by Hart, Cary
The phone blinks: Mom Calling
“Hey Mom,” I sigh into the phone.
“That’s no way to greet your momma.” She chuckles. “Hard day at work?”
“Actually, it just started.”
“Is everything okay?” She sounds concerned.
“Yeah, it is.” I walk down the steps and take a seat on one. “Listen, Mom, I know why you’re calling and I’ll be there.”
“Oh good. I was so afraid you wouldn’t show. Jimmy misses having you come around,” she says of my stepdad, who has been nothing but a great father to me and my stepbrother Jack.
My father, William “Woody” Lewis, died after an accident at work. He was helping unload some wood at his lumber yard but the employee using the forklift didn’t see him and smacked him in the head with a lift full of two by fours. He was knocked unconscious, and died later at the hospital from an epidural hematoma and swelling in his brain. My mom was the one who had to make the decision to pull the plug. They could have kept him on machines, but he was basically braindead. Any hope of having a life, gone. They said if he would have been wearing his hardhat, he would have survived.
My mom, Brenda, ended up in grief counseling a year later, where she met Jimmy Bennett, whose wife died of stage 4 breast cancer around the same time my dad died.
“I know Mom. I’ll be there. Listen, I have to go. Drew needs help measuring something.”
“Okay, son. Make sure everyone is wearing a hardhat.”
Standing up, I look around and see the crew is following orders, even Lee.
“Always. Love you,” I reassure her.
“You too.”
I press end and stuff the phone in my back pocket.
“I’m curious, what do you need to help me measure?” Drew comes out of nowhere.
“Nothing. Just needed to get off the phone. My mom was hounding me about the party again.” I stride past him, to the white board. “Where we at?”
“Didn’t sound like she was hounding you.”
“OK, so I didn’t really give her the chance. I gave her what she wanted before she even asked.”
“I see.” Drew pulls out his phone and smiles. “Aubrey is showing the girls how to make tacos tonight if you want to come over for dinner.”
“Sounds like a family night.” I want more than anything to say yes, to experience what Drew gets every single day, but it’s not in the cards for me. “I’ll pass. Plus, I have to help at the lumber yard when I leave here.”
When my dad died, he left the business to my mom until I turned of age. My dad had a staff that had been with him for years, and I didn’t want to take that away from them. So, I help when needed.
“Maybe another time.” He punches out a text to Aubrey.
“Yeah, maybe another time…” I trail off, trying to push back the thoughts of what could have been.
Nina
“Niki, do you think we could skip lunch and just head home?” I hurry past her to stop her from going in. “I’m just not feeling it.”
“Not a chance. You’ve been not feeling it for three weeks.” Her face softens a touch, eyes filled with worry.
“I’m fine. I promise. I just...” How do I tell her that what I saw today bothered me? “I need time. Okay?”
“How can you say that? You’ve had three weeks.” She reaches around me and grabs the door. “You are going to walk in there and eat one of the best damn lunches you have had in a long time.”
“Okay, fine.” I walk past her and into one of the most unique bars I have ever seen. It’s a modern take on your local, everyday bar. From the outside, you can see two levels, but when I get inside I see there’s also a basement that houses a stage and dance floor.
“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” A blonde wearing a tight black dress walks up. “Hi, I’m Cindy.” She holds out her hand. “I’m the lead bartender.”
Taking her hand, I give it a little shake. “I’m Nina, Niki’s sister.”
“I gathered. You two look almost identical.”
“How big is this place?” I walk over to the stairs, which are marked “VIP.”
“It’s crazy huge. That top section is the VIP area.” She walks over to the ropes. “Wanna see the spotlights?”
“Niki told me about those.” I look over my shoulder and see her and Gavin watching me. Taking that as my cue, I point over to them. “Looks like they are waiting on me. Maybe some other time.”
“Nice to meet you, Nina.”
We both smile, then she heads to the bar and I find Niki and Gavin.
“How do you like the place?” Gavin gets up to pull a chair out, waiting for me to take a seat before he sits back down, pulling Niki’s chair closer to him.
“If you want to be that close, maybe you should invest in benches?” She giggles as he places a soft kiss on her neck.
“Done.” He snakes his hand through her long, dark hair, bringing her head closer, giving her a tender kiss on the top on her hairline before releasing her. A sigh escapes her parted lips.
I had that once.
A whisper of a touch, causing your skin to prickle. Words that melted your soul. A stare so intense you could see forever within it.
I guess that’s why I stayed with Brandon longer than I should have, waiting for the guy I fell in love with to return. I thought if I could just be enough, he would change.
Lies.
He is who he is and nothing was ever going to change. All the signs were there. His touch, demanding. Words, controlling. Gaze, suspicious.
“Nina?” Niki reaches across the table, placing a hand over mine. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking about what I was going to eat.” I give them both a wide smile. “The food smells delicious.” I hold the menu up to hide the tears that threaten to fall.
Seeing them...that’s how it should be. Protective, not possessive.
“Hey Gavin?” I hear Cindy behind me. “Jake’s on the phone. He said he needs to speak to you.”
“Can I call him back after lunch?” Gavin seems concerned, but as much as I want to look over the menu at him, I keep to myself.
“I don’t think so. He seems off. You better talk to him.”
She leaves, the clicking of her heels fading.
“It’s fine. Just make sure he’s okay.”
“Go ahead and order. I’ll join you as soon as I can.” Gavin quickly gets up, scooting his chair back, scraping it against the floor.
I wince.
“Nina, you can stop pretending to look at the menu now.” I see her fingers over the top before the menu disappears.
“What do you want me to say?” I lean forward and look around. “That my boyfriend beat my ass one too many times and I thought if I stayed he would kill me? Cause I think that’s pretty obvious.”
“Nina…that’s not what I meant and you know it.” She’s the one looking around now, but apparently, it’s still early enough that the lunch crowd hasn’t made it in yet.
“I don’t know.”
I do.
She wants to know how I’m doing. If I’m thinking about going back, because that’s what women like me do, right? Go back to try and save them. Been there and done that. I tried. Over and over and over again.
Feeling a little irritated, I huff out my acceptance that we aren’t leaving until my big sis has some answers. “How about you ask me questions and I’ll answer what I can?”
“How long?”
“It’s kind of hard to tell…” I try to recall the moment I realized things changed, but it was so gradual, it’s difficult to pinpoint. “But I guess when he suggested I drop out of nursing school. About a year after we were together.”
“I thought you decided it wasn’t for you?”
“Well, it really wasn’t. I guess that’s why I thought, ‘Why not?’” The memory is so vivid. Life changing. Step one of stripping me of my independence.
“Nina, I was thinking. You know how you said you weren’t sur
e that nursing was for you?” Brandon says as he walks out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist.
“Uh, yeah?” I lick my lips and watch the droplets fall from his hair, down his face and along his abs before they reach the top of the white cotton towel.
“Eyes up here, doll.” His smile is wicked. “I was thinking, why do something you don’t like? It’s just wasting money that we don’t have.”
“I wouldn’t call getting an education wasting—”
“It is if you are taking money from my education.” He heads over to the dresser, pulling it open, grabbing one of his many white V-neck T-shirts, pulling it over his head. “How about you quit? Stay home. That way you can spend more time with me.” He winks and once again, I’m lost.
“Time is good.” I sit down on the bed, taking in the view of him in the dark denim Levis he’s now wearing.
“Very good.” He turns and stalks toward me. A predator, ready to devour his prey. Slowly he begins to crawl on top of me. Inch by inch my body shivers from the way his skin grazes mine. “We could be doing this. In all my spare time.” He leans down, taking my lips in his.
“I like that idea.”
Biting my lip, drawing blood, he raises his head. “Good. Now I don’t have to worry about those guys in your class.” He bends to lick the blood that bubbles up.
I shake my head. “What?”
“Come on. You know what I’m talking about. Those guys, especially that one who is always texting you.”
“Ryan? He texted me once about our study group.” I prop myself up on my elbows, wanting to talk this out, figure what is really wrong.
“He wants you, but it’s not a big deal. You’re mine and now, I’ll get you all the time…”
“Can you just give me a minute?” I reach for a glass of water, and take a sip.
“Yeah, but I do have something to confess.” She mirrors my action, then placing her glass back down, she continues. “Brandon called the next day.”
“Niki! Don’t you think that is something you should tell me? What if…” I begin to panic. What if he comes here?
“Don’t worry. Gavin took care of it. He—”
“What do you mean he took care of it?” I start to get up.
“Sit down and let me finish.” She also stands, ready to tackle or hug me. I’m not in the mood for either one. “He called crying, saying that it was an accident, begging to see you.”
“You told him I was here? I mean he knows you live here, but he thinks you still live in your house, not with Gavin.”
“Oh God, no! I told him you applied for an interior design scholarship out west. He begged to know where, but Gavin took the phone from me and threatened him within an inch of his life if he ever decided to track you down.”
I’m not sure what to say. Do I thank them for lying? For protecting me? What is the etiquette on this type of situation?
“So, he has no clue that I came here?” I begin to feel at ease for the first time in three weeks.
“Nope.”
“Good.”
“You guys haven’t ordered?” Gavin says, taking a seat by his fiancée.
Niki leans in, instantly putting a hand on his knee. “We were just chit-chatting.”
“Oh good!” He directs his attention to me. “So, what do you think? Ready to take on the challenge of making my house our home?”
“What?”
“I didn’t get a chance to ask.” She looks between the both of us. “But, we were wondering if you would like to redecorate our house.” She folds her hands together. “Please?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“Just say yes! We need your help fusing our tastes together.”
“I guess I could draw up some ideas tonight and work on it after work…” I mentally do a check list of the supplies I’ll need.
Sketch pad, colored pencils, color wheel…
“Gavin, do you have a measuring tape and basic tools?”
“Don’t I look like a guy that has tools?” He sits up straight, puffing out his chest.
“Dude, you are one hair product away from being metro and you drink margaritas. Can you see where she might question your masculinity?” Niki is amused by her own joke; I’m pretty sure she just snorted.
“I’ll show you masculinity tonight.” He reaches over, tickling her sides, causing Niki to flail around in her seat.
“Stop! Okay…” She gasps for breath. “He is a regular Tim the Tool Man Taylor.”
“I get it. He has a tool box.” I smile. Their interaction is a welcomed distraction.
“A big one!” He winks, clicking his tongue. “Huge!” He holds out his arms.
Hiding my head in my hands, I smile. This feels nice.
Normal.
Kyle
Walking through the parking lot and into Woody’s, the lumber yard named after my father, I mentally make a list of the supplies I need. Working on the cabin this evening wasn’t part of the plan, but after the invite from Drew, I needed an excuse to decline.
Heading to the back, I hear a familiar voice. “Hey son.”
Looking up, I see my stepdad taking inventory, wearing his hardhat of course. My mom would have his head if he didn’t. “Hey Jimmy. I didn’t know you were working tonight.”
“The truck broke down, all special orders expected today will be delayed till…tomorrow.” He climbs down. “Or was it Thursday?” He reaches for the tablet he insisted we get to make inventory tracking easier. “Yep, Thursday.”
“That works.” I look around, not really knowing what to say. Jimmy has always been there for me and my mom since they started dating. When he married her, he accepted me as his own. So, when he lost his job as an investment banker five years ago, hiring him seemed like the right thing to do. At fifty-five, he was pretty well set from making smart investments, but he needed to feel like he was providing. Which I understand. So, I gave him a job doing something he would be great at: working with numbers and special orders.
“Are you coming to the big 6-0?” He rolls his eyes, causing me to crack up a little. As much as he likes to pretend he hates my mom’s parties, he secretly loves them. Especially birthday parties.
“Yeah, Jimmy. I’ll be there.” I pull my phone out and pretend to check my emails.
“Good. Good.” He nods.
“Well, I better check in with the office, then I’m going to grab a few gallons of primer.”
“Be careful, son. It’s supposed to rain and those roads can get pretty slick.”
“Always.” I nod as I make my way back out front and toward the paint counter.
“What’s happenin’ my man?” Dillion, a college student who runs the paint department while he is home during the summers, throws up his hand. “What? Going to leave me hangin’?”
Reaching up, I pat him on the back. “Just have to grab a few things and then I’m out.”
“Here I thought I was going to get a break for dinner.” He plops down in a chair, grabbing a bag of chips out from the drawer beside him, eating a handful at a time. Chip crumbs fall around him.
“Who’s covering for you?” I cross my arms, sitting on the counter. Either someone called in or this kid is trying to scam another break.
“Normally Carl, but he’s on vacation. He wasn’t going to take it knowing we were shorthanded, but I told him I would just bring something in. No big deal.” Another handful of chips.
“You know what? I got this, go have dinner. Take an hour if you want.”
“Really?” He stands up, wiping his hand on his jeans.
“I have stuff I need to get done anyway.”
“Sir? Do you have just a light gray?” an older woman calls over from the samples.
“You got this.” He slaps me on the back, as he runs off, probably leaving a grease mark from the chips on my shirt.
Plastering on my biggest smile, I head over to the woman. “Hey there beautiful, do you happen to have an example of this gray?”
&
nbsp; “Well, aren’t you a sweetie,” she replies. “I do…” She rummages through her purse, digging out a picture. “But everything I hold up to it either looks really blue or really green.” She huffs, clearly worn out from trying to decide on a color, and hands over the picture.
“Ahh! You want this color right here.” I pull out a sample and compare.
“Yes! That’s the one.”
“Good. How many gallons do you need?”
“That’s a good question.” She starts explaining how big her room is, using her hands and the size of my department. She goes on and on about what color it was painted before and the time before that and the time before that.
I try to find an opportunity to cut in, but my eyes drift to the opposite side of the department. The beautiful brunette from the coffee shop is here, in my store, looking at paint samples.
“Sweetie?” The older lady startles me.
“Uh, yeah…one gallon will be plenty. If you use this brand over here.” I smile again and walk down the aisle, grabbing a can. “This is a primer and paint in one. It will cover the existing color and all the layers before that.” I wink.
“So, you were paying attention, because I could have sworn you were looking at that little darling over there.” She points.
I push her hand down. “Shhh. She may hear you.”
“You were.”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” I begin to get flustered.
“Well isn’t that just darling. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a man of your stature get this embarrassed over ogling a girl.” She sets the picture and sample down. “I’m just going to grab a few things and supplies. Be back in a few.” She leans in and whispers. “Good luck.”
What just happened?
“I wasn’t ogling!” I say loudly, causing coffee girl, a.k.a. Niki’s sister, to turn in my direction.
“I wasn’t,” I plead.
Eyes wide, mouth agape, she turns back around and resumes fiddling with samples, picking one up and placing it back where it belongs.
Did I just get ignored? “I mean I was looking, but I wasn’t ogling.” I take the can of base paint and begin to tint it.