CHAPTER 11
REID
Dori doesn’t trust me. I’ve got that much figured out. She clearly has no idea of what a guy in my position is offered on a daily basis. I could sleep with a different girl, or several, every night. There’s always another one, ready to go. I’ve had offers—which I absolutely do not accept—from girls so young it makes me want to track down their parents and tel them they should be arrested for raising baby whores. Even when it comes to the ones who are borderline old enough, I won’t do some chick who thinks she’s al grown up just because she’s experienced.
I underestimated Dori’s determination to keep the Diego girl away from me. Not only did she manage to get me moved outside with Frank permanently, she’s now supervising Gabriel e herself. I’m not sure what was expected from this arrangement, but I bet it wasn’t the shit-fit that went down this morning when Gabriel e found out about it.
Al egedly, she picked up a hammer and threw it. Not at a person, but supposedly it narrowly missed a window and lodged itself in the drywal of the dining nook. I didn’t lodged itself in the drywal of the dining nook. I didn’t witness this meltdown, but thanks to Frank being a gossip addict, everyone outside stays ful y informed of every rumor inside or out. It’s not unlike a mini movie set.
“Roberta threatened to cal her mother and send her home if she didn’t calm down, but Gabriel e stil owes at least thirty hours.” Frank looks at me and shrugs. “I had no idea that girl would miss working with me so much.”
“In your dreams, old man,” quips his wife, Darlene, who’s loading bedding plants into a wheelbarrow. Her hair is entirely silver and longer than I’ve ever seen on a woman her age. It hangs in a fat braid down her back. “Come on, kid, let’s get these pansies in the ground.” I realize she’s talking to me when no one else moves.
By lunch I’ve learned how to plant pansies (“Not too deep! Not so close together!”), and the fact that Frank and Darlene retired five years ago, declared themselves bored stupid six months later, and decided to design landscaping for Habitat homes instead of going on cruises and taking up crafts.
“What did Frank mean, about Gabriel e owing thirty hours?” I’m staring at my hands, which are filthy. I couldn’t plant flowers with gloves on (earning, “Noob,” from Darlene), so there are solid black lines of dirt under al ten fingernails. My manicurist is going to kil me.
“The families approved to get a house have to put in a few hundred hours of ‘sweat equity.’ Gabriel e’s parents both work two jobs, and her brothers are too young to put in time.” She gives me a weird look. “Up until last week, Gabriel e was total y uninterested in helping out.” I fol ow her to the tap where she rinses off the hand tools we just used. When she doesn’t elaborate, I rol my hand.
“And…”
“And then you became a… volunteer.” Ah. “So you think my presence, er, motivated her to participate.”
She nods, giving me that squinty, old-lady, I-see-through-you look. Christ. Has Dorcas alerted everyone that I’m preying on the under-aged girl?
“Look, I’m not interested in Gabriel e. She’s a child. I want nothing to do with her, okay?”
Several things happen at once. Darlene blinks, eyebrows rising, as she stares over my shoulder. In the same moment, I hear a strangled whimper and rapidly retreating footsteps.
Wel , shit.
*** *** ***
Dori
I knew Friday that I was in for it today with Gabriel e. I spent the whole weekend dreading it. Even so, I misjudged the level her outrage would reach at being separated from Reid. I should have known.
The thunk of the hammer hitting the wal was, oddly enough, the catalyst for calming her. I think it stunned her that she could do something so destructive and potential y deadly. Thank God no one was in the path of that airborne tool; the claw imbedded itself into the drywal . Roberta, Gabriel e and I stood there in shock for a ful minute before Roberta cleared her throat and asked, “Maybe you’re too upset to work today?”
Gabriel e’s answer was a whisper delivered towards her feet. “No.”
Roberta and I exchanged a look and I gave her a faint nod. “Al right, then. Fol ow Dori, and I’l see you at lunch break.”
Gabriel e and I spent the morning patching the damaged kitchenette drywal , fol owed by measuring, marking and dril ing holes in every cabinet door in the whole house for the hardware we’l instal this afternoon. My ears were ringing from the constant high whine of the dril in confined spaces.
Gabriel e hadn’t uttered a single word during the entire three hours. “Two more and then it’s time for lunch,” I said, turning to find she wasn’t in the room. I had no idea how long she’d been gone, but I had a good idea where I could find her.
“Rats,” I muttered, stalking towards the back door.
I forgot to take off the goggles or leave the battery-powered dril behind. Thank the stars I was carrying the darned thing business end down, because as I yanked the back door open, Gabriel e bul eted through it. I jumped back as she lurched past me, crying.
“Gabriel e?” The sound of my voice only sped her up.
She shoved the front door open, throwing, “Leave me alone!” over her shoulder. The engine on her twenty-year-old clunker thundered to life out front a few seconds later.
Reid.
As I stride onto the back patio, he turns from where he stands with Darlene at the faucet. “What did you do to her?” I step closer and lower my voice when I notice the audience of people pretending not to listen. I don’t care about embarrassing him, but Gabriel e’s distress is no one else’s business. “What did you say to her?” I hiss.
His eyes travel the length of me, just as he did last week when we met, except today his gaze lingers on my legs, the dril clutched in my hand, and the safety goggles stil on my face. His answer is al lazy insolence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Shoving the goggles onto my head, I raise my chin. “I’m talking about Gabriel e, who just stormed through the house, very upset. Stop acting like you’re oblivious, when we both know you’re the one who caused it.” He steps closer and looks down at me. “I didn’t do or say a damned thing to her.” He gestures towards Darlene without breaking our eye contact. “And I have a rock-solid alibi, Dorcas.”
Darlene steps closer. “Dori, calm down, hon. Gabriel e came
outside
and
overheard
something
she
misunderstood, that’s al . She’l get over it.” I am stunned speechless. I cannot believe this. He’s managed to win over Darlene! Is there a woman in this world, besides me, who’s immune to him? I turn and stomp back into the house without replying, which is incredibly rude of me and I’l have to apologize to her later.
I would dearly like to take a hammer to the drywal myself. It’s too bad there’s no demolition on this job, because I’d be a whirling dervish of destruction today.
Gabriel e and I could team up and take down a house this size like twin tornadoes.
After lunch (during which Reid and I sit on opposite sides of the yard), I grab the ratchet screwdriver set, gather the handles, knobs and screws, and head for the master bathroom. I’ve resigned myself to working alone for the rest of the day, which is fine with me, but it’s boring with no music. I forgot to bring the radio today, and my iPod, tragical y, is unfixable. If I want music, I’l have to provide it for myself.
Starting with the under-sink cabinets, I line up the screws with a chrome hinge while balancing the door on my foot, and fit the ratchet to a screw and crank it, click-click-click.
By the time I’m adding the chrome handle, I’ve got a slow, steady beat going and I’m singing a soft song cal ed
“Gravity” by Alison Krauss. It’s about a girl who leaves home and kind of never looks back, because once she’s gone, she realizes that life isn’t as straightforward as she’d once thought.
When I stand up to grab another hinge and set of screws for the next door, Reid is standing in the doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets. My voice falters, but I finish the last line before going silent. I don’t know how long he’s been there. For a moment he doesn’t say anything, and then his eyes shift to the cabinet doors stacked against the wal . “Roberta sent me to help with the cabinets.” I grab a door without replying and position it as I did the last one. Since the hinges wil be placed on the opposite side from the last one, it won’t be as easy to attach, but I know what I’m doing, and it’s not an impossible job to do alone. Aside from the fact that I’d rather do it without him standing there staring at me.
When he doesn’t take the unspoken hint, I say, “I don’t need help.”
I expect him to turn and go, but he doesn’t. Bracing his shoulder against the doorjamb, he crosses his arms over his chest and watches me. I ignore him, balance the door, line up the hinge with the predril ed holes, and attempt to twist the screws in partway by hand.
The first screw doesn’t catch, pops out of the hinge and flies across the ceramic tile floor, stopping when it bumps against his boot. Without missing a beat I grab another screw and repeat the process, with an identical result. “Holy Moses,” I mutter, which earns a rude laugh from Reid as he leans to pick up the screws at his feet. He jingles them in his hand like Dad does with loose change.
“Any time you want me to hold something, or screw something, just let me know.”
Wonderful. A patented Reid Alexander double entendre.
Final y, the screws catch, and I offer up a silent prayer of thanks while wondering how much trouble I’d be in if I stood up and kicked him in the shin with my steel-toed boot.
Hard.