by Kate Gilead
“Oh my God,” Marie groans at one point. “This is the best cook-out EVAR!”
We all pause in our silent gobbling to grin at her, and each other.
“I know, right? Look at us…we’re like…like… animals at a kill!” Brenda says.
“Or…zombies!” Amanda agrees. “It’s like a zombie video game around here right now!”
“Uuunnnggg!” Brenda moans. She rolls her eyes up into her head and shoves a forkful of food into her face, letting some of it drop out of her mouth back onto her plate, eliciting groans and laughter.
“Glad there are no boys around right now,” I say, grinning and shaking my head.
“Having Rob here wouldn’t stop Brenda from doing that,” Amanda says.
“Why should it?” Marie say. “Why can’t we just be ourselves? We don’t have to act like Princesses all the time, yanno.”
“Yeah but we do behave differently when we’re alone than when men are around,” I point out.
“Yeah, I guess. I probably wouldn’t fart in front of, say, Mark, if he were here.” Marie allows.
“Yes you would,” Amanda says. Marie grins and shrugs. “But would you trade this dinner for a movie with him?” Amanda teases.
“Fuck, no!” Marie yells. “He can get his own damn dinner!”
“Hah! That’s not what she meant but no, I wouldn’t wanna share these potatoes with any hungry guys right now. Because, you weren’t kidding Bren!” I say. “They’re the fucking shit!”
“I know, right?” she says. “I mean, it’s crazy! It’s surreal! Who knew onion soup mix was so full of magical goodness?” She takes a deep breath, eyes full of mischief, grease and bits of food stuck to her lips. “Onion SOUP mix?” she screeches to the sky. “Onion CRACK mix, more like!”
“Mmmm! To Onion Crack Mix!” Amanda says, holding her drink up.
“Hear, hear,” we all agree, and we drink up, giggling like idiots.
We eat every last thing in sight, not stopping until we’re all groaning and jokingly blaming each other for our own over-indulgence.
It isn’t until clean up that we find out the true meaning of Brenda’s name for the potato dish.
We end up having a screeching, giggling, mock-serious fight over the crusty, burnt, scrumptious remainders of the cooked potatoes and vegetables in the roasting pan. Armed with a spoon each, all clean-up comes to a halt while we scrape the yummy, cooked-on bits out of the pan, laughing until we’re crying, yelling “I’ll cut you for these potatoes!” and pushing each other’s spoons aside like hockey players scrumming for the puck.
Eventually, the Battle of the Crusty Bits is done, the pan scraped clean, dishes washed, dried and put away. Brenda and Marie leash the dogs to take them for an after dinner-walk.
Amanda and I take fresh drinks back out to the patio and settle down on lounge chairs, chatting and watching as the first stars of the night twinkle in the evening sky.
We talk about her husband Nick, who’s Brenda’s much-older brother, and their son Bryan, who’s almost two years old now. “I never thought I’d be a wife and mother so young,” she says, a tad wistfully. “But it’s a good life. It’s hard work, but the family…they’re all there for me. For us. We’d be so screwed without ‘em!”
“Yeah. Marriage and motherhood…well, you know that’s all I dreamed of, growing up. I never really wanted a career.”
“I remember. When we were kids, I talked about being an English professor. Brenda talked about breeding dogs and working with animals. Marie was always gonna be a race-car driver. But you…you always talked about what you were gonna name your kids. Hah! Life sure is weird.”
“Sure is. It’s like you and I traded the lives we wanted or something.”
Amanda stretches her legs out in front of her and leans back in her lounge chair. “I never thought I’d end up working in construction, that’s for sure. Nick says I can stay home and just raise Bryan, if I want. And it’s almost time to think about giving him a sibling. But I…I dunno. I find that I like being busy, I like being in the thick of things, sometimes.” She smiles and takes another sip of her drink. “Speaking of which, is work still insane for you at Delcroft? Last time we talked, it sounded awful. You were saying you’re not sure if you wanted to stick it out.”
“Yes,” I say, leaning back. Looking up, I spy a satellite crossing the purple twilight sky, so far up it’s barely visible. “It’s still crazy. Stressful. But…I’m almost done my probation period now. And since the last week or so, it’s been getting easier. Like, things are clicking into place now.”
“Maybe you’re finally getting used to it.”
“I think so. I knew it’d take time, but I…didn’t think it’d be this hard. I didn’t think the company would be so fucked up!”
What I really want to do is tell her about my relationship with Blake! I wish I could just break down and tell her––tell all of them, my closest friends––what’s been going on. But I think it’s best to wait. Just in case things don’t….well, either way, just in case.
Besides, I know as soon as I mention his Angel, they’d tell me to ditch him. Walk away from him before it’s too late. Before he hurts me. They’re my friends and they wouldn’t want me to suffer.
Problem is, I’m not ready to walk away.
“I’ve heard some stuff about Delcroft,” she’s saying. “Nick says they’re shady as hell.”
“Shady? You mean, incompetent? It’s family-owned. Blake…my boss…says there are too many chiefs, so to speak.”
I can’t talk about our relationship yet, but I can tell her about how they plan to shaft me and Blake. So I do.
“Wow, that’s shitty, Jenny! I wish I could say I’m surprised. But Nick says these people are corrupt to the core. Not just incompetent. Corrupt. I mean, obviously, what with that whole kickback thing going on.”
“Kickback thing? What kickbacks? For contracts?”
“Maybe that too, I dunno. But I’m talking about safety equipment. You must know about that?”
I shake my head.
“What? You haven’t heard? Someone on the inside is taking money to distribute substandard equipment. Counterfeits. Nick thinks it all originates with Asian gangsters. Mafia.”
“Mafia? What the hell?”
“The version I heard is this: They produce substandard versions of safety equipment for a fraction of the cost of American-made goods. They introduce these goods to the Western markets by hook or by crook. A massive company like Delcroft saves millions, plus…someone gets a big chunk of change for looking the other way. Tax-free change.”
“I didn’t know that. Blake mentioned that there are bad products on site sometimes. The other day he had to go around on one of our sites, taking sub-par hooks back from new workers. But…he seemed to think it was just an error. He didn’t mention anything about kickbacks.”
“Strange. I know he knows about it, because he was at our shop talking to Nick about it. Week before last.”
“He was? You sure?”
Why didn’t he mention any of this to me?
“Yes,” she laughs. “Big, hunky guy. Deep voice. Eyes that look right through you. Hottie!” She smiles. “They were in Nick’s office for a long time. Nick told me about it when Blake left.”
“Really now? That’s very interesting. But…I don’t see how anyone could get away with kickbacks or counterfeit hardware. All accidents are investigated by OSHA. There are serious consequences for poor practices or shitty equipment. Huge fines, or even jail time if the company can’t show they did their due diligence.”
“Oh, everyone know the rules. And the consequences. They just don’t care. Sometimes, there’s too much money involved. Listen, Nick found some unrated stuff on one of our sites, too. But we do care. We’re very concerned about it.”
“I feel like everyone should be concerned about it! I mean, it’s a no-brainer!”
“Yeah, that’s what you’d think. But money makes people psychotic sometime
s, Jen. They take risks and do stupid things because…money. But Bennett Contracting isn’t Delcroft. We’re small potatoes. One fine could sink us. Litigation could sink us.”
She turns to face me, tucking her her feet under her. “Nick’s thinking of hiring a dedicated safety staff. He has too much to do as it is, and a lot of that work has been falling to the foremen. But we need help. We cannot afford any accidents.”
“Shit, Amanda. I didn’t realize it was that bad.”
“Oh, it’s a huge deal. For Delcroft, though, it’s just a cost of doing business. A tax-write off. For us, or any smaller contractor, an accident or a lawsuit could be the end.
She looks at me speculatively. “Say…I wonder if…hmmm.”
“What?”
“Well, I’d have to talk to Nick but I wonder if we could hire you. As a safety officer. Maybe, you and Blake, both. We might not be able to pay what Delcroft is paying, but…”
“I dunno, ‘Manda. We’d have to give that a lot of thought. You know what they say about working for friends.”
She nods. “Yeah, but…there are only so many qualified people in Maple Mills who could do the job. We’d have to headhunt someone anyway. Maybe we could work something out.”
I reach over and squeeze her hand. “It’s a lovely idea, but…yeah. We’d have to really give that some thought.”
“Of course. But, at least, we do care about our workers. We know them all, know their families. Delcroft has never had a good rep. They’re the biggest construction employer in the region but everyone who works for them seems to hate working there.” We share an uneasy look. “There’s bad juju going on there, Jen,” she says.
“No shit,” I say. “I just can’t understand why on Blake wouldn’t tell me about these counterfeits himself.”
She twirls her hair, thinking. “I dunno. It’s a touchy thing, maybe he doesn’t want to slander them unless he’s sure. Maybe, he’s trying to protect you.” She looks at me a little guiltily now. “And, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Nick seems to think that there could be an element of danger involved.
“Oh, come on, Amanda! That’s pretty melodramatic, isn’t it?” But another spear of unease slices through me. “I wonder if this is why Blake was so insistent on me quitting Delcroft with him.”
“Maybe. I dunno, Jenny. All I can says is, Nick’s very worried about it. Honestly, I assumed you already knew.”
“Well, I’m glad you told me. You think Nick will mind that you did?”
“I doubt it. I hope not. Too late now, anyway.”
“Okay. You mind if I talk to Blake about this? I want to know what the hell is going on, and why he hasn’t told me himself.”
“Sure. Let me know how that goes.”
Just then, the patio door slides open and Marie, Brenda and the two dogs come out, back from their walk.
Tiny and Princess trot over, panting, ears back, to collect some loving from Amanda and me, while Brenda brings an armload of firewood to the fire pit.
We help her, piling up enough logs for a nice fire. We pull chairs up, and then watch as Marie piles kindling on top of crumpled newspapers, and then stacks the dry logs on top of that.
She kneels and uses a grill lighter on the newspaper. We all sit back and watch as the fire catches, and then grows, leaping up the carefully stacked logs to a respectable campfire size.
Brenda goes inside to put coffee on and the four of us have coffee and dessert by the fire, laughing, talking and catching up, bathed in its warm and inviting light.
But worry has settled back in my chest and my mind is miles away.
Chapter Twenty
Jenny
It’s a little past midnight and I’m tired. Marie, who was supposed to be my ride home, had too much to drink. Now, she’ll be staying at Brenda’s along with Amanda. I could stay too, but I’m curious about what happened at home tonight, when Blake and his cousin visited. I don’t want to text Mom in case she’s already asleep, but I’m hoping she’ll still be up when I get home.
I end up calling a cab. While I’m waiting for it, I get a text from Blake. My heart kicks up a notch but I don’t want to check it in front of my friends. When the taxi arrives, I say my goodbyes to them, turning to wave as I walk down the driveway.
As soon as I’m in the cab, I pull my phone out.
Blake: Hey sexy. I hope you’re having a fun night out with the girls.
Pause.
Your mom told me she mentioned we were coming over tonight.
Pause.
I miss you. So much to tell you!
Awww!
Me: I’m on my way home. Taking a cab.
Blake: Oh? I’m just leaving your place. I’m in my truck in your driveway.
Pause.
My cousin is passed out in your spare room.
Sounds like he’s already getting comfy. Great, just great. Well, better play it cool.
Me: I wasn’t expecting you guys to hang with my mom that long.
Blake: Me neither. But, they got talking. He likes it here.
Me: Oh. Well, that’s good. I guess.
Blake: You don’t sound too enthusiastic.
Pause.
It’s not a done deal yet. But never mind that. Did I mention, I miss you? I want to see you.
Me: Aren’t we still on for tomorrow night?
Blake: Yes. But…how about I wait for you? I could see you when you get here. I’d come pick you up, but…your friends don’t know about me yet. Do they?
Me: No. The cab’s on the way anyhow.
Then:
Blake: I can’t wait to kiss you.
My heart jumps. Oh God. I’ve been doing so well, making myself scarce, the last two days. Being busy and unavailable. It’s been a good couple days too. I should continue with that…make him wait for our planned meeting tomorrow. I…yes, I should stay strong and not give in just for the promise of a kiss.
Me: Okay.
And…boom, I fold without a fight, my traitor thumbs typing what my heart really wants.
What I want so much, I can feel it in the tips of my breasts.
And elsewhere.
Blake: Awesome! Jenny girl…it’s ridiculous how much I miss you.
Be cool Jenny be cool be cool…
Me: I miss you too.
Without realizing I was holding it, I let my breath out.
Blake: See you in a bit then.
The taxi stops in front of the darkened house. Blake’s truck sits in the driveway, next to my car. Blake is a shadowy form, sitting motionless in the front seat.
I pay the driver and he pulls away. I walk to the passenger side door of the truck. Blake leans over and opens the door for me.
The interior light comes on and I can’t help but smile when I see his own wide, happy grin greeting me.
“Hello, beautiful,” he murmurs, and my heart just about goes nuts in my chest.
Shakily, I climb into the passenger seat. I pull the door shut quietly behind me. The interior light goes out.
He slides across the seat and takes me in his arms, burying his face in my hair. “Mmmm,” he murmurs. “It’s so good to see you. How are you, sweetheart?”
“I’m good,” I say. “You?”
One of his hands cups my chin and his lips find mine for a languorous series of kisses. A slow, soft nibble-kiss, tongue just touching my lips, then he retreats.
“Mmmm,” we both breathe. “I’m good, now, too,” he sighs.
Panties about melted, I lean my head against his. “We shouldn’t do this right here. It’s late but, someone might have seen me getting into the truck.”
“I don’t give a shit if people know about us anymore, Jennifer,” Blake says. “Fuck ‘em. Fuck Delcroft, too. We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“About Delcroft, actually…”
“Screw those dirtbags. Let’s talk about that later. K?” He nudges my face with his, one arm around my waist, while his other hand holds one of mine, his thumb restle
ssly caressing my skin. His lips find my cheek and trail towards my mouth, finding it waiting.
We kiss deeply again.
“Babe? Now that you’re here, you’re crazy if you think I’m gonna wait until tomorrow to be with you.” He grins. “I want you to come to my hotel room with me right now. We got connecting rooms, but Angel will be staying the night here.”
I freeze.
Angel?
Angel’s staying the night here?
What?
“Angel? She’s here? What do you mean, Angel’s here? In my house?”
He draws his head back and blinks at me in surprise.
“She? Angel’s not a she, he’s a he. He’s my cousin. My cousin, Angel.”
Angel’s not a…Angel’s his cousin…?
Angel’s a…he.
What.
The.
Hell?
“You…your cousin’s name is Angel?” My voice is faint. “I……wait a sec. Your cousin’s name is Angel?” I hear that I’m repeating myself and make myself say something else. “I mean, your older…male… cousin, the one that had the stroke…? His name is Angel?”
My heart is pounding so hard right now, it’s almost making my vision tremble.
He’s looking at me strangely. “Yes, Jennifer. His name is Angel. I know it’s an uncommon name for a man, but that’s the name his mother gave him.” He shrugs, his eyes twinkling but direct. “She was very young, but….anyway, yes, he’s a man and his name is Angel.”
I stare at him, mouth hanging open.
He raises his eyebrows. “C’mon. It’s not that strange. Angel can be a man’s name. Sometimes. There are men named Angelo. Means the same thing.”
I’m listening but not really hearing him. My mind is replaying what I heard Tuesday night in his parents’ house, trying to hear it again, trying to see if I missed that the first time.
I don’t think I did.
This is the stupidest…I mean, what kind of….fuck! I’ve been torturing myself for days…for nothing.
I throw my head back and laugh. “Oh Christ,” I say. “I’m an idiot.”
He grins quizzically. “What?”
