“Why don’t you go see it then?”
She sighed. “I should have gone before I married Jeff. Now we’re just so busy between his job and the four kids. Summer is when Jeff’s busiest at work, he can pull eighty hour weeks for three months, and the kids are in school the rest of the year.”
“All you need is a long weekend,” Paul insisted.
“Oh, we can’t afford the extra gas and the hotel and the eating out.” She took a quick sip of her coffee. “But it’s a lovely dream, living in a nice little house in a quiet suburb with the excitement of the city on your doorstep. Where in the city do you live?”
“In a walk-up,” Paul said. “We needed something central since we all work.”
“Of course. Even that wouldn’t be so bad. I could live like that, you know. All the people, all the different faces every day, it just gets so quiet around here, like there’s no one to talk to. And what would be the point, they all know everything about everybody anyway.”
Paul frowned a little, still thinking about her comment about the unreachable cost of a long-weekend getaway. “What does your husband do?”
“Jeff drives a truck for the lumber company.” Her voice had lost its excitement almost instantly.
“If you want to get to the city you should talk to him about switching jobs, they always need truck drivers for hauling freight and the pay is decent.”
“No,” she said, rubbing her arm. It wasn’t exactly an ‘isn’t it chilly in here’ sort of movement, more of a subconscious response to a stray thought. “Jeff doesn’t like it when I talk about moving away from Barnes Lake.” She stopped staring out the window and met his eyes again. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but the only reason Jeff keeps his license is because the local police and the guy at the insurance place all know that without that driver’s license the kids and I would starve. If we moved to the city he wouldn’t be driving for long.”
He studied her then, seeing her not as he remembered her at sixteen or as an old acquaintance who had inconvenienced him, but as a woman scared and alone and trapped. He recognized the look in her eyes, the silent pleading for someone to notice. He gave his head a shake. “I know a place where you and the kids could stay for a while, if you really wanted to leave,” he said, not wanting to outright accuse Jeff of abusing her without more solid evidence than a haunted look.
She shook her head. “No, thank-you,” she said, and stood. “I should go, the kids are with my neighbor and she can’t watch them for long. It’s her hip, you know. The little one, Rebecca, it’s so hard bending down to her level all the time. Thanks for the coffee. It was good to see you.” She rushed out, hurrying off down the street towards the trailer park, without waiting for him to say good-bye, or giving him the chance to stop her.
The waiter came by to refill Paul’s cup. “Strange to see Mrs. Bryant out socializing,” the man said and collected Shirley’s abandoned cup, seemingly ignoring how much coffee remained. “She must think highly of you to come out of hiding.”
“Why is she hiding?” Paul asked.
The man shrugged. “All I know is that I haven’t seen Shirley Bryant in here without her husband since before they were married. Did you want anything with that coffee?”
“Could you make a half dozen think turkey and tomato sandwiches to go?”
His eyes went wide. “Half a dozen?”
“I have two younger brothers to feed. And can you make them thick?”
He nodded, smiled a little. “Sure. Six turkey and tomato, extra thick, coming up.”
Paul sat back to enjoy his coffee while he waited for the sandwiches to be ready and for everything he’d just learned to start making sense.
~~~
When Paul got back to the house, the porch and the truck were gone. Since his coffee date had ended early he wasn’t surprised his brothers were still out at the dump and since it was still a little early for lunch, he left the sandwiches on the kitchen table and set about dismantling the molding around the second story windows so the panes could be removed. He heard the side door open but by the time he got downstairs Joe was halfway into his first sandwich.
“What did you do with Matt?” Paul asked, stopping at the sink to wash plaster dust from his hands.
“I dropped him at the garage. He was meeting Mr. Jayson for lunch. I guess he thought that since you went out for coffee he could abandon us during lunch.”
Paul shrugged. “Why not? It’s not like I’m paying the two of you.”
“About that, I’d like to renegotiate my contract, maybe get a better wage.”
“There’s no way I’m negotiating with you,” Paul chuckled. “Besides, you don’t have a contract.”
Joe gave his head a shake. “Serves me right for not going through a union.” They ate in companionable silence until Joe had finished his first sandwich. “How was coffee?”
“The diner always did make a good strong cup of coffee,” Paul replied. Joe only glared so Paul sighed and said, “It was a little awkward, actually. I’ve been gone nine years, I have nothing in common with her, and we dated, briefly.”
“It’s more than that.”
“She looked at me and I saw the same wounded look that Mom had sometimes when she let her guard down.” Paul wasn’t sure why he had said anything about it at all, it had only been a look, but somehow he ended up telling Joe things like this all the time.
“You’re sure? You think her husband is hitting her?”
Paul shrugged. “It was a look. Maybe it was her wanting to get out of Barnes Lake and not her wanting to get out of her marriage. When I told her I knew a place she and the kids could go she turned me down. Is that fear? Or am I reading into it too much because of Mom?”
It was Joe’s turn to shrug. “You could ask around. Maybe somebody knows something.”
“Right, like they knew all about Mom too. Do you think they’d know and not do anything?”
“Paul, most of the people who live here are stuck here. They don’t know about shelters in the city, I mean they know they exist but not how to get a hold of one. And if Shirley is denying everything, it makes it harder for people to help her, whatever the problem is.”
“She has four kids, Joe. The older ones are old enough that if her husband is abusive, he’ll have started hitting them now too. The youngest is a girl, what happens when he starts hitting her?”
“If he starts hitting her, Paul. Like you said, maybe she’s just longing for a better life.” Joe grabbed one of Matt’s sandwiches and took a huge bite, pausing to chew before continuing. “I mean the two of you dated, maybe you’ve got her wondering if she could have been the wife of a successful contractor in the city instead of the wife of a nobody truck driver.”
Paul frowned. “How did you know he drove a truck?”
“This is a small town. Mrs. Barbour knows everything and she likes to talk.”
“When you’re done eating you can start pulling off the molding around the windows down here. I’ve already started upstairs. And save one of those sandwiches for a snack later. Remember, the new windows will be here tomorrow, the porch set us behind a little.”
Joe saluted. “Yes sir, Mr. Boss Man.”
~~~
When Matt returned, hands jammed deep in his pockets signaling to the few who knew him well that he was deep in thought, they got back to work on the windows. Any attempt from either Paul or Joe to engage him in conversation about his lunch meeting was met with short and unenlightening answers, though he was his usual, conversational self on all other topics. Together they made good progress and Paul, who was a demanding boss, even let them go back to the bed and breakfast on time for dinner, even though he had threatened to keep them on site until nightfall.
Mrs. Barbour was just setting the table when they came in and she popped out of the dining room at the sound of the front door’s chime. “Oh, would you look at the three of you. Well, you have a quick minute to wash up before we eat.”
“Ye
s, Ma’am!” Joe said and took the stairs two at a time.
“Is that boy ever serious?” Mrs. Barbour asked, shaking her head and smiling.
“We’re still waiting,” Matt replied. “Mr. Jayson says your car will be ready tomorrow.”
“Oh good. I have grocery shopping to do. Your brother is going to eat me out of house and home.”
“We know the feeling well,” Matt said and headed up the stairs. But Paul hesitated in the lobby, shifting his weight from one foot to the other until Mrs. Barbour’s curious stare forced him to make up his mind and speak.
“Is Angie home?” he asked.
For a moment Mrs. Barbour’s demeanor shifted to cold and Paul was afraid she wouldn’t answer. Then she relaxed and her eyes softened again and she said, “Angie’s working late. Bill was going to run her down some dinner after we’d eaten. Why don’t you take it to her?”
“Thank-you, Mrs. Barbour. I’d better go wash.”
“And you can all bring down your dirty clothes. There’s a laundry mat round back of the stairs,” she called after him then returned to setting the table with a shake of her head.
~~~
Over the last few days Paul had figured out that Mrs. Barbour loved to cook, and the more people she could feed the happier she was. When there were no guests at the bed and breakfast, which was often, she cooked for the church functions, of which there were many. Tonight’s supper was simple, hamburgers and a salad, something even Paul could cook. But Paul would have bought the patties from the grocery store’s freezer section and the salad pre-cut in a bag. These were thick, richly seasoned, handmade patties and a salad with shaved carrots, sesame seeds, and mandarin oranges mixed in.
Even after three sandwiches for lunch and an extra sandwich for mid-afternoon snack, Joe still had four burgers for supper. When Paul, who politely stopped at two, said, “You’re going to gain ten pounds before we go home,” Mrs. Barbour had chided him.
“Your brother is a growing boy who appreciates good food. If you’re done, Angie’s dinner is on the kitchen counter.”
Mr. Barbour looked up from separating the sesame seeds out of his salad. “I thought you wanted me to do that. Ow. Uh, of course I do have that, er, thing to do. Tonight. Right now.”
Paul already had the food and was on his way to the door. “I’ll be back later,” he called.
Mr. Barbour scowled at Joe. “It’s rude to kick your elders.”
“You shouldn’t have said anything in the first place,” Joe shot back.
“But did you have to kick me so hard?”
~~~
Angie had been working ten hours in her little closet of an office at city hall. The budget that the mayor and his city council had provided her wouldn’t cover even half the work they wanted done no matter how she juggled the numbers. She’d spent hours chasing estimates and prices over the phone only to find that each number was too high for her meager funds. It was too hot in her office and the mayor himself had just come in to inform her that there would be a council meeting in three weeks and she had to have all the plans and contracts and numbers in place by then. The unspoken ‘or else’ about her continued job security had been very obvious and since no one was buying houses in town she desperately needed the job with city council. She’d agreed to the meeting and called her mom to have dinner delivered.
The only saving grace about her office, and right now her whole job, was the window. It didn’t open but the evening sunlight streamed in and she stared at the birds hopping about on the lawn without really seeing them, on the verge of crying. When she heard the knock at her door she turned expecting a home cooked meal and a sympathetic ear, namely her father. Instead she saw Paul holding a familiar package of food. The urge to break down crying grew stronger.
“Hi Angie,” he said. “Where did you want this?”
Exasperated, she pointed to her desk, the only flat surface in the room besides the top of the filing cabinet in the corner but that stood five feet tall, easily, and was stacked with folders.
He smiled, barely, and brought in the large paper bag. It looked like it contained Chinese take-out for four. “Angie, look, I know I was a jerk. Just because I disagree doesn’t give me the right to be rude and it certainly doesn’t give me the right to step all over your goals, or dreams, or … whatever.”
“How long have you been rehearsing that?” she snapped, too angry to believe him.
He ran his fingers through his hair and she realized he now wore it longer than he had as a teen and it softened his face. “All the way here,” he replied. “And most of the way through dinner. Was it that obvious?”
He looks awkward! I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s either cocky or angry, but never unsure of himself. That realization weakened her resolve to ignore him completely and she said, “I guess I’m not used to you apologizing. Thanks for bringing me dinner.”
“I’m not sure what it is. We just had burgers and a salad but there seems to be a lot more in there.”
“If my mom premade the burgers with all the toppings they’d be soggy by the time they got here and I hate soggy buns, and soggy salad. So my mom packs it all separate and I have to put it together myself.”
“I never knew that about you.” He was trying to think back to what she brought for lunch back in school, and how it was packed, but he had no memory of it.
“Yeah, well you don’t know everything.” The words came out harsher than intended but she pretended not to notice and started unpacking her supper.
“I never said I knew everything!”
She could hear the familiar snarl rising in his voice. And then he stopped short and took a deep breath. She looked up at him, shocked that he wasn’t ranting at her.
He started again, his voice reasonable this time. “You’re right, Angie. I’ve been gone nine years. I don’t know anything about Barnes Lake anymore. But I’d like to get to know you.”
She stared at him, mouth agape. This was not what she’d expected when he had knocked on her door. She had wanted her father so she could vent but she would have settled for a good fight with Paul to let off some steam. Instead she had gotten an apology and, well, she wasn’t sure what to think of that last part yet.
When she didn’t respond he took another deep breath and said, “Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow? I want to make things right.”
She gestured at the papers spread across her desk, the ones she was about to eat over, and said, “Paul, I’m swamped. I don’t know …”
“I don’t mind if you talk about work. Maybe I can help.”
“Right, like you actually want to help fix up this town.”
“I don’t. But I’m a contractor who specializes in the restoration of old buildings. I’m supposed to deal with the ‘is it possible’ and the ‘how much it will cost’ not the ‘should it be done’. That last part is up to the client. I forgot that earlier, but I won’t forget it tomorrow.”
“Alright,” she said. “I’ll go out to dinner tomorrow.”
He smiled. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He slipped away leaving her feeling bewildered.
~~~
Paul gently and reluctantly removed his hand from hers and topped up their glasses with wine from the bottle that the waiter had left at their table. Angie gave her head a mental shake and she forced what she hoped was a cheerful smile. “So, what have you been doing for nine years?”
“Working,” he replied. He paused to savor a mouthful of wine then continued. “At first it was just working to survive, working to get us a better apartment, you know, making ends meet. Joe worked the first year for a small accounting firm, basically as an office monkey, while Matt finished getting his mechanics papers.”
“Right,” Angie murmured. “He started that work-to-learn program with Mr. Jayson before you guys left.”
“Apprenticeship,” he corrected. “Yeah, he only had a year left. Once he was working full time and I’d gotten my promotio
n we were able to get a decent place and we started getting money away for Joe to go to school. He’s the book smart one of the family and we knew we had to get him through a university degree.”
“You really love him, don’t you?”
“Joe? I’m going to strangle him before he’s thirty but yeah, I love him. And Matt too. We wouldn’t have survived without each other.” He fiddled with his wine glass a moment then smiled at her. “We’re still grateful he went into business and not psychology or he’d be insufferable.”
Angie rolled her eyes. “I can just imagine. Does he eat that much at home?”
“No, but only because none us of can cook beyond the basics. He hasn’t had what your mother would call ‘real food’ in nine years.”
“What? All you eat is take-out?”
“Hey! Give me a little more credit than that!” He gestured to the other tables around them. “This is a lot nicer than take-out, after all.”
She laughed loud enough to draw a few glances from other patrons but they all smiled in that way that said, ‘oh, aren’t they a sweet couple’ and went back to their meals. “How did you get to own your own company?”
“That’s Joe’s fault. The first thing he did when he graduated with that business degree of his was draw up the plans for a contractor’s company and put my name on the plans as owner and operator. I made the mistake of humoring him and the next thing I know, I’m at the bank signing papers and I suddenly have to interview guys who want to work in construction.”
“Wow.” She leaned back as the waiter brought out their meals. A veal parmesan on fettuccini noodles with carrots in some sort of sauce for him and, to Paul’s surprise, a steak, rare, with a baked potato and mixed vegetables for her. She cut a chunk off her steak, took a long time chewing it, and smiled. “Almost as good as my mom’s.”
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