Fix Her Up (The Fix Book 1)

by Carey Heywood

“Everyday is a weekend for me,” he jokes.

  Ever since he retired that’s been his favorite joke to tell.

  “Hey, is it cold up there?”

  I shake my head and start to imagine what color curtains would look good in here. “Dad, it’s close to eighty today. It won’t get super cold until winter.”

  Before he can bring up the snow and all of his concerns surrounding it, I ask, “Did you and mom do anything fun today?”

  “Yeah, we went to see that movie Clint Eastwood directed. It made her cry but it was a damn good movie.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out for it. But hey, I think my mattress is full and it’s been a long day. I’m going to make my soup and then crash. Is it okay if we talk more tomorrow?”

  He pulls in a breath. “Of course darling. You eat your soup and get a good night of sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  “Thanks Dad. I love you and give Mom a hug from me and tell her I love her too.” My words come out in a rush, hoping they don’t hear the emotion behind them.

  “Okay Finny. I will. I love you too. You call us whenever you want,” he says quietly.

  I hate how sad he sounds. I can hear how much they miss me and it hits me harder than I expected it to.

  “I promise I’ll call, Dad.”

  After the call ends, I stare at my phone until the image assigned to their contact fades away as the screen dims. It’s a picture of the two of them, at one of their many barbeques. Ten or so years ago my dad had a pool put in the backyard and their house has been party central ever since.

  My mom has two sisters who also live in or near Springfield. My aunt Jane is divorced but her divorce didn’t happen until my cousin Heather was in tenth grade. My aunt Charlotte is still married. They all love to come hang out by the pool while my dad mans the grill.

  It’s going to be weird knowing they’re all there, without me. I taught my mom how to video chat with her cell before I left, but it won’t be the same.

  For the first time, my certainty in needing to make this move and start over wavers. Shaking off my doubts, I unplug the air mattress from the wall. It would suck if I popped it by overfilling it. Then I grab my soup, relieved to see it has a pull open top so I don’t have to hunt for my can opener. Can in hand, I stop, realizing I can’t microwave it.

  For some reason, partly since the tears were already so close to falling on their own, this is why I start crying. Sure, it’s less about the bowl and spoon and more about missing my family but the tears fall all the same.

  Grateful for my tissues, I blow my nose, sit on my air mattress, and have a good cry. About thirty or so minutes later I’m still hungry. Unpacking enough for soup and drug store wine, I eat. It may have been the most satisfying meal of my life.

  Since Allen left me, I’ve had many meals. This one is different. It’s a meal in a place that’s all mine, a home he would never have approved of. In its current state, that is. He would hate everything about this place. Knowing that makes me love it even more.

  My life was changing and this, right here, was the first step.

  2

  Noah

  “Merry Christmas,” I mutter, dropping my bag in Gideon’s lap.

  I was surprised to see his truck in the parking lot of our family hardware store and figured I could save a trip to his place by giving them to him now.

  “It’s July,” he argues, looking into the bag. Once he sees what’s inside he squeezes the plastic bag shut with a groan. “You need to stop buying me condoms.”

  I shake my head, staring down at my younger brother with a grin. “Nope, this is my gift to the world.”

  “What’s that?” Our dad asks as he walks in from the back.

  “Nothing,” Gideon grumbles, taking the bag and leaving.

  Out of my three brothers, Gideon and I look the most alike. With light brown hair and blue eyes, there are times that looking at him feels like looking in a mirror. The biggest difference between us is the three inches I have on him, and the fact that I’m not trying to fuck every woman I see.

  As soon as the door closes behind him, Dad turns to me. “What’s gotten into him?”

  “Noah bought him condoms again,” Abby chirps, my ever-helpful little sister.

  Dad coughs to cover his laugh. Gideon, my youngest brother is single-handedly trying to sleep his way through every single, and a couple not, woman in town.

  “Someday some girl is going to turn his world upside down,” Dad says under his breath.

  Abby passes my dad a mug. “Want a bagel?”

  He peeks into the bakery bag she brought. “Is the Pope catholic?” He jokes, and then asks, “You get any of those blueberry ones?”

  Abby smirks at me before reaching into the bag for a blueberry bagel. They’re his favorite and since Abby started stopping by the store every Monday morning with breakfast, she has always brought him one.

  “You’re a good girl.” He smiles brightly at his only daughter when she passes it to him.

  “Thanks Dad,” she replies with a grin.

  While people can tell we’re siblings, Abby, along with my oldest brother, Eli, and younger brother, Asher, all have dad’s dark brown hair, whereas Gideon and I favor our mother’s coloring.

  The store phone starts ringing and I frown when I see dad set down his bagel to answer it.

  “Where’s Eli?” I ask Abby.

  She tilts her head toward our dad and motions for me to follow her.

  “What’s with all the secrecy?” I ask once we’re in the paint aisle.

  “He and Brooke are seeing a marriage counselor.”

  My brows lift. “Shit. Things that bad?”

  “Don’t say a word.” She points a finger at me in warning. “Brooke and the kids moved in with her sister last week.”

  “Jesus. I can’t believe Eli didn’t tell me,” I grumble angrily.

  My little sister folds her arms across her chest and gives me a look. Eli and I can butt heads from time to time but I never thought he would keep something like this from me.

  “Did he tell you?” I ask.

  She shakes her head and for some reason that makes me feel better.

  “Did he tell anyone?” I clarify.

  She frowns. “Maybe Gideon since he said he was going to help Dad cover the store this morning, but that doesn’t mean he told him where he was going.”

  “So does anyone know other than you?”

  She turns to look toward the flat enamel paint cans. “You know how he is.”

  Can’t argue that. Eli, our older brother, is a perfectionist and a giant pain in my ass. The last thing he’d want is for anyone to know he and Brooke were having marriage problems.

  “How’s he going to swing nobody noticing they’re separated?”

  With the whole family living so close, there’s never a shortage of gatherings. Whether it’s birthday parties, one of the kids’ games or a random family dinner, we see each other plenty.

  “Brooke has agreed to keep things under wraps as long as they’re in counseling,” she replies, her eyes returning to mine.

  “Mom will flip if she finds out.”

  “Where’d you two go?” our dad calls out.

  “Promise you won’t say anything,” Abby whispers.

  I nod. “We’re here old man.”

  Abby walks out of the aisle first and heads straight for my dad. She leans over the counter to press a kiss to his cheek and then gives me a wave. “I have to head to the office.”

  “See you later kiddo,” Dad mutters.

  She punches Gideon affectionately as she passes him on her way out the door. Since he no longer has the bag, I’m guessing he put them in his truck when he left.

  After watching Abby walk out the door, Dad shifts his focus to me. “What are you still doing here?”

  “You trying to get me out of here so you can eat my bagel?” I joke.

  He fakes a grab at the bagel bag with a laugh.

  “And you,�
� he looks to Gideon, “you’re never here this early.”

  Gideon shrugs, his light brown hair falling into his eyes. “Eli had a thing. Asked me to cover.” He looks at me. “If I knew you’d be here I’d still be in bed.”

  I grab a bagel. “I’m just here for the food.”

  “Your boys working today?”

  I nod my head. “They are. I’m meeting them over at the job site in a few. Abby texted me so I figured I’d stop by for a free breakfast.”

  “I thought you were getting free breakfast from that little bakery on Fifth,” Gideon replies, throwing me under the bus.

  “What’s this?” Dad asks.

  I glare at Gideon. “I was seeing the woman who owns that bakery. It’s over now.”

  “Is Eli the only one who’s going to give me grandchildren?” My dad grumbles.

  Both Gideon and I groan.

  “Well this was fun,” I say, taking my bagel and moving toward the door.

  “I was only giving you a hard time. I wasn’t trying to run you off.”

  I wave him off. “It’s cool. It’s cool. I still gotta go.”

  “Are you coming to dinner Friday?” My dad calls after me.

  “I’ll be there,” I reply, before pushing open the door.

  I finish my bagel in my truck, my eyes on the entrance. Thompson Hardware has been in my family for three generations. This place is as much of a home to me as the house I grew up in.

  I got my first tool belt before I started elementary school. It’s no surprise I still wear one. In fact, growing up a Thompson rubbed off on all of us when it came to what careers we all chose.

  Eli’s running the store now since dad retired, I’m a building contractor, Asher’s a carpenter, Abby’s a Realtor, and the baby, Gideon, is a landscape architect. I’m sure if one of us had wanted to help run the store Eli would have attempted to share control. Thankfully, since Eli would have failed miserably at that, our interests led us to carving out our own professions.

  My team is working on the roof of a colonial style house not far from the store. A tree limb fell during a storm. Luckily, the homeowners were insured. After they finish the roof, my team is going to do some interior work to spots where there was water damage.

  “Hey Noah,” Jon calls from the front yard once I park.

  Jon has been with me since the beginning. He manages the work sites and I handle the estimates and business side of the work, not that I don’t have the skills to be right there with him at each job site. I’m just better than Jon is at the business side.

  “How’s it going?” I ask.

  He looks toward the roof. “Shingles should be all up today. The water damage on the inside is worse than we thought. Mrs. Brown is home now. She’d like to talk to you about us replacing the subfloor and putting in new hardwoods on the second level.”

  “On it,” I reply and head to the front door.

  How she can hear my knocking over the shingles going in, I’m not sure.

  “Hi Noah. How are you?”

  “Good Mrs. Brown. Thank you. Hopefully the noise isn’t too disruptive.”

  Her gaze shifts upward. “Better the noise than a hole in the roof.”

  I nod. “Jon mentioned you’d like to discuss us working on your floors.”

  She motions for me to follow her and I spend the next hour taking measurements as she points out the places the water damaged the floor. I write up a quote based on the labor and basic materials with a second quote for the higher end wood flooring she wanted. She’ll need to have the additional damage inspected by her insurance guy. She’s a good customer and will not only pay her invoices on time, but she’ll also tell all of her friends if we do a good job. Since we do kickass work, she’ll definitely tell her friends.

  After meeting with Mrs. Brown, I head back to the front yard to Jon. “We’ll have to wait to hear if her insurance company will approve the work. Even if they don’t, I think she’ll still do the floors since insurance covered the cost of the roof.”

  Jon nods. “Sounds good. What’s the schedule look like for next week?”

  I have an electronic planner app on my phone that syncs with his. Problem is, he never looks at it. Knowing that, I also print off a hardcopy showing the next two weeks of work and give it to him every Monday.

  We all have our strengths and weaknesses, Jon and I have a great partnership because we balance each other out.

  “I’m off to the Johnson’s to take some measurements. They want a quote on a three-season screened-in porch.”

  “If we finish the roof today, we’re going to start on the ceiling damage. I’ll text you to let you know far along we get before we quit for the day.”

  I lift my chin in farewell and walk to my truck. The Johnson’s place is clear on the other side of Woodlake. It’s a decent drive, one long enough to give me time to think.

  The news that Eli is having marriage problems is not good. Their kids, Ethan, Aiden, and Connie are dealing with this crap and I don’t even know if they have talked to anyone about it.

  His wife, Brooke, is nice enough. Other than knowing her through Eli and exchanging small talk with her at family events, I’m not tight with her. She’s a good mom, and a cool person. Hell, she’s had to be a saint to put up with Eli’s shit.

  What I don’t know is, how kindly she’d take to me calling her out of the blue to check on their kids. Eli’s a pain in the ass for not telling us what’s going on and I’m a shit brother for not noticing, and an even shittier uncle for not being there for my niece and nephews.

  Thing is, Eli is the only one of us who’s proved settling down and staying that way is possible. I date, but none of the women interest me long term. All Gideon does is dick around, Asher’s turning into a fucking hermit and Abby doesn’t date at all.

  After this appointment, I’ll call Abby. She’s the only one who seems to know what’s going on.

  I rush through my meeting with Mrs. Johnson. I was expecting her husband to be there, but his presence may have interrupted her attempts to put her hand in my pants. I might not have many rules when it comes to the women I see, but not being married is one of them.

  If she goes with our estimate, I’ll need to discuss with Jon if it will be worth it to take the job. I can steer clear of the worksite but I’m not sure it would matter. It’s possible she could harass Jon or our crew while they work. That could cause delays, not to mention the potential concerns of an irate husband if he found out what his wife was up to.

  Not wanting to call Abby from Mrs. Johnson’s house, I wait until I’m at a restaurant nearby to do it.

  She’s normally with clients whenever I call, so when she answers, I’m pleasantly surprised.

  “Hey Noah, what’s up?”

  “I was thinking about what you said this morning and wanted to talk about it.”

  “I figured,” she murmurs. “Where are you?”

  “Winston’s.”

  “Have you ordered yet?” She asks, and then adds, “I’m not far. I can meet you for lunch.”

  “I’m still sitting in my truck.”

  “Go get us a table. I’ll be there in five,” she orders.

  I smile at her words. I’m seven years older, I’m close to a foot taller than her, and weigh at least fifty pounds more than she does, but she bosses me around like a champ. I’m seated by the time she shows. She reaches out, giving my shoulder a squeeze before sliding into the booth across from me.

  “Have they taken drink orders yet?”

  Her greeting is rushed in a way that makes me pause. When I saw her this morning she seemed fine. Now, there’s tension blanketing her usual sunny mood.

  I shake my head. “Everything okay?”

  She starts digging in her giant purse and pulls out a file. “I need to stop by a house I sold to pick up my lockbox. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. The place is a heap and the woman who bought it is in way over her head. She’s planning to do all the work herself. Maybe y
ou can talk some sense into her.”

  She slides the folder across the table to me. I open it to see she wasn’t exaggerating when she said the house was a heap.

  “Has it been condemned?” I ask, looking at the pictures.

  Abby cringes, shaking her head then her face brightens and she says, “She did have the place rewired before she moved in.”

  I let out a breath. “Thank God for that. Does the furnace work?”

  “An inspection was done. It works, but barely. I doubt it will make it through the winter,” she winces.

  “She isn’t planning on living there during the remodel, is she?” I ask.

  Her face falls and her mouth stays clamped shut. My little sister has never been known to hold her tongue.

  “At least tell me this isn’t her first remodel,” I push.

  Her gaze skitters away.

  “Abby,” I warn and her eyes move back to me.

  Her hands come up, to punctuate as she explains, “I’ve only ever talked to her over the phone. From what I know, she made a killing off the place she sold in Texas. I don’t know what’s bringing her out here but it didn’t sound like she’s lived anywhere else.

  What I do know is, she bought it outright, no financing, and she had an inspection done. The place was sold as is, but the inspector said the foundation looked good. Other than that, it’s in crap shape. So she’s out here, possibly all alone and could maybe use a good contractor.”

  I blink at her then I look back at the file, memorizing the address. Yes, I’m a business man, but that doesn’t mean I’m heartless.

  I flip the folder shut and slide it back to her. “I can’t look at it anymore if I don’t want to lose my appetite. When are you going over?”

  “Ha-ha,” she grumbles, taking it and pushing it back into her purse. “I planned on heading there from here.”

  “I have an appointment. I might be able to swing by later today or tomorrow. Or, since you’re going you can just give her one of my cards.”

  “You should go by and meet her. If she decides to hire someone it’ll help if you’ve already had a conversation and seen the place in person.”

  Our server comes and takes our drink and food orders.