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WITH NOTHING BUT A towel wrapped around his waist, Jon Rambo stood at the window in his living room shivering. Of course his hair was still dripping from the shower he'd exited a few minutes ago, sending cold beads of water sliding down his neck and back, and that didn't help. Neither did the chill emanating from the glass.
A normal person would have been dressed by now, but the way he figured it, he still had forty-five minutes until he had to pull out of the driveway. That left him about half an hour before he had to put the suit on, and the longer he postponed putting it on, the longer he could ignore the reason for it.
It seemed like life had dealt some pretty ugly hands to pretty much everyone he knew since last summer. Sure there had been a couple of bright spots. Chris Parker, his longtime friend and partner at C&J Construction, and their employee, Harry Saunders, had gotten married just before the holidays. They'd already started the ball rolling so he could adopt her young son Scotty, but that's pretty much all he could recall. The rest had been bad, in some degree or another.
Scotty had received a bone marrow transplant the week before, in hopes of curing his Leukemia. That could turn out to be a good thing if it worked. Right now though, it was just a scary situation with no guarantees. Then there was the creep who was stalking yet another friend, Ed Winslow. A psychopath who seemed to have added everyone in their group to his list of targets.
Jon had grown up with Cal O'Hara, Dan Mulholland, and Sam Jensen – and they'd known Ed since their grade school days when he'd coached their little league team. From the time they were eleven or twelve, until they'd moved on to the teen teams, Ed had been there, moving right along with them – and he'd been a good friend ever since.
That someone wanted to kill him was bad enough. That he also wanted to terrorize everyone Ed knew was even worse. Add to that the fact that he had to attend the funeral of Renee O'Hara, Cal's mother, in a couple of hours, and just rounded out a world of ugly. If anyone asked him what he thought about life in general, he'd have to say it sucked – because, today, it did.
With a sigh, he turned away from the scene before him, hoping the light snowfall stopped before everyone had to head for the church, and after the service, to the cemetery. The last thing they needed to deal with was slick roads when their minds might not be fully on driving.
Heading back to the bathroom, he figured he could at least put his slacks and tee shirt on, and get his feet dressed. Much as he hated the thought, it was still better than turning into a block of ice in the drafty monstrosity he currently called home.
~~~~~
"IN SURE AND CERTAIN hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God our sister, Renee, and we commit her body to the ground. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust."
Jon reached up, trying to loosen his tie enough so he could breathe. He hated wearing a suit. He hated funerals even more, especially when the deceased happened to be the mother of one of his best friends.
Renee, along with Monica Mulholland and Gina Jenson, had given him more care and affection than either of his own parents ever had, and standing here at her graveside was one of the hardest things he'd ever forced himself to do. When he'd crawled out of bed this morning, he'd seriously considered calling Dan to say he'd come down with a bug. To lie. Except he couldn't. She didn't deserve that from him, or anyone else.
Though her cancer diagnosis had been unexpected, with all the advances in medicine, everyone assumed she'd be cured and live a good long life. They couldn't have been more wrong. By the time the tumor had been discovered, the cancer had spread everywhere, and the speed with which it took her had been a nightmare.
This was the first time he'd ever lost anyone close to him, and as he listened to the minister's kind words, he had a hard time trying to hold himself together. But the pain he felt was nothing compared to that of her real family.
Even now, Cal acted as if he couldn’t believe she was gone. The expression on his face, as they’d walked to the gravesite, had been one of shock and horror, and it had hurt Jon’s heart to see him in so much pain. To know that no matter what he said or did, it wouldn't help. It had been this same way when his brother, Kelly Junior, had been killed in a car crash when they'd all been teenagers. Still, they'd all been there for him, just as they were now.
To his left, Dan Mulholland stood at attention, an arm wrapped around Jess, who wept softly, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Next to them, in a pretty much mirror image, stood Sam and Holly Jensen. On his other side, looking like statues in the brisk January wind, were Ed Winslow, whose hands were clasped together in front of him, and Chris Parker, who had shoved his in the pockets of his slacks.
Harry was the only one missing from their ragtag family, but Scotty’s transplant had been just a few days ago and she hadn’t set foot outside the hospital since. Chris was only here for the graveside service, and would be heading back to join them as soon as it was over.
It was a perfect day for a funeral, if there was such a thing. A dreary day, dark clouds blotting out even the tiniest hint of sun. Even the fresh layer of snow, which should have brightened the cemetery a little, wasn’t enough to offset it.
After the final prayer was prayed, he watched as Cal stepped forward with his wife and father, each reaching down to scoop up a handful of dirt from the mound just outside the awning. In unison, they poured it slowly on the lid of the mahogany coffin and then, tears rolling down his cheeks, Cal kissed his fingertips and gently touched the gleaming wood, as though he might touch the woman resting beneath the cover.
Jon could feel tears burning his eyes, and he tried to swallow the lump that lodged in his throat as the pastor stepped forward to invite everyone back to the church for a supper prepared for them by the congregation.
The thought of his friend having to eat food prepared by strangers, much of it likely packaged convenience foods, filled him with anger. Cal was always the first one to step up and offer to provide a meal in times of tragedy, and it seemed wrong that in his time of sorrow, he’d be served normal, everyday food prepared by normal people. Not that the food wouldn’t be good. He was sure it would be fine, and he knew that Cal would be grateful for their efforts, it just seemed wrong that no one had thought to provide him with the same thing he so freely gave to everyone else.
"That was rough," Ed said with a sigh, as their small group gathered just under the edges of the canopy. Jon noted that his eyes were red rimmed, as were every other pair he saw. He supposed his were, too, but he didn’t want to look in a mirror to confirm it.
Cal, Darby, and Kelly were accepting the condolences from friends and acquaintances who had come to pay their respects. People who might be sad for their loss, but who would go on with their lives, barely giving a thought to Renee's family as they continued to mourn for a long time to come.
As more and more people wandered in, they were forced to move, Jess and Holly standing under a tree talking with Dan and Sam’s mothers, working out a schedule to provide meals for Cal and Darby for the next couple of weeks. He wanted to tell them that it was a waste of time. Cal would be cooking like mad, as he had been doing the past few months, because it was the perfect outlet for his grief. But he kept his mouth shut. It made them feel better to think they were helping.
He wished he could figure out something to do for them, but it was hard. This was the second significant loss Cal and his father had been forced to endure, and there wasn't one of them who didn't feel helpless. What could any of them do to comfort or help their friends?
Not much, that’s what, he thought. He’d give anything to take their pain away, but he couldn't. All he could do was be there for Cal, whether he needed to talk, or just know someone was near. There wasn’t one of them who wouldn’t break their back to make this easier for him.
~~~~~
HANNAH FLETCHER KICKED her black, high heeled boots off at the door, turned the deadbolt until she felt it click into place, and crossed the room to flop down on the sofa. She let her purse fall to the floor with a thud, not even bothering to remove the mail she'd tucked in the side pocket on her way up the stairs. She hadn’t been able to get her mind off the funeral all day.
It had to be over by now. Everyone would be at the supper, pretending everything would be okay, all the while knowing it wouldn't be. It would be months, maybe even years, before life felt normal to them again.
She wasn’t sure why she was so sad. She barely knew Cal O’Hara, though he seemed like a sweet man.
Maybe it was because she'd witnessed Jon's reaction when Dan Mulholland had made the call three days ago. The same day Scotty Parker had his bone marrow transplant. They'd both been worried out of their minds about that, but it had been immediately overshadowed when the awful news had come. Clearly her boss cared about the entire O'Hara family, so that could be playing a large part in her melancholy mood today.
Except, if she were honest, she knew the real reason was because the memories of her father’s death were still so fresh. It had been almost a year, yet it felt like it could have been yesterday. She could feel again how much it had hurt to say goodbye the day of his funeral, how the emptiness and hopelessness had filled her when everyone had gone home, leaving her alone with her mother.
Mary hadn’t even come to pay her last respects. Of course there had been no way to contact her to let her know either. Her sister was too often between jobs, drifting from place to place along the California coast. She always called from pay telephones because cell service cost money she preferred to spend on other things. He’d been gone for almost two months before Hannah had been able to break the sad news to her.
She closed her eyes and sighed. From experience, she knew it would be months before the pain Cal felt would begin to ease, though getting back to his routine would help. And knowing what she did of him, that would happen sooner rather than later. He and all of his friends were all hard workers. In situations like this, that would be a good thing.
Shaking off the sad feelings, Hannah got to her feet and walked to her 'kitchen,' a little hole in the wall that took up part of one corner of the room. There were no windows, and barely any counter space or cupboards, but she'd learned to make do. Sometimes she wished for something ten times its size so she could bake up a storm when moods like this struck, but there was scarcely enough room to turn around in, much less given into her love of cooking on a large scale. And since she'd signed a year-long lease for the efficiency apartment, and that wouldn't be up for a few more months, there wasn't anything to be done about it now.
If she'd thought everything through, she could have gotten a bigger place. Her share of her father's life insurance had been more than generous, but she wasn't one to squander money. When she'd first come to Michigan, she hadn't known how long it would take to find a job, or even if she'd be able to find one, so she opted for cheap. And truthfully, she didn’t really need any more space than this, this being a twelve-by-fifteen living room/kitchen by day, and a twelve-by-fifteen bedroom/kitchen by night, thanks to the fold out sofa she’d just vacated.
Before leaving for the worksite this morning, she’d put a boneless chicken breast in the refrigerator to thaw, and she pulled that out now, tossing the plastic bag on the counter and flattening it as best she could with a wooden rolling pin. When she was finished, it went into a small covered pan with a little coconut oil, garlic, salt, and parmesan cheese.
Turning the burner to low, Hannah walked to the dresser that sat between the two windows facing the street, pulled out a pair of soft flannel lounge pants and a long sleeved tee shirt, and carried them to her tiny bathroom. She had enough time for a quick shower before supper, and she intended to get it done so she could relax afterward.
The plan was to eat, get the bed set up, and read until she fell asleep, but she should have known better than to count on being able to carry it out. She’d just turned the chicken, and was heading back to the bathroom to remove the towel wrapped around her head when her cell phone rang.
Rolling her eyes, she did an about face and dug it out of her purse. Most likely her mother, the last person she wanted to talk to right now, but if Hannah didn’t answer, the woman would worry herself sick. Except it wasn’t her mother. The caller I.D. showed a California number, and her heart sped up.
"Mary!" she exclaimed, cradling the phone against her ear.
"Hey, kid." Never one to bother with social niceties, the simple greeting still warmed her heart as no other could.
"I can’t believe it’s you," she said, brushing at the tears that filled her eyes as soon as she heard her sister’s voice. Of all the times she could have chosen to call, today was perfect timing. Maybe she could pull her out of the doldrums.
"The one and only. How’re you doing, Hannah Banana?" Hannah smiled at the silly childhood nickname.
"I miss you."
"No mushy stuff, okay?" came the brusque response. Mary never liked what she considered sentimental emotions, and hadn’t the entire time they’d been growing up. She was just a gruff, taking care of business kind of girl. But Hannah had never doubted that she loved her, not after her sister had taken up with the wrong crowd in high school, and not after she'd moved hundreds of miles away after she dropped out of school a few months before graduation.
"Okay, no mushy stuff. How have you been?"
"I asked first."
"I’m fine. Settling in well."
"Did you meet him yet?"
"Yes. I’ve seen him quite a few times now. I’ve even talked to him a couple of times." She heard a noise and could almost picture Mary clicking her tongue in disgust.
"Did you tell him?"
"No."
"Are you going to?"
"I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet."
"So what did you do? Just walk up to him and introduce yourself?"
"No. Of course not. He’s friends with Jon."
"Jon?" Oops. She’d forgotten they hadn’t talked since her move.
"He’s one of my bosses."
"Just a boss?" Mary asked, intuitively.
"Just a boss. Kind of an acquaintance, I guess."
"You’re being really non-specific here."
"Ha! Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. But to ease your mind, I’ve done a couple of things with the wives of his other friends. They’re trying to help me settle in here. They’re all nice."
"What does Mom think about all of this?"
"You know her. She wasn’t happy that I left Texas, but after what she did, what can she say? I still have trouble talking to her."
"It’s not good to hold a grudge. It only hurts you in the long run."
"Mary, why don’t you move to Michigan?" Hannah suggested, her voice soft as she changed the subject abruptly. She hoped she'd conveyed how much she'd love for that to happen. "My place is small but you're always welcome here."
"Yeah, not. I hate being cold. Best thing Mom did was to move us south. But it’s even warmer in California so thanks, but no thanks."
"Well, you know I had to try."
"You always do. Listen, Hannah-" Hannah closed her eyes, knowing what was coming next. Mary never talked for more than a few minutes, and it always hurt because the calls were so sporadic. Sometimes months would pass without so much as a word. Still she couldn’t help it and said,
"Not yet. Please?"
"Don’t make this harder than it has to be." For once, her voice sounded gentle, or what passed as gentle for her sister. "Hannah, be careful. I don’t want to see you disappointed, kid. You tend to think things are all rainbows and bunny rabbits, and they’re not."
"That’s not true. But I do try to see the potential, and the positive side of everything. Maybe you’d be happier if you did the same." There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and Hannah feared she’d hung up. "Mary?"
"I’m here." Another brief hesitation followed. "I know you have this fantasy going on. That everything is going to work out, and he’s going to be everything you think he is...and he’s not. No one knows that more than I do. And I don’t want you hurt."
"You might be wrong."
"For your sake I hope so. But I don’t think I am."
"Maybe he’s changed."
"Yeah. Miracles happen, right?"
"Yes, they do. I just wish-"
"Look, you know me. I’m opinionated. I’m also the most negative person you’ll ever know, so don’t mind me." She laughed in resignation. "Besides, you’ll do what you want, regardless of what I say. You always were a stubborn little snot.
"Ha-ha. Look who’s talking." That wasn’t the brightest thing she could have said, given how seldom she heard from her sister. "I’m sorry, Mary. I didn’t mean that."
"Sure you did. But that’s okay. I’m not out of your life forever, kid. I’ve just got some things I need to figure out. Get my head on straight, you know."
"You still bartending?"
"It’s honest work, Hannah."
"I wasn’t judging, just asking. You’re taking care of yourself?" Silence reigned for another few seconds.
"I’m trying, kid."
"You’re- I know you used to have some trouble with- You know-"
"Drugs, Hannah. You don’t have to dance around the word. Drugs. And you shouldn’t be asking questions you don’t want to know the answers to."
"Mary-" Hannah’s heart constricted painfully.
"I told you I had to work it out before I come back. I’m trying, I really am. It’s harder than you know."
"I’ll keep praying for you then. I really miss having you in my life." And she did, so very much.
"Me too, kid. Someday, I promise."
"I know. Someday soon, I hope."
"Well, I need to get around for work. Remember what I said, okay? Don’t get your hopes up. I don’t want to see you hurt again. You don’t remember how much you cried. I do."
"I don’t think that I'll be upset no matter how it turns out, but I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind."
"If it doesn't work out the way you've built it up in your head, you'll be broken again. But listen, I’ve gotta go. I’m going to be late if I stay on here much longer."
"I love you."
"Love you, too, kid."
~~~~~
"YOU OKAY?" CHRIS ASKED, walking toward the little trailer they hauled from worksite to worksite.
It was barely big enough for the two desks, filing cabinet, drafting table, and miniscule bathroom it housed but it served its purpose, though Jon hadn’t been inside it in a few weeks.
When Scotty's bone marrow transplant had been scheduled this past summer, everyone had gone out of their way to be careful around him, Harry, and Chris. They hadn't wanted to take a chance on his catching something, and until his immune system was strong enough to handle everyday kinds of germs, they would continue to keep the modular as germ free as they could. No way did they want to risk Chris accidentally exposing him to something, especially a mold called aspergillus. It was a vicious thing and could make that little boy seriously sick. Maybe even kill him – and it tended to be found in construction sites.
So after having the office professionally cleaned, the only ones allowed in it were Chris and Hannah. Everyone was doing their part to make sure the little guy lived a long and healthy life after his long and miserable battle with Leukemia.
"I’m fine." Jon recognized the lie as soon as the words left his mouth. Judging by Chris’s raised brows, he did, too. Shrugging, he said, "I’m worried about Cal. He looked really bad yesterday."
"Yeah, I know. Can you believe Kelly?" He was glad he wasn’t the only one infuriated by Kelly’s announcement at the dinner following the funeral.
"No I can’t. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but-" Jon still wanted to shake him and demand to know what he thought he was doing.
A professor at the local college, Kelly O’Hara had put in for a year-long sabbatical. A year he intended to spend in Florida – and he would be leaving the first of next week.
"I can understand how losing his wife would make him go a little off the deep end," Chris continued, shaking his head, "but you’d think he’d consider Cal in making a decision like this."
"I know. It’s got to be like losing both of his parents in the space of a week."
"I wanted to haul off and slug him. They should be sticking close together right now, not having one of them taking off across the country. What kind of father would do that?" Muttering to himself, Chris headed for the trailer, and Jon couldn’t suppress a grin as he continued past on his way to the house he was helping with today.
It wasn’t all that long ago that Chris would probably have helped Kelly pack his bags, but Harry and Scotty had settled him right down, a fact that all the guys teased him about relentlessly. Not that Chris minded. He was completely devoted to his new wife and son, and readily admitted that he’d been a jerk about Harry working for them. He also felt a little smug about the fact that she was currently a stay-at-home mom, even if it was by necessity.
Jon knew he hoped she’d want to keep that job though. The thought of her shingling a roof had freaked him out before, but since their small wedding, it gave him nightmares. Truth be told, now that she was 'family,' he wasn't terribly thrilled at the thought of her climbing ladders either.
He fastened his tool belt around his waist as he turned the corner, now half a block from the house. He could see some of the guys hauling insulation inside and picked his pace up, his breath billowing out before him in clouds of steam. Not that he was in a huge hurry, but just two more and they'd be caught up.
Thanks to problems with permits a few weeks ago, they were really busting their butts to get back on schedule. By now they should have been working in completely enclosed shells that were halfway warm. As it was, part of the crew was still busy putting the rest of the windows in, while the rest were tackling this job with him. They’d get it all done though, no matter how much they had to pay out in overtime. There was a first for everything, but there would never be a first for a missed deadline. Not if he had any say in the matter. And he did. That was one of the perks of being a boss.
~~~~~
"HEY, ED," CHRIS SAID, lifting his cell phone to his ear. In a move probably meant to avoid distractions, he spun his chair around so the computer screen wasn’t right in his face. Hannah bit her lip to keep from smiling, even though his back was to her and he couldn't see it anyway.
While Chris did his best to continue to be a productive member of the business, there simply wasn’t enough to keep him busy in the trailer. She could tell it was driving him nuts, but he would do anything in his power to keep Scotty safe, and so they both went along with the pretense that he was going over important company files when, in fact, he was usually playing one computer game or another.
At first she’d been afraid her job might be in jeopardy, which would really throw a wrench into her plans, but Chris assured her early on that her job was secure. He hadn’t campaigned for a secretary for so long only to lose her now. Besides, as soon as Scotty’s doctors gave him the green light, he’d be back out on the site doing what he loved most – and when that day came, he didn’t want to have to find a replacement for her.
Hannah kept her eyes on her monitor, though she couldn’t have told anyone what was actually on it, as she listened to Chris’s end of the conversation. Nothing important, just another Saturday night get-together with most of the gang. From the sounds of it, Detective Ed Winslow was trying to talk Chris into getting Linda, Scotty’s nurse, to babysit so he and Harry could come.
"I’ll run it by my wife, but I wouldn't hold my breath, Ed. It's only been a week, and I don't think we'd be able to pry Harry away from the hospital with a crowbar." He paused. "No. If she doesn't think it's a good idea, I'll be keeping her company. Yeah, I know. Totally worth it. And we'll be able to make up for lost time in a year or so." When he hung up, Hannah slapped her hand over the mouse so it wouldn't look like she'd been eavesdropping.
"Everything all right?" she asked, as though she weren’t well aware that it was.
"What? Oh. Yeah. That was just Ed. Sam and Holly are having the bonfire this week. I guess they’re threatening to kidnap us if we don’t show up of our own free will," he said, flashing a grin her way, then frowning. It was such an endearing expression that she just wanted to hug him – but she stayed put. She'd bet he was thinking about another night spent at the hospital. He didn't do 'cooped up' well, which made the lengths he was willing to go to for his wife and son truly amazing. It was hard not to admire a man like that.
One thing about working for C&J Construction was that she needed to keep herself in check. Not that she’d ever be tempted to flirt with Chris. Married men were and always would be off limits, but there was no denying that both of them were beyond handsome.
When they’d first hired her, Chris had worn his light brown hair kind of long and shaggy, and along with a perpetual day's growth of beard, he'd had a rugged, mountain man look about him. Now, though he didn't wear it much shorter, he was keeping it trimmed, but the whiskers were still there. Harry had confided in her at the company Christmas party that she encouraged him to use the razor sparingly, and she couldn't blame her a bit. There was just something about a man with a five o'clock shadow that was appealing.
Jon, on the other hand, seemed to have an air of mystery about him. Hannah couldn't quite put her finger on, but there was something, and it just added to the whole package. His hair was quite a bit darker, nearly black, and he wore it fairly short. He, too, seemed to favor the scruffy look, and sometimes he was so sexy he literally took her breath away, especially when he wore one particular blue flannel shirt. If circumstances were different, she might be tempted to flirt with him and see where it led. But her reasons for being here didn't include daydreaming about handsome men.
"I imagine they’re missing all of you," she murmured, opening an email from one of their suppliers. "Tony, over at Benton’s, just let us know that the siding is in. He says they can deliver it this afternoon if we want."
"Darned right we want. Tell him we'll be looking for the truck. And tell him thanks for putting a rush on it. We might get the rest of the houses covered before the end of the month after all."
"Will do. Give me just a second here," she murmured, clicking on reply and typing a short response. "There. It's sent. We should hear back from him in a few minutes."
Chris went back to his game, while she started doing some actual work, after making a quick call to Jon to let him know about the siding. He was at least as happy as Chris, and told her to work up a new schedule – with plenty of overtime.
Fortunately the stone and brick facades had been finished for a couple of weeks, so they could be back on schedule sooner than they'd planned. It seemed this project, jinxed for what felt like forever with all of the setbacks and delays, might finally be back on track.
It was just too bad they were in the middle of a snowy, cold snap. She hated to think of the crew working outside in weather so cold it chilled her to the bone just walking from the modular to her car, but she loved it. Her first winter in Michigan was definitely a shock, though a very pleasant one. Every time it snowed, she found herself glued to a window because it almost mesmerized her. It was so different than the little she’d seen while growing up in Texas that she was in the minority. Most everyone who was used to it couldn't wait for spring, but in her opinion, winter could stick around as long as it wanted.
"Hey, what are you doing Saturday night?" Chris asked suddenly, looking up from his game.
"Probably reading. Why? Want me to babysit?" She'd grown quite attached to Scotty over the past months and wouldn't mind at all.
"No. I appreciate the offer, but Ed knew when he asked, and I knew when I said I'd run it by Harry that we wouldn't be going. It's way too early in the game to leave Scotty. But you ought to go. You don’t get out enough, and the girls were asking about you when they went out last week."
"I don’t know. It’s one thing when it’s at your house, but I think Sam and Holly will have a big enough crowd without me showing up."
"Ha! Want me to call Holly?"
"Jeez, no!" Hannah exclaimed, feeling her face turn red. She shuddered to think of Holly’s reaction. It would sound like she was trying to finagle an invitation, and that would be humiliating. "I usually try to catch up on my reading on weekends, so don’t worry about it."
"C’mon. I thought you enjoyed spending time with everyone."
"I do, but-"
"But what?" Hannah rolled her eyes and scrolled through a few more emails. "But... You're just pretending and hate us all?" She glanced up at him and before she could stop herself, she stuck her tongue out at him. Chris just laughed. "Then why?" She sighed deeply.
"I appreciate everyone trying to be so nice to me but – I hate feeling like I'm crashing all of your parties."
"Are you kidding me?" he asked, snorting his disgust. "If we didn't like you, we wouldn't ask you. How many of the guys on the crew do you ever see at any of our houses? None, that's how many. We like you. The girls all love you. So-" Hang on just a minute.
She watched him pick up his cell phone and felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Somehow she just knew he wasn't making a business call.
"Hey, Holly. Hannah's looking at her mouse like she's about to lob it at my head or something, so I need to make this quick."
"Chris," she muttered, her voice low, but the threat was obvious. She did pick up the computer mouse, but he knew she wasn't going to throw it, though he did brace himself when she brought it back behind her head like she might.
"There's no way Harry and I are going to be able to make it Saturday night. No, it's just way too soon. Anyway, I told Hannah she'd be more than welcome to go, but I don't think she believes me."
"Chris!" she muttered, scowling at her boss. He winked at her, grinning like a kid who just got away with something.
"That’s what I told her, but you can tell her yourself." He got up and rounded his desk, looking pointedly at her hand. She sat the mouse down, shaking her head hard. Chris just ignored her. "That way she can get it straight from the horse’s mouth. No, I did not call you a horse. Here. You talk to her. Yeah, love you guys, too."
With that, he held the phone out and, not even trying to lower his voice, said, "Told you so."
"You're incorrigible," she whispered, putting the phone up to her ear. She could hear Holly chuckling on the other end. With a sigh she said, "Hey, Holly."
"Hi, Hannah. And yes. I agree with you. Our Chris is definitely incorrigible. But in this case, I'm glad. I don't know why you think you wouldn't be welcome here because you are. We would love to have you. Please say yes? I'll be so offended if you don't."
And so Hannah said yes, watching as Chris stood before her desk, a smug smile on his face. She couldn't be too mad at him though. It sure beat sitting home alone. Again. And it would give her a chance to get a little closer without anyone questioning her motives.
~~~~~
JON HUNCHED HIS SHOULDERS forward under the hot spray of the shower, and was thankful that the house came with an almost endless supply of hot water. The way his body felt tonight, he might just empty the heater of every drop.
In their haste to get all of the homes in the subdivision sided, they’d worked until nearly nine. When the sun had set low enough in the sky so that it was difficult to see what they were doing, and then disappeared entirely, they used the flood lights usually reserved to work inside during the winter months. They lit up the area so well that he and every single one of their employees kept going until exhaustion demanded they stop.
The guys knew as well as he did how much nicer it would be as the month progressed and slid into February, that the siding would help keep the frigid cold out when they moved indoors. No one wanted to risk frostbite, or try to use a saw or nail gun with half-frozen fingers. And no matter how much heat the kerosene heaters put out, without that siding, the brisk winds would find any little crack and crevice.
Finally, when the water started to cool, he turned the faucet off, dried himself quickly, and pulled on a pair of ragged navy sweats and a white tee shirt, before heading down to the kitchen.
Sighing, he grabbed a frozen dinner and stuck it in the microwave and then, sinking down on a chair, he planted his elbows on the card table and rested his head in his hands. He should have ordered pizza, and starting Monday, that's exactly what he was going to do – before he even left the site. He was going to be eating a lot of takeout until this part of the job was over because when they were working this hard, all he really wanted to do when he got home was lie down and sleep for two days. While he knew it would never happen, he could shower and go straight to bed...if he had something ready to eat as soon as he walked in the door.
He listened to the quiet, broken only by the hum of the oven until the furnace kicked on, the blower muting the noise a little. For a moment, he thought about dragging the table over to the vent since he still hadn’t warmed up enough, but he was so exhausted he didn’t want to move. The only thing he wanted right now was to fill his belly when the timer dinged, and then crawl into his sleeping bag on the futon in the living room.
Usually he’d be working on the house until bedtime, but when they put in long hours like this, he left it alone until things settled down. Right now he needed to conserve all of his energy for the job that mattered...and that was keeping on schedule so the project was finished by June.
To make matters worse, he was dismayed to find he was taking Renee’s death harder than he’d thought he would. Memories from his childhood kept coming to mind at unexpected times, and there didn’t seem to be anything he could do to prevent them.
Dan and Sam’s parents had taken him under their wings, too, but it was Cal’s mother and father who rescued him most often. Who provided him with meals when he might otherwise have gone hungry. Who invited him several times a week, every week – for years – to stay overnight at their house.
Renee was the mother his own couldn’t be. Or didn’t want to be. Jon had never been sure which it was, but either way he looked at it, Cal’s mom and dad had been there for him.
That might have been part of his problem now. They’d all been there for him when he was lost and alone, but now that she was gone, he was avoiding Cal like the plague. Kelly had already left on his sabbatical, running away from the pain, and that’s exactly what Jon was doing. But the only way it worked was to avoid one of his very best friends. He was afraid if he had to watch Cal grieving, he would lose control of his own emotions, and Jon never lost control.
Losing it hurt, and he’d promised himself – at the tender age of eleven – that he wasn’t going to hurt anymore. And it didn’t matter what he had to do in order to avoid it.
When the timer interrupted his thoughts, he pushed himself to his feet, the table sagging under the pressure, and he retrieved his chicken dinner. One of these days, he was going to have to go somewhere for a real meal.