by Lexy Timms
“Did you sleep well?” I asked.
“For the first time in awhile,” Hailey said.
“Good. You just keep getting some rest, and I’ll be back by lunch. I promise,” I said.
“I guess,” she said. “If you insist.”
She burrowed back down into the covers, and I pressed one last kiss to her cheek. I didn’t actually have foundation work to do today. There was some going on, but that wasn’t where my sights were set. I was going to go check on the house and see how it was going, especially since I had finally gotten Foreman Jack that damn wallpaper.
I wanted to see if they had put it up yet.
I grabbed my things and left Hailey in bed as I traveled to the site. I was anxious to see what type of progress the guys had made. We were within days of having this entire thing finished, and I was getting excited. I couldn’t wait to reveal the surprise to Hailey nor could I wait to start furnishing the place. I would put all the most comfortable furniture in it. I was finally going to be able to move my child’s nursery furniture I had made into the nursery. I could feel my excitement bubbling in my stomach as I crested the hill, and when I finally pulled up to the house, I felt a sense of relief wash over me.
There wasn’t one worker outside, which meant they were all inside working on the interior.
I shut off my truck and hopped on out. I took a walk around the house, surveying it from the outside. I headed in through the french doors that had been installed in the dining area and stepped right into the smell of drying paint. I was shocked at how much progress had been made, and everyone turned to wave at me as I slowly walked through the house.
“Bryan! Hey, man. What’s going on?”
“Hey there, Jack. I wanted to stop by and see how things were coming along,” I said.
“You wanted to check on the wallpaper,” Foreman Jack said.
“That obvious?”
“Nope. I’ve just known you that long. Come on, I’ll show it to you.”
“You’ve got it up already?” I asked.
“That was the first room I worked on when we all transitioned to the interior. I think you’re going to like how it turned out.”
I followed Foreman Jack through the house and took in everything around me. The walls were this neutral blueish-gray, and the baseboards and crown molding were this vibrant cream color. It reminded me of the walls of Hailey’s gallery, and it made me smile. I knew she would love the neutral color scheme because it would give her a chance to really add color to the rooms she wanted to switch around and change.
But something was nagging me in the pit of my gut.
I followed the foreman up the stairs before we turned down a truncated hallway. There was a door on either side of me, and Jack reached for the one on the left. I reached for the one on the right and tossed it open, finding a fully-stock bathroom across the hall from the nursery.
“That little one’s eventually going to grow up and need their own bathroom. Figured we’d go ahead and put one in.”
“Is ours this nice?” I asked.
“It’s nicer,” he said with a grin. “Come on. Let’s get a look at the nursery.”
I left the bathroom and wandered across the hall. I stepped into the nursery and took in the wallpaper I had ordered specifically for this room. It was finished expertly, and it shocked even me how good it looked. It didn’t look like wallpaper at all, and the pictures Hailey had drawn on the nursery at our current house were replicated perfectly.
It looked like she had come in and painted it herself.
“Holy shit. It looks incredible,” I said.
“It really does, and I’m not one to toot my own horn,” Jack said.
“How much longer do you think you guys are going to need to complete the house?” I asked.
“The painting’s gonna get done today, and we’re gonna have to let it dry through tomorrow. Tuesday, we’ll lay carpet down in the bedrooms, and then Wednesday and Thursday are gonna be hardwood floor days. I’ll come through and take a real hard look at things on Friday, and if everything checks out, then it’ll be ready for you to fill with furniture.”
“I can’t believe it’s almost done,” I said.
“You told Hailey yet?”
“If I’d told her, she’d be with me,” I said.
“Still keeping it a surprise?”
I could hear the anxiousness in Foreman Jack’s voice, and it did have me worried. I knew I was terrible at keeping secrets, but I figured I was doing a pretty good job with this one. But with Hailey’s growing distance, I started to wonder if it was because she knew I was hiding something from her. It would make sense, especially with her pregnancy hormones. If she thought I was hiding something from her, she could’ve twisted it around in her head to be something bad. And even though I had lied to her to keep a positive surprise from her, I had lied to her this morning.
I had lied to my beautiful wife and the mother of my child.
“You think I should tell her now?” I asked.
“I think you know her better than anyone else. But I know the last time I tried surprising my wife with something, she admitted she thought I was cheating.”
“What?” I asked.
“Yeah. Wanted to get her a new wedding ring set for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. I was meeting with someone who would personally design it and everything. She thought I was slipping out and fucking another woman.”
“Damn it,” I said.
“Look, you might be doing a really good job of hiding this from her. Or she might be so preoccupied with being pregnant that she doesn’t suspect you’re hiding anything anyway. All I’m saying is the couple of times I tried to surprise my wife with something, it went drastically wrong,” he said.
“Great. Well, talk to me about something positive. How’s Travis doing?”
“He’s doing good. I’m not sure what he’s doing with the money we’re paying him. He hasn’t bought himself any new clothes. But the ones he does come to work in have been laundered, so I know he’s at least cashing the checks somewhere,” he said.
“He attending his drug classes like he needs to be? No issues with him coming in high to work?”
“I thought he did once and had him drug tested, but it turned out the man was just tired. It’s why I think you should talk with him. I don’t know what he’s doing with that money, but I know he’s still living on the street. He’s not sleeping much, but I haven’t questioned him on it because the lack of sleep hasn’t affected his quality of work.”
“Thanks. I’ll go talk to him,” I said.
I headed back downstairs and slowly walked around the house. It was turning out to be perfect, and I couldn't wait to tell Hailey about it. I was questioning whether it should still be a surprise, but I figured with the project crew only being days away from finishing, it wouldn’t hurt anything. If Hailey’s distance was because she thought I was keeping something, and the distance returned this week, I would tell her. But nothing this morning indicated to me that she was worried about my leaving, so I tossed the worried thought from my mind.
“Travis! There you are.”
“Hello, Mr. Bryan. How are you?”
“I’m doing well. How are you?” I asked.
“Just making sure this paint doesn’t get on any of the crown moldings. It really is a pretty color. You picked it out well.”
“I’m going to be married to an artist. I better be good with color,” I said, chuckling. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Something wrong, Mr. Bryan?”
“I just want to check up with you. The foreman tells me you’ve been coming to work pretty tired,” I said.
“Has it been affecting my work? Is the foreman unhappy?” Travis asked.
“Not at all. In fact, despite how tired you’ve been, your work’s been great. I want to ask you something, though.”
“Shoot,” he said.
“You’re cashing the checks we’re gi
ving you, right? Because that’s money well-earned. It’s yours.”
“Depends on what you mean by cashing, I guess,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
I watched as Travis came down from the ladder before he drew in a deep breath.
“Mr. Bryan, when I lost my kids, I lost everything. Their mom took everything in the divorce and I spiraled, I guess. Drank through my money and got thrown out of the apartment I was holed up in during and after my divorce. I’m trying to save as much money from this job as I can so I can get myself a decent living space after. I’m trying to come in early and learn as many skills as I can so I can get another job after this one wraps up. I want to go back to court and fight for shared custody of my kids. I miss them, Mr. Bryan. But that’s going to take money, and it’s money I can’t spend right now unless I have to.”
My heart ached for this man as he told me his story.
“I’m taking half of what I earn and putting it into an account I can use, and I’m investing the other half. It’s not much of an investment, but it’s growing little by little. I want to prove I can be responsible with finances, that I can have the money to take care of my kids when they’re with me. But there’s a lot of stuff I have to do first like get my own place, find some steady work, have a reliable stream of income, and prove that my alcohol abuse isn’t an issue anymore. I know the courts will look into my finances and question every little transaction I make, so for now, I’m trying to let it ride, I guess.”
I was speechless at the man’s story. Investing money? After living on the streets and battling alcoholism? This man was the real deal. He was fucking serious, and anything I could do to help him was something I was more than willing to do.
“Well, feel free to apply for more jobs within the company. You’ve obviously acquired a great deal of skills, and Foreman Jack seems happy with your work. If you need a reference for any other jobs outside of the company, feel free to put both Jack and me down as references people can call,” I said.
“I appreciate it, Mr. Bryan. That means a lot.”
I took a step back and watched Travis climb back up the ladder. My heart felt full, knowing I could help a man like this. But my thoughts soon wandered off toward John. I wondered about Hailey’s guilt and how I could somehow convince her that John’s death hadn’t been her fault. I thought about all the times John did come visit me and how I could’ve done more to intervene. I was reminded of the struggles John eventually did pull himself out of. He had gone from a doped-up homeless man to a fledgling artist who was willing to give his own life to stop the very men who’d worked in the trade that had fueled his own addiction.
Then, my thoughts wandered to my mother.
I had no idea how I could get her to accept the truth about my brother’s death. I also had no idea why she was so resistant to it. It was like she almost preferred him being an overdose victim. It was like she was okay with writing off her son, the addict, but she couldn’t write off her son, the murder victim. Whether that cast a deeper shadow on the type of life she led or if she was really struggling deep down inside, no one knew. She wouldn’t let anyone close enough to see without lashing out in the most extreme of ways.
And even though I knew she was hurting deep down in the marrow of her soul, I couldn’t allow her to patronize and chastise my budding family the way she had been.
I had no idea how I was going to get her to accept the truth, but I knew it ultimately wasn’t up to me. We had proven to her that John wasn’t some loser who’d overdosed but that he was a victim. And in some weird way, that should have alleviated some of her pain and guilt. If there was a part of her that blamed her parenting style for how John turned out, then she no longer had to blame herself for his death.
I thought that would’ve brought her some comfort, but all it did was make her angry.
I wondered how long it would take her to overcome something like this. How long would it take her to take the one truth she believed and discard it for another? I had walked that bitter, despondent trail with my mother for years after John’s death over the four years of both my parents pushing him off to the side and not attending the memorial service I would throw in his honor. Was I going to have to push through four more years of torture and verbal abuse and ignorance to give my mother the time she needed to come to terms with this? My father had, and in some ways, it had released him from the guilt he was being swallowed by and from the nightmares I knew plagued him. It gave him a renewed chance to remember John the way he wanted instead of the way my mother had always forced on him.
But my mother was a piece of fucking work.
I was happy to give her whatever time she needed to cope. After all, she was going to be a grandmother. I wanted to give my unborn child a chance at a stable family. I had heard tales of how grandchildren could change even the coldest of elderly hearts, but what I wasn’t going to do was subject Hailey to her criticism, her empty threats, and her anger. Hailey didn’t deserve that kind of treatment nor did she need to be put underneath all the stress. So, if staying away from my mother was what it took to keep everyone safe, then that was what I would do.
But the sound of a paint can dropping ripped me from my thoughts.
Men began to shout as I turned my head toward the sound. I saw a ladder teetering in the other room, and I rushed across in that direction. I saw the man go down as the ladder fell on top of him, and I lunged for the metal frame pinning the man to the ground. Foreman Jack came running around the corner and headed straight for the worker on the floor, the gash in his head bleeding as it trickled down his skin. I set the ladder upright as Jack pulled out his phone to dial the emergency responders.
“Son. Son, can you hear me?” Jack asked.
The man nodded his head but winced in the process.
“Don’t move,” I said. “If you’re in pain, you could make it worse by moving.”
“Yes, I’d like to report an accident,” Jack said. “We need an emergency response crew at 1752 Court Circle Road. Yes, San Diego. Out toward the west end of the city. It’s a new build, yes.”
“How many fingers am I holding up?” I asked.
“Three,” the man said.
“Good. Does my voice sound like it’s echoing?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Can you move your fingers and toes?” I asked.
I watched his hands and feet as his boots and his fingertips moved.
“Okay. Anything feel cold? Anything going numb?” I asked.
“No, sir. But my neck’s cold.”
“Nothing numb in your neck?” I asked.
“No, sir. I’m sorry. I lost my balance, and I tried to overcorrect.”
“Just settle down. You’re going to be fine. I think it’s just a minor head injury, but you’ll need stitches.”
“Bryan, I’m so sorry. I was in the other room checking up on something,” Jack said.
“No need to be sorry. Injuries occur on worksites. It’s fine. I’m not upset. I just want to make sure we get this man in the hands of a doctor to make sure he’s fine. He’ll need stitches, though.”
“That mean I’m off the job?” the man asked.
“All depends on what the doctor says, but if he gives you any medication to take for this injury, then, yes, you’re going to have to be off the job. But don’t worry. You’ll be paid for the full day today, and your medical costs will be covered since you got injured on a jobsite, okay?”
“Got it,” the man said.
I could hear the sounds of sirens off in the distance, and it made me thankful I hadn’t told Hailey yet. If she knew someone had gotten hurt making this house for us, it would forever taint this expedition. I wiped at the blood trickling down the man’s head with an alcohol wipe as the ambulance grew closer and closer, and then I backed up once the emergency crew came barging through the front door.
There was nothing more I could do here except help Foreman Jack get everything back on track, and th
en I needed to run through somewhere and get Hailey and me some lunch.
She was expecting food, and I needed to make sure my mind was settled before I got home.
Chapter 10
Hailey
I was just coming downstairs when I heard Bryan’s truck pull up. I made my way into the kitchen and poured myself some chocolate milk. I had been craving it all night, and my mouth was watering just thinking about it, but the moment Bryan walked through the door, my attention was turned elsewhere.
Bryan had blood on his fingertips.
I set the mug of chocolate milk down and went waddling for him. He looked down at his hands and sighed as he held the bag of food in front of him. I ran my hand down his arm to feel for any injuries, the air silent between us as I studied him.
“What happened?” I asked. “Did you get hurt?”
I took in the blood underneath his fingernails as my knees grew weak.
“Just an accident at the foundation site,” Bryan said. “Nothing serious.”
“You have blood under your fingernails. I’d say that’s serious.”
“Someone fell off a ladder,” he said.
“A ladder while pouring foundation?” I asked.
“Foundation work wasn’t the only thing being done today. It was just the biggest thing.”
That didn’t seem right. I’d been with Bryan long enough to know how basic construction worked. Unless there were other projects he went to check up on today, ladders weren’t necessary while pouring concrete. I looked up at him and gave him a quizzical look as I led him into the kitchen. I turned on the warm water and went to clean off his hands, but he yanked them from me and did it himself.
“I’m just trying to help you,” I said.
“You don’t have to clean someone else’s blood off me. I’ve got it,” Bryan said.