by Kacey Shea
“I wouldn’t count on it. At least not here,” Charlie says. “I’m gonna head into work early and grab a shower there.”
“Need a ride?” I was planning to catch the AA meeting before work, but Charlie doesn’t have a car and I can always go tomorrow.
“Ruthie and I were gonna walk, but if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” I smile at them both. “Give me a few minutes to get my stuff together.” I head back to my room and shove all my makeup and toiletries into a large duffle, along with a few outfits because I can’t decide what to wear. I might want to change into sweats later, especially if this mess isn’t fixed and I end up showering at the center. My body shivers at the thought. I’m a little spoiled—okay, a lot—and the idea of using a public restroom makes me cringe. This summer is pushing me way outside my comfort zone, but an out-of-order shower might just send me over the edge.
A few hours later, I throw back my second cup of coffee and make my way to the room where my teenage volunteers are waiting. Despite this day’s odd start, I’m in a good mood and feel ready to take on the world. Or, more accurately, a group of groggy and mopey adolescents. I’ve reviewed their requests and rearranged the assignments, intending to rotate them every few days to keep everyone engaged.
“Morning!” I say a little too cheery as I step inside the meeting room. It takes everything inside me not to laugh at their less than impressed expressions. “Everyone have a good weekend?”
“Did you bring donuts?” Callum asks.
“No.” I shake my head, my smile a little less natural. “But I do have assignments.” I flip open my notebook and ignore his groan. I pull a folding chair closer to where most of the teens are gathered and sit. “Okay, almost all of you had glowing reports last week from your job supervisors. There are areas for improvement, but that’s for all of us. I don’t want you to feel defeated or upset when I meet with you individually over the coming week. Remember, this experience is to make each of us better and build up strengths. It’s also really great for those college applications.” I wink, and that earns a few smiles. “Now, a few of you are anxious to switch it up, and I tried to honor everyone’s requests. So . . .” I flip through my notes to be sure I don’t miss anyone. “Hunter and Bailey, you are both on pool duty today. We have a couple of camps coming through, so they’re going to need an extra set of eyes on the water and help directing the swim lesson families to where they need to be.”
Tyler raises his hand from the back of the room.
“Yes?” I almost ask him to hold his question until I get through the rest of the assignments, but there’s something in his shy and awkward demeanor that grants him a little extra of my patience. Plus, I really like his mom. “What’s up?”
“I can help with the pool also.” He brushes his hair from his face, but his shoulders hunch forward, as if he’s embarrassed by his request. “I mean, if you need someone.”
Hunter scoffs from his perch on one of the barstools near the ping pong table. “Why? So we have more people to watch in the kiddie pool?” He laughs at his obvious dig at Tyler’s height—or lack thereof. A few of the girls giggle and smile.
But Bailey doesn’t, her concern apparent as she stares between the two boys.
Tyler’s face pales in embarrassment, and he shrinks back onto his chair.
Teenage boys are so freaking insensitive and my heart squeezes a little on Tyler’s behalf. He’s a quiet kid, kind of a nerd, and the last thing he needs is getting picked on by Hunter. It’s probably a horrible idea sticking them together on the same job, but I don’t want to worsen his confidence by rejecting his offer. “You know what?” I smile and then glance at my notebook. “Thanks, Tyler. An extra person would be really helpful.”
Hunter’s smug smile sours and it takes all my strength to not gloat. Petty? Yes, I am. But Hunter needs to learn he’s not God’s gift to this little circle. If I can teach him a few lessons in humility, it’ll serve him in the long run.
I rattle off the rest of the assignments, dismiss the kids with the reminder of our afternoon meeting time, then hang back as each of the teens leave the room.
“Thanks, Miss Martin,” Tyler says, averting his eyes as he passes my chair.
“Of course.” I smile. “You have a good day.”
I wait until the room is empty before making a few notes in my book. A knock at the open doorway pulls my gaze up.
Chase leans into the frame, his body taking up most of the space. Today he’s wearing one of the center’s T-shirts and I think it’s a size too small because the sleeves practically stick to his skin. But his shorts. Jesus. They should be illegal. They’re made of soft cotton, fit to his thighs, and I swear if I stare much longer I’ll be able to make out the imprint of his . . .
“My eyes are up here.” His grin is positively mischievous.
I slam my notebook shut and shove to my feet, not acknowledging that I was in fact checking him out or looking at his dick. “You’re late.”
“Yeah, sorry.” His brows furrow and he drops his gaze to the floor.
I sigh, frustrated at the possibility he’s been drinking. “Do I need to test you?”
His gaze snaps up. “No.” He holds my stare, intensity building between us as I take a few more steps closer. “But you can.”
I search his eyes, wary of what I’ll discover but they’re clear and focused. The tension in my body lessens. I don’t want him to be drunk or hung over. I like this new version of Chase. Maybe a little too much.
Emboldened in his presence, I take a few more steps, expecting him to move, but when he doesn’t I edge closer, invading his personal space. Leaving a few centimeters between his chest and mine, I pause and inhale. My nostrils fill with his cologne, a fresh, woodsy scent. There’s a trace of sweetness too, as though maybe he ate something sweet before walking in.
“Are you sniffing me?” His chest shakes with restrained laughter.
I step back, a grin tugging on my lips. “Investigating.”
“Oh?” His brows lift and his smile broadens. “What’s that exactly?”
“Your sobriety status.”
Maybe I imagine it, but his smile seems to falter. “Not gonna have me blow into a tube?”
“Not today.” I cross my arms, holding my notebook to my chest. “Is everything okay?”
He scrubs a hand along the back of his neck. “That’s kind of a loaded question.”
Isn’t that the truth? “I mean, what made you late?”
“AA ran late today, and I was talking to that Tom guy afterward. You know him?” His brows shoot up. “Shit. Am I allowed to say that?” he stammers. “Sorry. I’m still new at all this.”
“I know Tom.”
“Right. Anyway, he had some plumbing issue he was going on about. I would’ve helped him out but I seriously know jack shit about how that works. All my connections are back in Richmond.” He exhales, his brow furrowing with apparent concern. “Sorry, that’s not a very good excuse.”
“But it’s the truth.”
He stares as if he can’t believe my words. “Yeah.”
“Then, that’s what counts.” I tap my notebook against his chest and nod for him to move. “Come on, let’s see what torture we have in store for you today.”
“I can’t wait.” He grins, and by the humor in his tone I think he actually means it. It’s almost as if he wants to be here. As if he’s becoming a responsible and considerable human. One I enjoy being around, and that’s probably the most troubling of all.
29
Chase
There’s a reason I’ve avoided owning my own place for all these years and it can be summed into two words: home maintenance. The universe is sure having a good laugh though, because in my two weeks of volunteering at the community center, the majority of my tasks have been maintenance related. Karma, man. She’s getting back at me for all the times I laughed at my friends for having to re-stain their deck, replace a faucet, or repair a broken fence.
Today, I’m stuck on gutters. The building is huge and I swear it’s as if every stray leaf within a five-mile radius must’ve blown into these things. Adding a challenge to my job is the fact the center is hosting a bunch of programs using the outdoor space—swim lessons, water aerobics, volleyball, tennis, and a few day camps. The area is full so I have to be extra careful not to accidently drop something on one of the patrons, or get my ladder knocked off balance by a clueless passerby.
After almost getting knocked over by a stranger who misses all the caution signs placed near my ladder I give up, deciding it’ll be easier to climb directly onto the roof and clean shit out from there. Up here I have a complete view of the pool, sand volleyball courts, and all the people coming and going. It’s backbreaking, but the people watching keeps me entertained.
I notice the scrawny teen, Tyler, right away. He must be on some kind of junior lifeguard duty, because he just stands around watching everyone in the kiddie pool, yelling for kids to walk each time they race across the decking.
He keeps staring across the pool to where Bailey’s in the water with a group of older kids, assisting a swim lesson. His crush is obvious to anyone paying attention, but I don’t think she notices. She’s distracted by that Hunter kid prancing around the deck with his shirt off like a peacock. Hell, who am I to judge? At his age I would’ve done the same.
A part of me is jealous of their simple teenage angst. Wishes for a life where the biggest dilemma is whether or not the girl likes you back. But I’ve never had that. My adolescence was filled with complexities no other teens could relate to—not that I let anyone in. At least my life then had direction. I knew what I wanted, and my career path was bright with promise.
Now here I am, just shy of my thirtieth birthday, more lost and troubled than my teenage self. The only thing I have to give is physical labor, and even that doesn’t come from a place of generosity—it’s court ordered.
Digging the dried leaves and gunk from the gutter, I think over the twelve steps, something I’ve been giving more and more reflection to over the past week. I admit, when I first attended meetings it was more about making my way into Alicia’s favor. Only I keep showing up daily and most of the time she’s not even there. Yet I choose to stay. Why?
Because you have a drinking problem.
The answer beats down on my back like the bright sun, and there’s no denying the truth. Up here on the roof of a community center, there’s no one to lie to other than myself, and frankly that’s becoming tired. I am an addict. I want out of this self-destructive cycle. When I leave this earth, I want my life to count for something. I need hope. I need something.
“I’m an alcoholic,” I whisper aloud, though no one can hear the words. It’s the first time I’ve said it with conviction, and my eyes fill with unshed tears. I blink them back, fighting the wave of emotion that overcomes me. A clear picture of Maverick, bleeding and battered as he’s strapped to a backboard flashes in my mind, knocking the wind from my lungs.
“Fuck.” I shake my head, angry at myself and disgusted with the hurt I’ve caused. My chest heaves with each exhale, though this work is hardly considered cardio. I blink and look away, but a few tears escape anyway. “Get yourself together.”
Fighting past the pain in my chest I get back to work, focusing my mind on the task at hand so I won’t be struck down by any more personal realizations. I’m almost around the first bend when I pause, a tiny noise catching me by surprise.
Meow.
The strange cry is soft, but it doesn’t come from down below. I pause, glancing around the flat rooftop building and see nothing besides the cooling units. Weird. I slide down a few feet with my bucket, prepared to dig out more leaves.
Meow. Meow.
My gaze darts to the sound and I scoot closer to the squeaky cries. There’s a one-foot retaining wall that encircles part of the roof and the closer I get, the louder the cries become. There’s a lone concrete block along the masonry wall, the top unfilled, probably left behind by whoever installed the wall up here. That’s when I notice them.
Kittens.
Huddled together in a nest of leaves, and burrowed into the hollow cinder block.
Crouching closer, I move some of the leaves and uncover at least three—no, make that five. They’re bitty little things piled up together and not yet able to walk, but they must sense my presence because within seconds they’re crying out in meowing squeaks.
“Shit.” I sit back on my heels and tug off my gloves, glancing around. There’s no sight of mama, and likely she’s a stray since her babies are up here.
The rooftop is a horrible place for kittens. I make sure they’re not in danger of wandering out of their little cinder block den before climbing back down my ladder for assistance.
“You should just give up, man,” I overhear a voice say as I descend. The male voice is familiar, but until I walk around the building, I can’t be sure. “She’s not into you. You really need to take a hint. Go back inside and ask for a different assignment.”
I ditch the last few rungs and jump to the ground, and strut around the corner to find Hunter towering over Tyler. It’s not even that the boys are that far off in height, it’s more that one has perfected the practice of using his to intimidate.
“Hey,” I say, catching them both by surprise. “What’s going on? Aren’t you guys supposed to be on duty?” I point at the pool.
“Yeah, just taking a little break to catch up.” Hunter smiles, so relaxed it almost appears natural. He really is a great actor. He clasps Tyler’s shoulder as if they’re good friends. “Right, man?”
“Uh, yeah.” Tyler glances at the ground.
Hunter doesn’t wait around. He hightails it back to his perch at the pool’s edge.
Tyler doesn’t move or glance up.
“Tyler?” I say, and his gaze lifts. “I could use a hand. You have a few minutes?”
“Uh.” He glances around, appearing unsure. “Sure.” His confidence is lacking. That’s his problem. I’d bet money he could grab that girl’s attention if he just held his head a little higher or spoke with more confidence. He doesn’t realize that’s what people are drawn to—not looks, not money, not even smarts.
I kinda want to take him under my wing. Give him advice, man-to-man, because the kid looks lost. Though I should probably clear it with Alicia first, I spring on the opportunity. “You’re not scared of cats, are you?”
His brow furrows and he shakes his head, offensiveness in his tone. “No. Why?”
“Up you go.” I walk back around the building, hoping he follows, and steady the ladder’s legs.
He trudges over, his brow furrowed and steps cautious, but a tinge of interest must propel him up. I wince when I notice his footwear—a pair of flip flops. Shit, that’s probably not a good idea or within safety code. I almost call him back down, but decide the risk is worth it. Besides, it’s not as if we’ll be doing hard labor.
Once he reaches the top, I follow suit then wave him over to the nest. “I found these guys, and I need help getting them down. Or maybe we shouldn’t move them. I really don’t know.”
Tyler squats to take a closer look, his expression lighting with genuine interest as I show off the litter of kittens.
“What do you think?” I crouch beside him.
“Me?” He twists his gaze to mine, then glances around as if there’s someone else.
“Yeah.” I nod, attempting to bolster his confidence. “I think they’re probably strays. Or abandoned? I haven’t seen a mama around and I’ve been up here working all morning. If we leave them, they’ll die.”
“We should call the humane society.”
“Good idea.” I nod. “Can you do that?”
“Oh.” He glances down to the pool. Bailey is staring up at us from her position at the end of the pool, and I mentally give myself a high five. By the flush in Tyler’s cheeks, he takes notice too. “Yeah, uh, I don’t have my phone on me. Miss Marti
n makes us lock them up during the day.”
“Right.” I pull mine from my pocket, unlocking the screen before handing it over. “Use mine.”
“Uh.” He’s still uncertain, as scared and clueless as the scrawny, meowling kittens. But I’m proud of him, because eventually he stands and walks a few feet away to make the call.
I busy myself with clearing the gutters and wait for Tyler to return. He’s on the phone for at least twenty minutes before he does.
His brow is furrowed, most of the color drained from his face when he finally hangs up the phone. “I think you’re right about the mom. They said she’d have shown or come back to check on them. But they said keep clear of the area for a few more hours just to be sure.” He sighs. “They also said we could also bring them in.”
“Okay.”
“But they’ll likely be put down. The shelter’s full.”
“Fuck.” That doesn’t seem right.
“Yeah.” He follows me back to where the kittens are snuggled up on each other.
“Want a kitten?” I say in jest. Mostly.
“My mom would kill me.” He laughs, probably the first time I’ve seen the kid smile. “Besides, they’re gonna need a lot of care. Feedings throughout the day, at least until they’re bigger.”
I scrub my forearm across my brow to wipe the sweat away, not liking the odds for these poor little creatures. “We could keep them here.”
“On the rooftop?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Inside. At least during the day. I could take them home at night.” I don’t even know what I’m saying, or why I offer. I have no caretaking skills, and anyway, it shouldn’t matter what happens to these strays. But somehow it does. “There’s a supply closet with some boxes and old rags. What do these little suckers eat?”
“Uh, I don’t know but I could find out.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Find out.”
“Won’t we get in trouble?” He pauses, his gaze studying mine. “They’re not gonna let us bring a box of kittens in the center.”