by Kelli Walker
“I don’t think your mother would enjoy you using that language,” I said.
“Then tell us what happened,” DeShawn said.
“I’m not sure it’s my story to tell,” I said. “Your mother did get spooked today, but I don’t think she wants to frighten you guys. So for now, just let it rest. Everything’s okay and calm for the moment. Can you do that for me, guys?”
I watched them nod their heads before I drew in a deep breath. I needed to go across the street and get a shower. I also needed to call Jackson as well before the pizza got to Isabelle’s. But before I left to do anything, I was going to make sure Isabelle could get in touch with me the next time something like this happened.
Because with men like Darnell, there was always a next time.
“Where does your Mom keep pens and notebooks and stuff like that?” I asked.
“The catch-all drawer in the kitchen,” Dom said. “The one by the door.”
“Thanks. You boys go get cleaned up. I’m going to go get a shower myself and make a phone call, then I’ll be back over for dinner,” I said.
“Hey Tristan?” DeShawn asked.
My eyes lifted to the boy as I stepped into the kitchen.
“Thanks for watching out for Mom while we’re not here,” he said.
“Yeah. We worry about her when we’re in school,” Dom said.
I smiled at them before I reached up and patted their shoulders.
“Of course,” I said. “And she’s lucky to have two great sons looking out for her. Now go get cleaned up. Pizza’s going to be here soon.”
The boys stampeded down the hallway and I made my way to that drawer. I pulled it open and pulled out a pad of sticky notes, then dug for a pen that worked. I wrote my name and my number down on the pad, sticking the note to her calendar where I knew she would see it. My eyes drifted out the kitchen window, taking a look at the angle Isabelle would’ve been standing at when she saw him. I bent my knees a bit to get down to her level and noticed that even from her height, she had a clear shot of the road and the sidewalk. If she saw someone standing out there, nothing like a tree or the mailbox or the frame of the window could’ve been obscuring her view.
Which made me even more uneasy.
I pulled out my phone and shot a message off to Jackson, telling him to call me at his earliest convenience. We needed to get the ball rolling on this. But I also knew I would be fighting his schedule with the CIA, which meant it could be days before I heard from him. I walked across the street and went into my home, resolving myself to the quickest shower I’d ever taken in my life.
I needed to get back over to their house.
I needed to make sure Isabelle felt safe again before she attempted sleep.
Isabelle - One Week Later
“If I do a palette television station for you, it’s going to be bulky. It will greatly minimize the room. If you want me to do a television stand for you, your best bet is to go with something lighter. With a smooth top and a couple of storage shelves on the bottom,” I said.
“Could I order some shelving to hang on the walls from you, then?”
“Of course. I could really help you maximize the space of this room, but putting in bulky furniture isn’t going to help. I can send you some examples of what I’m talking about and we can go from there,” I said.
“That would be lovely, thank you. And you said you could make a dining room table to fit ten?”
“Table and chairs,” I said. “The space you have for it will more than accommodate what you’re interested in.”
“Then I want to go ahead and put in that order, since I know that’s what I want.”
“Great. When I get back to my office, I’ll send you an invoice. Then behind that I’ll send some examples of the television stands and the shelving I’m talking about. Of course, you can always ask for custom pieces-”
“But they’ll cost more. Yes, Miss Carpenter, I know. But I’m familiar with your work, and I don’t mind paying you the extra money if the product is worth it. Thank you for your time, coming out here and looking at the space I have to work with.”
“It’s not a problem at all. I’ll get that stuff sent to your email as soon as I get home,” I said.
“I’ll keep an eye out for it.”
I hugged my newest customer, then I headed for my car. The fact that word had gotten around about me all the way to the smaller town that dotted the outskirts of Georgetown made me hopeful for the future of my business. If I took on any other clients, I would have to start hiring someone to help me work part-time.
My first employee.
The thought was exciting.
I started my journey back to my house and crossed through a part of town that made me nervous. My old stomping grounds back in high school. I passed by the football field and the softball field. I bit down onto the inside of my cheek as I passed by the road Bella and I always drove up and down whenever her mother forced me out of the house to get some time to myself after Dom had been born.
But once I passed the hospital, I had an urge to call Tristan.
“Hello?”
“Hey there,” I said. “It’s Isabelle.”
“I was wondering when you’d use my number,” he said. “How’re you doing?”
“Oh, still on edge,” I said with a sigh.
“It’s to be expected. Are you okay? Should I come over?’
“I’m not at home. I’m driving home from an in-home meeting with a new client.”
“Congratulations on the snag,” he said.
“Thanks. My work is starting to get recognized outside of Georgetown, so I’m traveling more and more for client meetings.”
“That’s exciting. What did they order?”
“One of my larger dining room table designs with the possibility of a television stand and some shelving. There’s a chance it might be a custom order, too.”
“So fancy and new. Sounds like a really good snag.”
I giggled into the phone as I watched the hospital recede in my rearview mirror.
“Have you heard from your friend yet?” I asked.
“Not yet, but I have called him a couple of times. He still works with the CIA, so there are times where he drops off the radar for a week or two at a time. We just have to be patient. I expect to hear from him soon, though.”
“That’s good. Okay.”
“You sound like you want to talk about something,” he said.
“How does parole work?” I asked.
I cringed at how idiotic the question sounded.
“You want the ins and outs, or the nitty gritty?” Tristan asked.
“I know it’s a stupid question, but every time I research it I get different answers.”
“Because parole usually varies from state to state, and sometimes county to county. But there are blanketed rules that apply to most everywhere.”
“Which rules are those?” I asked.
“When someone gets out on parole, they have three choices for a roof over their heads. A halfway house, a friend or family’s house, or a place they rent. Most people go for the first or second option because they don’t have any money coming out of jail.”
“Okay. What happens then?”
“A parolee meets with their parole officer once a week. They come to wherever that person is staying and check in on things, making sure strict rules are being followed. More specifically, they check for drugs, guns, and other paraphernalia that is considered off-limits to a parolee.”
“What about travel and stuff? I’ve read a few different things on how that happens.”
“It’s pretty simple and standard. The parolee is restricted to the county his place of residence is. If the parolee wants to go outside of the county, he has to give his parole officer three days’ notice and a reason for the travel. Then, it has to be approved.”
“But they can freely move within the county,” I said.
“Yes. Unless certain restrictions are put
on them for whatever reason.”
“What kinds of restrictions?”
“Restraining orders. Some states will ban parolees from entering properties or establishments they might have robbed or otherwise caused a disturbance in that got them arrested in the first place. In cases like DeShawn’s, the court can bar his father from approaching his place of residence without prior approval.”
“They can do that?” I asked.
“They can, and usually they do. His parole officer would have all that information in their system. But those kinds of restrictions are on a case-by-case basis. You’d have to contact Darnell’s parole officer to get the details of that. Have you tried contacting them?”
“Everyone keeps giving me the runaround. Someone told me I can go to the courthouse website and look under a link for probation offices, but then it just gave me a number to call. Then I keep getting put on hold and leaving messages that aren’t returned. It’s been a mess.”
“Do you want me to help you with it?” he asked.
“No, no. I’ve got it. I just…”
I sighed as I turned down my street.
“I guess I just needed to dump.”
“Well you can dump on me anytime,” Tristan said.
“For some reason, that doesn’t sound quite as appealing as it needed to,” I said.
His chuckle filled my ear and it sent a wave of heat down my legs.
“What are you up to now?” he asked.
I glanced over at his house and saw him standing on the porch.
“Just pulling into my driveway,” I said. “What are you doing?”
“About to ask this beautiful woman I know to dinner.”
“Oh really?” I asked as I parked my car. “And who is the lucky lady?”
“Just my neighbor.”
I giggled as I stepped out of my car and turned to face him.
“I’d like to take you out to thank you for the furniture you made me,” Tristan said.
“Paying me is your thank you.”
“Then let me take you out to pay you back for the food you brought over to me my first night in my home.”
“Your cookies did that,” I said.
“Well, I’ve only got one more argument then for taking you out to dinner.”
“Try your best,” I said as I leaned against my car.
“Let me take you out to dinner to get your mind off things.”
His eyes connected with mine from across the road, and I didn’t have an argument for that excuse.
But if I was being honest, I really didn’t want one.
“I’ll take you all out,” Tristan said. “The boys can come, too.”
“That’s really sweet of you to offer,” I said.
“So, what do you say? Will you let me take you and the boys out for dinner tomorrow night?”
My mind wafted back to the conversation I had with Bella in my kitchen. Her comments about taking time for myself came flooding back to my memory. The idea of spending a nice evening with Tristan did sound appealing. Away from the house. Away from all the chaos. And I knew Bella would jump at the invitation to sit with her godsons and play videogames all night.
“I won’t let you take the boys out,” I said. “But you can take me out.”
Even from across the road, I saw his eyes light up.
“Then I’ll pick you up tomorrow around seven,” he said.
“It’s a date,” I said.
I hung up the phone and walked into my house as a giddiness filled my body. I felt like a college girl with a crush. A smile bloomed across my cheeks so big it hurt, and I already felt myself growing excited for the date ahead. I walked through the house and out to my shed so I could send off those things I promised for my client, but my mind was swirling with other things. What I would wear on my first date in years. Where Tristan might take me. What we could do after dinner if we enjoyed ourselves enough.
I dialed Bella’s number and put the call on speakerphone, my hands shaking as I sat down at my desk. I’d never asked her to babysit before.
She always offered, but I had always turned her down. I never had a reason to up until this point. I was a mother first and a woodworker second, and none of those things required someone to watch my children. Most mothers left their sixteen-year olds alone in the house by themselves all the time. And I knew my boys could take care of themselves if I left them with money for pizza. But with everything looming over our heads, I felt more comfortable with the idea of their godmother being in the house with them.
All I had to do was beg her to babysit and bait her with the promise of juicy gossip over lemonade and beer the next morning.
Tristan
I knocked on Isabelle’s door to pick her up for dinner. I had a special evening planned and I really hoped she would like it. I heard the boys stampeding behind the door like a herd of buffalo as the walls of her home practically shook.
Then the door swung open and revealed that all-too-familiar face again.
“Well hey there, stranger.”
“I’d recognize that rainbow hair anywhere,” I said.
“I hear you’re taking my best friend for a little spin,” she said.
“Bella. Cut it out,” Isabelle said.
My eyes looked over her shoulder and caught sight of her and my heart stopped. She looked incredible. Her white blouse was tight around her torso and dipped low, showcasing her beautiful bosom that called to the palms of my hands. She had on this intricate yellow and blue skirt skirt that fluttered around her legs before stopping just above her knees. She had on a pair of boots with stitching that matched her skirt, and I felt the nape of my neck heat with a flush I knew would trickle into my cheeks if I didn’t look away.
“Ready to go?” Isabelle asked.
I cleared my throat and nodded my head. I was afraid if I spoke, my voice wouldn't work.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Bella said.
“That doesn't leave much,” Isabelle said.
“And you take care of her while she’s with you. Don’t make me come searching with a shotgun,” Bella said.
“I’ll take very good care of her. Scout’s Honor.”
“And Isabelle?”
“Yep?”
“Don’t worry about these boys. You know they’re safe with me.”
I watched her hug her friend’s neck before I offered her my arm.
“Ready to go?” I asked.
“Now I am. Where are we headed?” she asked.
“First, across the road. Then, into my truck.”
She giggled as we started off her porch and my eyes took in the beauty of her smile. I hadn’t been this excited to take a woman to dinner since I’d met my late wife, and the feeling came rushing back with a force that left me breathless. I opened her car door and helped her in, then jogged around and slid into my seat. I held her hand as we silently rode through town, making our way to the place I had made sure had room for us.
And when we pulled up to it, her eyes widened with delight.
“I love this place. I never get to come to this place often enough,” she said.
“I haven’t been, but I hear 600 Degrees has the best beer and wings in town,” I said.
“And here I thought you were going to take me to some fancy tablecloth restaurant.”
“Well, I did try. But Georgetown doesn't have any of that. So I settled for what people told me were the best wings I could get anywhere in Texas. I don’t know about you, but I have a soft spot for beer and wings.”
“I could live off the stuff and never grow tired of it.”
“You just keep getting better and better,” I said as I brought her hand to my lips.
“So how are things going at the construction company?” she asked.
I pulled out her chair and offered for her to sit down.
“It’s actually going well. Not sure if it’s what I want to do for the rest of my life, but it’s getting me by for now.”
“The big bad CIA man not want to build houses for the rest of his life?”
“Honestly? I enjoy working on the machines that break down more than the houses themselves.”
“Why don’t you get a job at a mechanic shop or something?”
“I’m surprised you didn’t suggest I start my own business,” I said.
“Is that something you want to do? Because you are looking at a very good fountain of knowledge.”
“Oh I’m looking at something good, all right,” I said, winking.
Her cheeks tinted and I had to bite back a groan of satisfaction.
We put in our drink and food orders as the drone of the restaurant grew louder. I was thankful we were tucked into a corner, but the idea of going somewhere quiet did sound appealing. I wasn’t a fan of having to shout over everyone just to talk with Isabelle, but I figured my plan for our after-dinner festivities would help me out in that department.
Hopefully she wouldn’t find it too forward.
“What is your favorite thing to do around here?” I asked.
“That would probably be the walking trails on the outskirts of town. Taking walks and being in nature helps to settle me down,” Isabelle said.
“So you enjoy being out in nature?”
“I’d live in it, if I could. Maybe when I retire one day I’ll build myself a cabin in the woods and live out my days there.”
“I think you’re the only woman capable of doing exactly that.”
“I’d have to build a nice one, though. Maybe put a hot tub out on the deck.”
“I’ve always been a fan of a nice hot tub. Or a nice steam room.”
“I could install one of those walk-in showers with the built in misters that make it seem like a steam room,” she said.
“Can you really wire up something like that?”
“Are you really asking me if I can?”
“You’re remarkable, you know that?” I asked.
“What? Because I can play with the big boys?”
“Because you can do it while raising two boys into good men and keeping your head above water.”
I held out my hand for hers and she smiled, slipping her palm against mine willingly. I closed my fingers around her hand and stroked her skin, watching as her eyes fell to the connection.
