by Stella James
I place the items back in the box and set it aside to be dealt with later. I check the time and see that I still have about another thirty minutes before Jamie will be up and needing breakfast. I head down to the basement to the makeshift gym I have set up, it isn’t much but it serves its purpose. A quick run on the treadmill gets my heart rate up and by the time I’m done throwing punches at the heavy bag hanging from the ceiling, I’m dripping sweat and my arms are burning.
I sling a towel over my shoulder and glance over at the door leading to the rental suite that I keep meaning to find a tenant for. I added the suite last minute thinking it would be a good way to earn extra income but I admittedly haven’t been trying very hard to fill it. I make a mental note to print up an ad one of these days and get it taken care of. I head back upstairs just as Jamie walks into the kitchen.
“Hi Daddy,” she says, holding her stuffed lamb to her chest.
“Good morning sweetheart, hungry?” She nods sleepily as I pick her up and hold her close to me, packing her to the counter top of the island in the middle of the kitchen. “Pancakes?”
“Pancakes!” She shouts, instantly awake.
I make us breakfast while Jamie tells me about the dream she had last night about a mermaid and a dog who lived together. It wasn’t that long ago that she used to tell me every morning that she dreamt of Brandi the night before. Those instances are becoming less frequent as time goes by. I don’t think it’s because she misses her mother any less but she was only three when Brandi died and the sting of her absence has become something we are both used to.
When we are finished eating and the dishes are sitting in the sink, I send her to her room to get dressed and ready for school. I head upstairs and take a hot shower, thinking about the long list of things that need to get done and run a mental check of what activities Jamie has going on this week. School will be over soon for the summer and I’m looking forward to breathing a little easier. No sports, no parent council meetings with overly helpful mothers, and no schedule.
I remind myself to drop off the check for Jamie’s spot in summer day camp and the check for her summer ballet classes. I don’t know where this new interest in dance came from but since she missed last season the woman who runs the class told me she could take the summer program to make up for it and enroll in regular classes for her age group in the fall. I have no idea if the whole thing will stick but I told Jamie she could give it a shot.
When I enter the kitchen again I fill my travel mug from the coffee pot and grab Jamie’s lunch out of the fridge. We meet at the front door at 8 a.m. sharp like we do every morning and once I’ve dropped her off at school, I head to our current jobsite.
I’ve worked at Stone Contracting since I was sixteen, starting as a labourer and gradually working my way up and have been a foreman for the last five years. Our family and the Stones have known each other all our lives, my brother Brent and I having gone to school with Cole and his sister Kate since kindergarten. It was never a question to me whether or not I’d stay in Blue Falls after graduation. I had a steady job and no real need to seek my fortune elsewhere. And I had Brandi.
I shake my head out of the past as I approach the newest housing development where my crew is in the middle of building a row of duplexes. Cole’s done well since he took over for his old man, we are very rarely without work and since Stone Contracting has been in Blue Falls for so many years, the company often gets first dibs on the local contracts. I pull over and grab my hardhat from the backseat of my pickup and make my way to where the guys are already well under way. I’ve always enjoyed working with my hands and knowing that it provides a good life for Jamie makes the sweat and dust well worth it.
*
I drive down Main Street and find a place to park a couple blocks from Rosie’s. Cole texted this morning from one of the other sites and asked if I’d meet him for lunch. I cleaned up the best I could but don’t worry too much about it because Rosie’s isn’t the kind of place where people care about a bit of drywall dust. I open the door and see Molly behind the counter, the place is busy as hell and I scan the tables to find Cole sitting at a booth in the corner. I make my way over and take a seat just as a waitress comes by with a coffee pot. She tops up Cole’s mug and hesitates to fill mine before I slide it to the end of the table and look up to give her the okay.
As I glance in her direction my eyes meet a trim waist and generous hips, I take a quick appraisal up past her faded denim shorts and a loose fitting white T-shirt all the way up to a naturally beautiful face and a pair of warm brown eyes. Like whiskey. Her blonde hair is pulled high on her head in a messy kind of knot and I realize by the way I’m craning my neck that she must be tall. Not as tall as my 6’2 frame, but tall enough. I also notice several brightly coloured tattoos among some black and white ones that make up a large piece starting just past her elbow and runs up over her shoulder. The inside of her other forearm also has delicate ink in the shape of a variety of wildflowers making up another large piece.
“You planning on staring at me all day handsome, or did you want to order something?” She says casually. I look down and notice that she’s already filled my cup and I’ve been sitting here like an asshole, blatantly checking her out. I’m irritated and slightly embarrassed by her bold accusation, even if it is accurate.
“Just coffee is fine,” I say.
“You got it, what about for you Cole?”
“I’ll take the special, thanks. And bring one for him too,” he says.
“Whatever you say,” she smiles and gives him a quick wink before she turns her back and heads behind the counter.
Women like her have never made much sense to me. It’s clear that Cole is a married man with a ring on his finger and still she thinks it’s within her rights to flirt. Women looking to stir shit up and have nothing but a good time aren’t the kind of women I’d be wasting my time with, if I were even looking. Which I’m not.
“Eric?”
“Yeah man, what’s up?”
“You with me, or did you wanna go ask her for her number? I can wait,” he says grinning.
“I don’t have time for women like that. Not with Jamie,” I scoff.
“Whatever you say man,” he says, pulling out the blueprints he had tucked beside him.
We go over the revised plans for the next project we’ve got lined up. Everything is on schedule with my crew on our current job so we’ll be able to start and finish the renovations on the elementary school’s gymnasium before school starts back up in the fall. Once we’ve eaten, and I’ve pretended not to watch the new waitress as she makes her rounds, I swipe the bill from Cole and unfold it to see feminine printing across the top of the slip.
Grey 555-8856
What the fuck? I shoot a glance at Cole who seems to be oblivious as he talks on his phone with one of his guys. I stand from the booth and make my way to the till just as our blonde waitress ducks behind the counter and holds out her hand for the twenty I’ve pulled from my wallet.
“I don’t know how they do things where you’re from, but this is a small town and not all married men are willing to step out with a side piece.”
“Excus-“
“You can keep this bill and cut the bullshit, my buddy is married. Happily,” I say, sliding the bill with her name and number on it across the counter between us.
I expect her to be embarrassed for her behaviour or even a bit angry that I called her out on it and foiled her plan to try and start something with Cole, but when I look up and meet her brown eyes, she’s smiling at me.
“Hey, we all set?” Cole says, picking the bill up and glancing at it. “Thanks Grey, I’ll pass your number on to Lily.”
“No problem,” she says. “Tell her I said hello.”
“Will do, have a good one.”
“You too. And you,” she says looking me dead in the eye. “You have a wonderful afternoon,” she says giving me the same quick wink she gave Cole earlier. What the fuck is go
ing on.
I follow Cole outside and before he can head in the opposite direction to where his truck is parked I ask him if he knows the waitress.
“Grey? Yeah, Lily and I came in with the boys the other night for dinner and her and Lily kind of hit it off. Lily asked me to grab her number today so they could get together. Why?”
Shit.
“Nothing man,” I mumble. “I’ll catch you later.”
I head to my truck feeling like an asshole and mentally prepare myself for the healthy dose of crow that I’ll be eating the next time I see that woman.
*
After Jamie is bathed and I’ve tucked her in, I find myself sitting on the back deck in a cheap lawn chair, sipping a beer and staring out at the thick trees that line the property. When Jamie was born, Brandi and I had nothing but a small basement apartment to bring her home to. When she died we were halfway through building this place, finishing it just over a year ago. Brandi wasn’t too keen on living in the sticks as she called it, which was evident in her lack of involvement in pretty much the entire building process. So I did my best to make the house as neutral as possible for Jamie and I.
I push my negativity down and remind myself that I’m here and she’s not. Remembering shit we argued over is pointless. I down the last of my Bud and lean back in the wicker chair, trying to remember the last time I was with a woman. I don’t often torture myself with the pathetic reminder that it’s been well over two years since I felt a woman, but for whatever reason my mind is wandering tonight. There was no one for an entire year after Brandi died, not until I caved and found myself at Mac’s drinking too much and so damn desperate that I wound up back at some woman’s motel room who was passing through town. We used each other well and good and I took off the minute I sobered up enough to realize that I didn’t even know her name.
It’s not that I want to be single forever, but casual sex is nearly impossible in a small town, especially when you have a kid. And finding something that could turn serious is even harder. I won’t waste my time on someone who can’t fit the bill where Jamie’s concerned. She needs someone maternal who can be there for her in all the ways that I can’t. Someone who has their shit together.
I let out a deep breath and sit forward, resting my head in my hands. Fuck. I can’t think about this shit anymore tonight, it’s exhausting. I chuck my empty bottle in the bin beside the patio door and head inside. I check on Jamie and lock up for the night before I head upstairs to bed, trying as I go to mentally rid myself of any and all selfish desires.
Chapter 3
Grey
There’s something about the sound of a dryer and the smell of fresh laundry that relaxes me. That’s what I’m thinking as I sit in a bright green vinyl chair in the Blue Falls laundry mat while I wait for my second load to dry. I’ve been in town for just over a week now and each day it gets easier to forget where I came from and the life I left behind. My fresh start is in full swing and I feel…happy. I’m still staying at the motel which is a problem I am going to have to fix soon, the room is fine but I miss not being able to cook my own food and have my own space beyond a room with a bed. I’ll check the local paper tomorrow when I have a break at work.
I’ve been on steady day shifts for the last half of this week, beginning at 7 a.m. and ending at 3 p.m. which is perfect. My work day ends and I still have time for errands or exploring. Today’s particular errands include laundry, shopping for non- perishable food that I can keep in my room and maybe a stop at Olive’s Café for one of these scones I’ve been hearing so much about.
I continue to watch people walk by as I sit near the large window. I’m mindlessly staring just as Flume’s Never Be Like You starts drifting through my ear buds when I spot him. The guy from the diner who thought I was trying to hit on his married friend. God, men like him drive me crazy. Heaven forbid a woman be friendly just to be friendly. I’m sure his judgement had something to do with my appearance as well. Not that I’m some kind of asshole on a soapbox, but I’m tall at 5’10 and I have distinct curves and for whatever reason some people think just because I have tattoos that I’m the typical party girl type when that couldn’t be further from the truth. I don’t even drink. And I have tattoos because I think they’re pretty, not because I have something to prove.
As if reading my mind, mystery man looks up and meets my gaze through the window. It really is too bad he’s such a dick because he is, of course, gorgeous. His brown hair is thick and a bit mussed like it was the other day and the accompanying shadow of scruff on his jaw suits him. He’s tall, probably over 6 feet and well built. He’s similarly dressed like how he was the last time I saw him, work boots and faded jeans. Today instead of a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he’s wearing a plain black T-shirt that sticks to his broad chest and showcases his muscular arms. Like I said…gorgeous.
I’m still watching him as he walks towards the laundry mat and comes through the front door. He turns and heads straight towards me just as I pull the buds from my ears and stand from my chair. I walk around the bank of dryers and open the door of the one I’m using. Once I’ve gathered the clothes into my basket and stand back up, he’s beside me, staring.
“Can I help you?”
His blue eyes hold mine and I feel the tiniest bit of a shiver tip toe down my spine. I am a woman after all.
“Grey, right?”
“That’s right,” I say as I dump the basket out on the table beside me and begin folding my clothes. I know there’s a few pairs of cotton panties in the heaping pile but I’m sure this guy realizes that I own underwear so I don’t see the point in being shy about it. Also, he seems like a bit of a stick in the mud and the possibility of making him squirm is just too good to pass up.
“Look, I wanted to say sorry for the other day. For how I spoke to you at the diner.”
“Oh, you mean when you assumed that I was trying to pick up Cole, who is very much married? Is that what you’re talking about?”
“Yeah,” he exhales. “I didn’t mean to offend you or whatever.”
“Or whatever?” I set down the tank top I’ve just folded and turn to face him entirely. “Can I ask why you thought I was trying to pick him up? Did I do something in particular?” I know I’m baiting this guy and giving him a hard time but the fact that he is stumbling over this apology tells me that he isn’t often on the giving end of one.
“You, well you smiled at him and winked or whatever and then I saw your number on the bill and I assum-“
“Oh I get it. That makes perfect sense actually,” I say, leaning in towards him. “I don’t know if you know this, but in some cultures, smiling and winking is actually a sign of a female in heat,” I whisper. “So I get it. Really I do.” I offer a sympathetic smile and turn back to my folding.
“Okay, you know what, I came in here to apologize. I’m sorry I made an assumption,” he says. “Won’t happen again.”
“Consider your mission fulfilled,” I say simply, shrugging my shoulders.
I look out the corner of my eye and see his mouth open again before he thinks better of it and turns on his heel, going back the way he came. I take a quick glimpse at his backside as he strides towards the door. Such a shame.
*
There’s finally a break in the morning rush so Molly pours us each a cup of coffee and we slide into the corner booth while the last couple of tables finish up their meals. I flip through this week’s paper, straight to the ad section and scan it for possible rentals.
“Oh, here’s one! Room for rent, everything included but groceries,” I murmur as Molly leans across the table.
“You don’t want to live there honey, trust me,” she says.
“Why not?”
“Because Mrs. Henderson is a nosy old cow, that’s why. She’s been trying to rent out her spare bedroom for over a year but no one will take it. She wants too much for it anyways.”
Great. The pickings are pretty slim unless I want to pay for a t
hree bedroom apartment, which seems outrageous. I flip to the back page and spot a couple of possibilities which I mark with my pen. I’ll have to phone after work and get more details. The door jingles just as I take my first sip of coffee and in walks a very tall man in a beige uniform. He’s quite good looking and I briefly enjoy the visual before I glance down and see that he’s carrying a tiny baby in a car seat who can’t be more than a few months old. A woman comes in right behind him and the way Mr. Uniform smiles at her makes me want to swoon.
“Grab a seat wherever you like, Brent,” Molly says. “And make sure you unstrap that baby because I want some cuddles.”
“You got it Molly, two coffees please,” he says.
“I got it,” I tell her. “Go maul that baby.”
I tuck the newspaper under the front counter and grab the freshest pot of coffee off the double burner. Just as I approach the table, the woman lifts the baby from the car seat and passes him over to Molly who sighs with content and nestles him against her chest.
“Grey this is Brent and Hanna Doyle,” she says as they both smile up at me. “They both grew up here, and this little stinker is Max, their first baby.”
“It’s nice to meet you both, and he is adorable,” I say.
