Work didn’t stretch his brain anymore, hadn’t in a long time. How could it? He’d been working construction since he’d been fourteen and old enough to figure out his mom struggled to pay the bills. Autism, politics...another story entirely. He had learning curves there that challenged him, distracted him.
If he went inside that building to inspect ductwork and walk the demolition that would start tomorrow, he’d be trapped inside his head to obsess on the way he felt.
Suddenly Will wanted to be anywhere but here tonight.
Or in his own head.
Didn’t matter that he had five hundred things to do in the two hours until he needed to pick up his son from Guadalupe’s.
Tossing the toolbox in the passenger side, Will circled the truck and got behind the wheel. He’d been going nonstop since Kenzie had signed on to Family Foundations. He’d barely seen his son, who was the entire point of all this work.
Right now Will wanted to focus on walking through Sam’s bedtime routine, checking off scheduled items one by one as he worked through the steps that would get him into bed to read a story—his reward for completing the tasks he found so distasteful.
Brushing his teeth had once topped that list, but climbing into bed when he’d rather be swinging in the backyard or tear-assing around the house or tackling his favorite game on the computer had been a close second.
Once these daily tasks had been a battlefield for power struggles. Now they were performed perfunctorily, barely noticed by Sam, who had grasped the pattern of events that needed to take place before bed. Daily tasks that were also a tangible reminder of all the progress he’d made.
Sometimes Will really needed that reminder.
Like tonight.
Shoving the truck into gear, he drove out of the parking lot, ignoring the sight of Kenzie’s midsize, midpriced sedan in a neutral color that wouldn’t easily show dirt. Exactly the sort of car he would have guessed her to drive. Practical. Economical. But Will couldn’t miss the pricey BMW parked beside it. Subtly showy like the man who drove it.
And why did Will even care about Nathanial Wright?
Will didn’t. Not beyond the fact that Nathanial had intruded on a close moment when sparks had been flying. Will and Kenzie had been so close he could smell the scent of her hair, something citrusy and fresh.
Not beyond the fact that Kenzie had practically tripped over herself reassuring her not-at-the-moment boyfriend that nothing noteworthy had been going on.
Which meant she’d been as caught up in those flying sparks as much as Will had been.
And Will didn’t care about Nathanial Wright beyond the fact that the man had gone out of his way to get territorial, putting an arm around Kenzie to warn Will his redheaded not-at-the-moment date was off-limits.
Which meant Nathanial had noticed something was up with Kenzie, too.
Will wasn’t sure what bugged him most—that sparks had been flying and he’d only just noticed? He wasn’t sure why that should surprise him. Not only was he overworked, overtired and overwhelmed most of the time, but he hadn’t dated a woman since Melinda.
Once women had come easily to him, the same way everyone else had. Of course, he didn’t seem to have a clue how to keep a woman around for the long haul. Nowadays he was so distracted, his brain clogged with a thousand things, that he’d been enjoying interactions with Kenzie and hadn’t even noticed.
But when he thought back on the past weeks, he hadn’t missed an opportunity to be around her, not from the first time he’d run into her in the park. He’d seized every chance to make an impression, to talk to her, right down to dropping everything after a meeting with the council to rush over here tonight after he’d picked up her email.
No, he didn’t want those improperly covered wires to create a problem, but he could have at least changed out of his suit.
Will had been going through the motions automatically and hadn’t once considered what he was doing. Why?
That question wasn’t so hard to answer.
He didn’t need more complications in his life right now.
He’d sworn off women the day he’d been granted custody of Sam. He had a son who needed him, and Will wasn’t stupid. How many divorces did he need to go through before admitting he wasn’t doing something right?
Exactly two.
He had no clue if he wasn’t choosing his wives correctly or if he was terminally flawed so no woman could stand to be around him for long. He did know that he’d done things very differently with Melinda than he had with his first wife, Trish, his high school girlfriend.
And wound up with the exact same outcome—asking a judge to dissolve the marriage.
He didn’t have time to figure out what the problem was. He didn’t have time to miss sex, either, so no problem there. Wheeling into traffic, he cut off an SUV that was speeding.
Guilt tugged at him. Not for the lady he’d just forced to brake. She’d needed to slow down. But he had a good two hours to work. He could have at least inspected the ducts that had been installed today. Not that he thought there would be a problem. He’d had a good crew of guys on the job.
Then again, he’d thought he could trust his electrician to oversee the kid with the drywall, too.
Will waited until he met the pace of the traffic before grabbing his cell phone. Speed dial. More waiting.
Then Bob’s gruff voice came on. “Normal folks are sitting down to dinner after a hard day’s work.”
“Not talking normal here. We’re talking you or me. And I know you’re not sitting down to dinner after a hard day’s work.”
“What? You don’t think I did a hard day’s work?” A gruff chuckle followed the question.
Bob Atteberry had been a part of Will’s life as far back as he could remember. A friend of Will’s father, they’d been navy buddies first then union buddies and poker buddies. Bob had been a frequent visitor at the house when Will’s parents had still been married.
After Will’s father had decided a wife and three sons required more effort than he was willing to expend, he’d gone AWOL from family life. That’s where the friendship ended. Bob hadn’t approved of the way his buddy had selfishly shirked his responsibilities, leaving his family behind to struggle.
Bob simply never left their lives. He was good people, as Mom was so fond of saying. He was always around for fishing or ball games or slipping Mom some money so Santa could show up on Christmas or giving Will his first job on a construction site.
In turn, Bob, who didn’t have a family of his own, was always included in holiday feasts, where Mom would cook his favorite foods and pack up enough leftovers to last a week.
“You work hard enough, Bob,” Will admitted. “But you’re not sitting down to eat. You’re wolfing a sandwich over the sink.”
A disgruntled snort came over the line, but Bob didn’t bother denying anything. Guilty as charged. “What do you want, city honcho?”
“You might want to mention to your nephew what can happen when we hang drywall over electrical receptacles. Explain to him what a utility knife can be used for.”
“He didn’t.” Not a question. “Idiot.”
“Funny, that’s what I said. Not to him, though. He’s a good kid and eager to learn. I’m reserving opinion on his attention span for the time being, if you don’t mind.”
Another grunt. “I won’t remind you then about some of the boneheaded things you pulled.”
“Good, don’t.
I do not need to be reminded.” Particularly tonight when he was already feeling stupid enough about a very lovely redhead who smelled faintly of tangerines.
“How’s the building going other than the drywall?”
“Not fast enough. Starting to dismantle that big hall tomorrow.”
“Shit, that’s a job. Not putting my nephew on it, I hope.”
“To haul debris, maybe.”
There was a beat of silence. “Sounds like you’ve got an awful lot of work ahead. You stand a chance in hell of meeting that deadline?”
Will watched the numbers on the pedestrian walkway count down. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. The traffic light turned green and he hit the gas and was on his way again. “If everything goes smoothly and nothing unexpected comes up.”
“Yeah, like that ever happens.”
“Don’t piss in my cereal, Bob.”
“Well, I hope you don’t die trying.”
Will could practically see the burly, grizzle-haired foreman rolling his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere if I’ve got a choice in the matter.”
“Listen, kid. You know I’m available when you need me. I can get some of the other guys, too. I know they’ll help. You’ve passed around your fair share of jobs through the years, and that counts for something. So just say the word.”
The edginess that was making every nerve feel raw eased up a bit. “Thanks, Bob.”
“All right, then. I’ll give my nephew a utility knife and tell him what to do with it.”
“Sounds good. I’ve got plenty to keep him busy.”
“You call, Will. I’m serious.”
Will found himself smiling. “Count on it.”
“Good. Say hi to your mom.”
That was that. Not even a goodbye. But Bob didn’t have to say goodbye because he made a habit of saying hello when he was needed. Good people, just like Mom always said.
Will was breathing easier when he finally pulled into Guadalupe’s driveway. He wasn’t going to think about why sparks were flying between him and Kenzie because he didn’t need any more damned distractions. Obviously Kenzie wasn’t interested in distractions, either, because as Will thought more about it, he had to wonder where all her careful distance fit in. When had the sparks started melting through that invisible wall she’d had around her? That wall had been firmly in place until he’d sent the flowers, at least.
Flowers. Where in hell had that idea come from? Last time he’d sent a woman flowers he’d been asking her on a date. But it had seemed like the perfect thing to do at the time.
Because he wasn’t thinking.
He pulled in behind the van Guadalupe and her daughter shared to drive Rafael around. Today’s work gear and the notes from the council meeting cluttered the backseat in the extended cab, so he made a place for Sam to sit then went to get his son.
He knew the instant the door opened and he saw Gabriella’s expression that something was up. “Today a good day?”
A lovely woman who wasn’t any taller than her mother even if she was considerably smaller, Gabriella leveled big doe eyes his way. “Mom said it wasn’t the worst.”
Translated: not the worst meant not the best. He braced himself. “Anything happen?”
As if on cue, a familiar cry rose on crescendo from the rear of the house.
Gabriella stepped aside and held the door open so Will could enter. “Sam’s mom dropped in. She had a meeting nearby and brought him and Rafael gifts.”
“Did she call first?”
Gabriella shook her head, so careful to keep opinions off her face.
Will sighed, a dull throb starting in his temples. A nice gesture well meant by a loving mother but just didn’t seem to get that she couldn’t strong-arm normal interactions on her son. Will tried not to respond negatively. Vocally, at least.
“I’m sorry, Gabriella.”
She gave a little smile, both sad and knowing. “Go on in, Will. Mom could use backup. Jorge has Rafael.”
Backup. Translated, it meant a meltdown, and not a tantrum. And when one of the kids got worked up, the other was usually right behind him. Will hoped Jorge had whisked Rafael away fast.
“Good. Thanks.”
The playroom had once been an office, but had been cleared out and set up similarly to a classroom at Angel House. A place without distractions, where Guadalupe could get the boys on task then easily clear the deck when the time came to transition them to the next activity, whether it was eating or playing or practicing their latest skills.
Will had barely cracked the playroom door when he saw Guadalupe standing alone, whispering Sam’s name in a calm voice that belied the way she wrung her hands anxiously.
That told Will everything he needed to know. She was well trained to handle the behaviors that could crop up during the course of a day, and the fact that she’d backed off meant she was keeping an eye on Sam to make sure he didn’t get hurt, but was also allowing him to wind down on his own.
He slipped inside and shut the door quickly. He found Sam red-cheeked and sweaty as he flapped his arms and prowled the perimeter of the room at a run, around and around and around. His little jaw was rigid from the way he ground his teeth and his gaze fixed on the ground in front of him, unfocused. He didn’t seem to notice Will had even entered.
He let out a shriek that made Guadalupe startle and wring her hands even more. But another revolution and he let out that same shriek when he passed by the window again.
“They had a really nice visit.” Guadalupe met Will’s gaze with a strained expression. “Melinda bought both boys beautiful gifts. They loved them and played for a long time.”
“Sam got upset when she left?”
Guadalupe nodded.
Of course he had. Bringing gifts seemed to be the only way she knew how to mother her son. And Sam wanted her attention, just like any six-year-old would. But she always sailed out the door again, leaving behind a little boy who didn’t know how to express his anxiety and disappointment in any productive way.
Deanne swore Sam would learn to manage his reactions and if Rafael was any indication, she could be believed. But Sam simply wasn’t there yet.
“Gabriella said Melinda just showed up. I’m sorry. I’ve told her to call first,” Will said in a low voice.
Sam shrieked at the top of his lungs, a frustrated growl that said everything he couldn’t express with words. And his frustration thrust a knife into Will’s heart as it always did.
Guadalupe waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry. I know you have. I’ve told her, also. She was between clients. I made her wait until he finished his snack. I hoped maybe it would help.”
“Good for you. I’ll talk to her again.”
Guadalupe shrugged. Sam yelled. Will’s head throbbed harder.
That time to transition was absolutely essential for Sam to smoothly end one task and start the next. But Melinda couldn’t seem to grasp that she couldn’t simply pop in and out at her convenience—not without considerable fallout.
Will took a deep breath and knelt down, close enough that he could have reached out and touched Sam on a pass. He didn’t try to make contact.
“Hey, buddy,” he said softly. “What’s the problem?”
Like Guadalupe had, Will kept calmly repeating Sam’s name, closing in slowly, nonthreateningly, giving Sam a chance to recognize Will’s presence.
Guadalupe slipped out of the room, and luck was with them tonight because Sam didn’t
get any worse and eventually wound down. Not too bad, all things considered. Any time Will could wait Sam out and didn’t have to intervene because he was out of control and at risk of hurting himself was good. Letting Sam expel those frustrations without anyone adding to them was good.
Now Sam was drenched with sweat and completely exhausted.
“Come on, buddy. Let’s go home.”
Sam could barely keep his eyes open, but he wrestled weakly in Will’s arms.
Guadalupe had returned and knew exactly what Sam wanted. She retrieved the big Transformer-type robot with the adjustable arms and legs, a pricey toy from some upscale toy store like FAO Schwartz. Sure enough Sam wrapped an arm around the robot and stopped fighting sleep.
Guadalupe smiled. “He’s coming along, Will. He’ll be talking soon. You trust me.”
Will managed a smile. He hoped she was right. But between the pounding head and the raw nerves, he couldn’t say he felt encouraged more than angry at Melinda’s unnecessary selfishness.
Not that meltdowns didn’t happen for all kinds of reasons. They did. But a lot of the time, giving Sam a heads-up about what was coming then allowing him enough time to finish up whatever he was doing made all the difference in the world at keeping his stress level down.
It was such a simple thing. Not easy necessarily because waiting took patience and time. But so, so simple.
Will said his goodbyes and carried his exhausted son to the truck. Did he need to take Melinda back to court to get her to comply with one simple request?
He’d considered telling Guadalupe not to allow Melinda to see Sam when she showed up unannounced, but he didn’t want to place that sort of responsibility on Guadalupe, putting her in an uncomfortable situation. Melinda had a right to see Sam. More importantly, she wanted to see Sam. Sam wanted to see his mother. And Will wanted them to see each other.
One simple request. Was it really so much to ask?
Right from the Start Page 13
