down to the car. I’m surprised he isn’t in a back brace.”

  Mac huffed with a small head shake. “You weigh ninety pounds soaking wet.”

  Wrapping his arm around Kelly, Mac pulled her to him so that she leaned on him for support. He kissed the top of her head, and her dark eyes shone with admiration as she stared up at him. Molly and I exchanged a quick, knowing glance. We’d both agreed that they made a sickeningly cute couple. Molly smirked, and I knew she was remembering our recent conversation about them. Molly had said that she felt bad that she initially written Kelly off as ‘too nice’ for Mac. Kelly was nice, but Molly told me that she now believed Kelly was just the strong, silent type that Mac needed in his life.

  I couldn’t have agreed more. Mac had always been a rebel without a clue, but since Kelly’s arrival he’d made all kinds of positive changes. Hell, the amount of money he saved on cigarettes alone would easily pay Malcolm Junior’s college tuition when the time to do so came.

  Mac had finally developed a social life that didn’t include a keg and tapper as a permanent fixture. I wasn’t one to throw stones from my glass whorehouse, but between golf league, dart league, softball league, bowling, and watching every game on ESPN, I’d assumed Mac would remain a bachelor forever. Based on the daytime talk show-worthy break up he’d had with Malcolm Junior’s mom, I couldn’t really blame him.

  I’d warned him not to marry a bartender. Not that I had anything against bartending-it’s a noble profession. It’s just that Mac didn’t need any help getting drunk and frankly, his ex had ‘nasty skank’ written all over her.

  “Princess Patrón” (as Molly lovingly referred to her ex sister-in-law) had made quite a first impression on me. First of all, she was the loudest human being I’d ever met. The night Mac first introduced us, Mason and I met them at some dive bar down on Dirty Sixth. Jess and I had just gotten engaged the weekend before, and I was in a fairly good mood. About twenty minutes after Mac introduced his “lady”, she cornered me outside the restrooms.

  “You’re hot.” She slurred, groping my crotch. Then she tried to kiss me. Luckily, she was a clumsy drunk and I easily escaped her. Figuring she was just really smashed, I let it go without a word to Mac.

  As time went on, it seemed that type of behavior wasn’t an isolated incident. Mac and “Patrón” fought constantly, and though we all told him he was insane, he took her down to New Orleans for Mardi Gras and they came back hitched. Marriage didn’t do anything to tame their brawling. When she got knocked up a month after their wedding, Mac got serious in a hurry. He started working a lot so he could buy them a house, and she kept working at the bar. He caught her drinking more than once while she was carrying M.J., and it infuriated him. He threatened to take the baby from her when it was born. She responded by saying things like “who says it’s yours” or “maybe I should just get rid of it” and he’d back down. Though Mac had never said so, I think the idea that the baby was someone else’s haunted him long before she verbalized it.

  About three months after their son was born, she failed to come home from work. It was long after closing time, but there’d been a recent crime spree, so Mac packed up the baby and went to the bar to check on her. I think the last thing he expected was to catch her blowing some guy on the pool table. That was the night he showed up on my doorstep with the baby. The defeated look on his face made my stomach sink, but he’s a tough son of a bitch and never shed a tear in front of me.

  The two of them ended up staying for a couple of weeks before Mac made an offer on a house. I
t was the one he’d been saving for, and he promptly moved himself and the baby in. That’s when the real war began.

  She came slithering around, crying about how bad she screwed up, how much she loved him, how she wanted them to be a family, blah blah blah. Mac wasn’t stupid. He told her to hit the road. Then she went apeshit and hired a shady lawyer. She had the balls to ask the court for full custody, alimony, and child support. All Mac wanted was his son and her pickled ass out of his life for good.

  The courts allowed them shared custody, though they’d been back in front of the judge a couple of times since. Their battles had died down a lot recently, since she was dating someone new and Mac had been giving her more money. Though Mac bounced back quickly after Patrón, he hadn’t dated steadily with anyone since. I was sure he’d die alone until the day Kelly strolled into the shop asking for her dad. Mac took one look at her and was a goner.

  Physically, she was exactly the kind of girl he always went for: dark hair, deep tan, big brown eyes. The way she smiled back at him, I figured he’d nail her and then Francis would find out and shoot him. But it turned out that Kelly was far from the barfly party-girl type Mac was used to chasing after. She dressed and talked like a lady, had an education and a respectable job, was actually close to his age, and could do more push-ups than I could. Kelly was a totally different ballgame, and Mac had skipped spring training in favor of spring break.

  After some trial and serious errors on Mac’s part, they had officially managed to become a couple. Kelly must have had something special, ‘cause Mac looked so damn chipper these days that it was ridiculous. Mason and I made fun of him constantly, calling him whipped and basically throwing all of the bullshit comments we’d endured from him back in his face. He took it all with a smile. Whatever it was he had with Kelly, it obviously worked.

  Currently, they ogled each other as if Molly and I weren’t even standing there. When I saw Mac move in to kiss Kelly, I whipped my head away and busied myself grabbing the stroller out of the back of the truck.

  “Hello! Your sister is present!” Molly cried out in alarm. Kelly pulled away from Mac and nearly fell off her crutches. Mac shot Molly a dirty look and she cleared her throat. “That sucks about your race, Kell.”

  “I know. I tried to talk the doctor into clearing me early...” Kelly started, but Mac interrupted.

  “Over my dead body.” Mac emphasized each word as if chastising a naughty child. “The doctor was pretty clear. No cheating. You have to take the time to heal. You could screw it up permanently and then you can kiss running goodbye forever.”

  “Then you’d finally be able to keep up with me.” Kelly’s breathy laugh made Mac’s eyes pop. Her brow furrowed at his response. “Wait...that sounded dirty. Not like that.”

  “I don’t want you to lose that rockin’s ass.” Mac chuckled. The scarred look on Molly’s face made me huff out a laugh.

  “Just...stop talking.” Molly covered her face and then scrambled away to retrieve Eva from her car seat.

  By the time we got across the street with two babies, a double stroller, and the walking wounded, Sanchez had already fired up the grill in Molly’s food truck. Mac and Kelly wandered away, which I assume had something to do with the fact that Mac and Stacy used to be friends with benefits.

  Good for Mac. He was learning a little something about women after all.

  “Hey there, Little Mama! Hey, Joe!” Sanchez yelled and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Sanchez was always such a low key dude and this was the first time I’d heard him raise his voice. Then I realized that Carly was using a food processor next to him and between that noise and the grill he probably couldn’t hear himself think.

  “There’s my angels!” Stacy cooed, as she rounded the truck. She immediately hunkered down in front of the stroller and started tickling both the twins. Their slobbery smiles only seemed to encourage her and her already high pitched voice launched into the stratosphere.

  “Big fan of babies, are ya?” I asked.

  ‘What’s not to love?” She asked, unbuckling Logan and cuddling him against her. Logan seemed completely contented nestled against her ample chest. I had a feeling he’d be a boob man just like me.

  “When are you two gonna have one of your own?” I shot back. Sanchez turned a deep shade of crimson and he kept his attention glued to the grill. Molly’s eyes widened. Stacy’s gaze never left Logan, and she planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

  “Right now I’m focused on keeping the business in the black.” She said decisively, her lips closing after the words in a tight line. Normally, I would have shrugged off the entire exchange, but Molly and Sanchez’s reactions piqued my curiosity.

  “Business?” I asked, and Molly elbowed me. I shot her a surprised glance. Her eyes broadcasted a warning that left me completely confused. I opened my mouth and she cleared her throat and fixed me with a look that begged me to keep still.

  “There he is! Hey, Joe!” I recognized Graham’s voice and turned to see him waving me over to the judge’s platform.

  I turned back to Molly, who held out her arms to Stacy. Stacy handed Logan to her and immediately went after Eva. “I gotta go.”

  “We’re cool. Don’t keep ‘em waiting,” she insisted. Logan reached for her hair, but I brushed it out of the line of fire. He screeched, and Molly smirked impishly. “No pulling Mama’s hair, you little demon-child!”

  I hurried in Graham’s direction and I’d just reached his side when a camera flash went off in my face.

  “What the—” I blinked, trying to clear my vision.

  “It’s a good thing you’re so photogenic. That was not your good side.” I recognized the voice of Molly’s sardonic friend Lisa before my retinas recuperated from her assault.

  “Isn’t it bright enough out here without the damn flash?” I frowned.

  “It’s a little overcast.” Lisa sniffed, pushing her glasses up with her middle finger.” I need you to pose up here with the judges.”

  “Why?” I already didn’t like the direction this was headed. “The contest hasn’t even started yet. There’s nothing to judge.”

  “Do not question my artistic brilliance.” Lisa replied, as if I was wasting her time with trivial conversation. When I continued to stare at her expectantly, she sighed. “Molly asked me to take pictures for the Wrapgasmic and Good Wood websites. It’s good P.R.”

  My shoulders sagged. Obviously my publicity discussion with Molly had happened a little too late. I turned to my mentor and good friend, Graham for an assist. He arched an eyebrow at me like I’d lost my mind. I sighed. “I’d rather not be photographed.”

  “Good luck with that.” Lisa snorted. “Here comes Beverly Campbell with the photographer from the Chronicle.”

  “Shit.” I mumbled, glancing over my shoulder. Francis strode in my direction with Mrs. Campbell, the head honcho of the homeless shelter. She was a fixture in Austin, a widow of old money, with the reputation of a radical philanthropist. At least my father always thought so. He’d been rolling his eyes about her for as long as I could remember. She and I had met once before at some big black tie affair when I was in my teens. I remember thinking she was a total MILF. The years had treated her well, and she now looked like a retirement-age Ann Margaret.

  She was dressed in functional, practical clothes, but carried herself regally. Francis was arm and arm with her, escorting her over to us. They seemed a bit familiar for casual acquaintances, and I gave him a suspicious glance, as I caught his eye. His sunny grin and accompanying wink made me bite the inside of my lip to keep my laughter at bay.

  “Beverly, I’d like you to meet Joe Jensen.” Francis began.

  “Joe Jensen.” Her sharp eyes narrowed as she studied my features. “Not James Jensen’s son?”

  “One and the same. But don’t hold it against me.” I smiled, my face feeling a bit tight.

  Mrs. Campbell laughed heartily and nodded.

  “Well, okay then. I have to say I concur with Fra
ncis, Mr. Jensen. This event is shaping up to be quite the fundraiser.” She stuck out her hand. I heard Lisa’s camera shutter whirl.

  “Please...call me Joe.” I offered my hand in return, and she shook it. Her grip was surprisingly firm. This woman had more confidence than most of the guys here.

  “Joe it is. What a brilliant idea you’ve had here, Joe. This turnout is impressive and inviting Habitat for Humanity? That was an inspired touch.”

  I felt the color rising in my cheeks. “That was my fiancée’s idea.”

  “They said they’ve already signed up fifty volunteers from all this skilled labor that you have lured here. Genius move. Habitat is a wonderful organization. It’s like I always say, give a soul a bed and a meal and they’ll have one night of comfort. Give them four walls of their own...” She shook her head and I could see a sheen of tears gleaming in her eyes. Immediately uncomfortable, I deflected her attention at the expense of one of my favorite people in the world.

  “Have you met Graham? He owns the sponsoring construction company.” I thrust my friend in front of me like a sacrificial lamb.

  “I most certainly have. This isn’t our first rodeo, is it Graham?” When she smiled, she looked ten years younger. Graham graced her with his dimpled smile and used his “awe shucks” charm in response to her sprinkling of compliments. I looked at Graham for an explanation, wondering if the two of them had a past.

  “Our church does a lot of food drives. I’ve been down to the shelter many times.” Graham explained, seeming a tad embarrassed. It was probable that I was reading too much into their exchange. Graham was a humble man, and seemed about as uncomfortable with the ceremonial pats on the back as I was.

  “I’ve been wanting to thank you in person for your generous contribution.” With a gentle touch on his shoulder, Mrs. Campbell turned to face Lisa and the goofy looking photographer from the Chronicle. “Everyone give the cameras a happy smile.”

 

‹ Prev