Life Rewired (Aspen Friends, Book 3)
Page 2
I followed her outside and got into my car, waiting for her to swing her truck around first. I peeked into the backseat again to check on the beasts in their cat carrier. Still sound asleep. They’d be hyper tonight, but I wouldn’t mind. They’d managed the long trip beautifully.
Natalie took us out onto the highway and into town where we turned off into a residential neighborhood. When she parked, I pulled in behind her. I glanced at the house then at the one nearby. This couldn’t be it. This wasn’t a crappy apartment. It wasn’t even a rundown house. This place was beautiful. One of four homes on the street, not big like the others, but a decent size. It couldn’t be the place. We must have gone to Natalie’s house first.
“This is it,” Natalie encouraged me out of the car.
I managed to keep from shaking my head in disbelief. “Looks nice.” I reached into the backseat and grabbed the cat carrier.
“When did you get cats?”
“A year ago. Will the guys mind?” I was going to be sharing the house with two other crewmembers. She tried to give me an accurate picture of the guys, but after taking a step into the house, I could already see that cleanliness wasn’t a priority.
“I doubt they’ll mind. They like my dog.” She shot me a guilty look. “I asked them to do a little straightening before you got here. At least I cornered the master for you.” Her hand waved down the hall past the kitchen. “I was here when the boys landed. They were ready to beat each other senseless to get that room.”
My brow lifted. I’d get the master and she somehow made it okay with the housemates? This was getting better and better.
“You do not want to share a bathroom with those guys,” she explained as she started down the hall to the master.
I set the carrier on the bed and opened its door. Dancer sprang out right away, stretching and licking her paws before sniffing along the bed. Tusk came at me next, bumping against my hand for a scratch. They were both all black with yellow eyes. I’d been leaning toward an orange tabby when a volunteer came by and told me that the all black cats had the hardest time being adopted. The news made me want two of them.
“It’s beautiful.” I looked around a bedroom that was a palace compared to my dinky studio apartment back in Denver. I nearly wept when I saw the five piece bathroom. I couldn’t remember the last time I got to take a bath after a hard day at work.
“We’re remodeling the place after the summer. Glory wants to use it as a vacation rental whenever her family or friends aren’t visiting.”
That must have been the deal she struck. Whatever the terms, I was fine with it. Free rent for the summer for a little work in the fall sounded fine with me. She probably hadn’t told the landlord about my record. I doubted if Glory would be fine with leaving me in her house, even if it wasn’t up to the standard for homes we used to target.
“This place is spectacular. Thanks again.” I should be kissing her feet and agreeing to indentured servitude for not only offering me a job with a livable wage but providing summer housing for free.
“I’m just happy to have you here and on the crew.”
“What are they going to think?” I jerked my thumb toward the other rooms. They couldn’t be thrilled to share a house with a stranger, especially a woman.
“All they care about is steady seasonal work to pay for their skiing habit. Last year, they stayed in a rented trailer for the summer. They wouldn’t care if you had twenty cats.”
The front door crashed open and a guy about my height with curly, blond hair came through. “Yo, Harp! She here?” He pulled up short when he spotted me. His brother smacked into him from behind. The brother was an inch taller with the exact same hair. Same broad nose, wide brow, and strong chin, too.
“Falyn, these are the Sweeney Brothers, Curtis and Cole.” Natalie gestured to them.
“Yo,” the first guy said.
“Whaddup,” the second guy said.
They looked like beach bums without a beach, which might be the definition of a ski bum. They each had dimples on opposite sides of their faces and dark blue eyes. Probably late twenties. Jeez, frickin’ babies I’d be living with, but it was free, bigger than I’d seen in a decade, and if Natalie said they were all right, that was all I needed.
“Hi, guys,” I greeted, surprised when they each thrust a hand at me to shake.
“You like video games?” the one with the left dimpled cheek asked.
“Haven’t had a lot of time for them.”
“We’ve kinda taken over the television out here for showdowns. Hope you don’t mind.” He gestured to the flat screen TV in the living room.
“Fine by me.” I planned to spend most of my free time out on that great wraparound porch or in my huge bedroom. I had my own small television. The guys could take over the rest of the house for all I cared.
“Coolio,” right dimple said.
“Hauling time, Sweeneys,” Natalie told them and started toward the front door.
I was going to protest, but the guys were already out the door. I followed behind. There wasn’t much to bring inside, but I wanted to handle my bike. It was the only splurge I’d made since getting out. The expensive car I had before being caught paid for my legal bills, my less than precious used car, and this amazing bike.
“This it?” Cole, I think, asked.
The backseat and cargo area of my Outback was packed with boxes, but I guess for someone my age, he expected me to be driving a moving truck. Since my ex pillaged my condo as soon as I went in, I had no furniture or many possessions really. If I hadn’t sold my Porsche to pay my legal bills, she probably would have tried to take that, too. It still amazed me to realize just how wrong I’d been about so many things at the time: girlfriend, so-called friends, must-have gadgets, and top of the line everything. None of that mattered. It only took five years in prison and two years on parole to drill that lesson into me.
“I travel light.”
“Coolio,” Curtis said again, grabbing three boxes from the backseat.
I rushed to the back and unhooked my bike from the rack. I wheeled it to the garage door that Cole opened for me. He headed back to grab more boxes than his brother had. At this pace, we’d be done in two trips.
“They’re handy,” Natalie said as she watched them disappear into the house. “Hope they don’t drive you nuts.”
“Please,” I scoffed then realized she didn’t have any idea what I’d lived with. Nuts was a cellmate that chewed sunflower seeds and spit out the shells wherever she wanted in your six-by-nine cell every day. Nuts was a celly that made wine in the toilet water and forced you to wait to use the toilet. Slobs who played video games weren’t going to drive me nuts.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Natalie was suddenly serious. “I wish I’d known—”
I held up a hand. I didn’t need her guilt. She’d stuck by me when she heard what I did. Sent letters and at least one care package a year when everyone but my mom turned away.
We hadn’t even been working together when I got caught. Snitched on, actually. That was hard to get over. If I’d been caught burglarizing a house, I think I could have lived with the sentence. Instead, they’d caught one of the other guys on the crew and he flipped on the rest of us. Still, it was my fault whether I got caught in the act or told on. I’d gotten off track with the friends I was keeping and the people I worked with. I thought I had everything I needed. Turns out, I didn’t have anything I needed or wanted.
“Anyway,” she said, looking away. She’d never asked me why I’d done what I’d done. Never looked at me like I was stupid for doing what I’d done. Everyone else had, even my mom who loved me through all of it. My mom had to know why, needed a viable reason to explain my moronic behavior, but Natalie never did. “I’ll swing by to pick you up tomorrow morning.”
I wanted to protest, but I wasn’t sure I could backtrack to the site. I probably didn’t have enough gas to get there anyway. “See you in the morning.” I gave her a gentle shove
to get her moving. She didn’t need to spend all of her Monday night helping me.
3
Even with the guys playing video games late into the night, it had been quieter than I could remember in years. The paper walls of my lousy apartment never allowed for continuous sleep. Not so here.
When I walked into the kitchen, I found Cole, of the left dimple, making scrambled eggs. Coffee percolated in the maker to his right and bacon sizzled in the pan next to the eggs. He had on a dark green t-shirt with Natalie’s company logo. I was wearing a heather green version of the same. Six others in varying colors sat on my dresser after Natalie left. I would have been happy enough with one. That’s what I used to get on other crews, one large, men’s t-shirt with the company name stamped on the back. These were women’s tshirts that fit and had cool designs to display her company name. Free, too. Every other crew made us buy the shirts we were required to wear, which was another clue that Natalie ran things differently here.
“Morning. You like eggs?” Cole lifted the pan and moved it toward the three plates he’d set out.
“Uh,” I started because I didn’t know how to handle this. Money was tight right now. Putting in for combined groceries with these young guys could blow my grocery budget every week.
“Take him up on it when he cooks.” Curtis joined us then bumped into the into the breakfast bar as he slid a company t-shirt over his head. “We can figure out grocery runs later.”
I shrugged. Natalie had also left groceries for me, the little sneak. I wouldn’t be living on ramen noodles until my next paycheck. “Thanks.” I held out a stopping hand as he reached to add bacon to the eggs he’d just dished onto my plate. “Vegetarian.”
The guys exchanged a look then shrugged. “More for us.”
We sat and ate together, which was a nice change for me. The past two years had been pretty solitary. Nobody really talked on the line at work and my personal time consisted of trying to pick up handyperson work to help pay the rent. A normal breakfast filled with easy conversation was both entertaining and a treat. So far, I was getting a good vibe from them.
“You guys mind if I let my cats wander the house when we’re not here?” I asked when I cleared our plates into the dishwasher.
“No probs,” Curtis said, and it set the tone for our house sharing experience. They were casual and cool with my cats. I’d do what I could to be a decent roommate for them. It was a relief really. Being a shitty roommate bothered me as much as it bothered my roommates and cellmates in the past.
A horn sounded from outside. I finished packing a lunch and shoved my thermos under the facet to fill. On the way out the door, I picked up the five gallon bucket where I kept my limited supply of tools and the new hardhat Natalie had left for me. I shook my free arm and let out a slow breath. Time to start my second chance at a decent life.
Natalie waved me up to the front seat. The guys loaded into the backseat with Natalie’s dog, a cute herding breed that seemed at ease with them and familiar with this morning routine. She got the truck in motion and headed to the end of the street, pulling into the driveway of the nearest house. Before I could ask what we were doing, the front door opened and an Asian woman stuck her head out the door and waved. Natalie waved back but Cole brought down his window and shouted hello.
A black man a little older than the woman appeared beside her and kissed her cheek before making his way to the truck. Was this guy really on Natalie’s crew? He was seventy if he was a day.
“Yo, Owen,” Curtis greeted while Cole went into a long, “Oowenn.”
Natalie introduced us as she backed out of his driveway and got us on the road to the site. The boys yammered the entire drive. By the time we arrived, I could tell they had nothing but respect for Owen and what he could do with woodworking. Interesting crew Natalie had here.
Ten seconds after we stepped out of the truck, someone called out from inside the structure. “Harp’s here!”
The front porch suddenly filled with Miguel, two other Latino guys, and a white dude. All sported various versions of Natalie’s tshirts and looked cohesive as a unit.
“Q-king Owen in the house,” one of the Latino guys called, rushing down the steps to bump fists with the older man.
“New chick,” the white guy said.
“Falyn, this is the crew,” Natalie said introducing each as Luis, Ramón, and Tyler.
“Hey, guys.” I tried for nonchalant. I’d perfected this attitude in prison where it was dangerous to show any emotion when meeting someone.
“Damn glad you’re here,” Luis told me. “No more dealing with Anton the Putz.”
“The electrical subcontractor,” Natalie supplied with a smile. I hoped I lived up to her expectations. Even if all the guys turned out to be assholes, working with Natalie again, living in the beautiful place she arranged, and making a livable wage was enough.
Natalie gathered everyone around the work table with the plans and gave out the day’s instructions. She carefully explained things that were often missed without making it sound condescending or like an order. She, Cole, and I would start wiring the house while the rest of them would get working on the roof. The crew listened intently, a few asked questions, but none of them gave her any grief. She’d told me she hired only the guys she’d liked working with on the crew she came from, but this was a little amazing. Ordinarily someone was grumbling by now.
My group started drilling through the studs where we’d run the wire. It didn’t take long to figure out the cheap drill I’d bought to pick up extra work on the weekends wasn’t going to cut it on a real jobsite. Natalie swapped mine out with hers without a word or letting Cole see her do it. She was saving my ass everywhere now.
After the mid-morning break, we were making good progress on the first floor. Vivian appeared in the doorway, giving Natalie a bright smile and nodding at Cole and me. No kiss for Natalie this time. I hid a grin as I watched them put on their professional faces.
“Will you run through the electrical plans, Viv?” Natalie asked. “We’re picking up the supplies later.”
Vivian walked through each room we’d worked on. They discussed adding more boxes to a few additional locations and asked me about codes and such. She was more than just a designer. She knew what she was doing architecturally, design wise, and on a construction site. I felt a twinge of envy that Natalie had found herself a real winner here.
“Lunch!” someone yelled from outside.
I checked my watch not able to believe the time had flown by so quickly. Days at the chicken packaging plant stretched out endlessly. Cole tore through the room we were in toward the front door. Guys started clanging down the ladders from the roof. Lunch must be a group thing, too.
“Owen barbecues once a week,” Natalie explained, ushering us out the door to the work tent where he’d been slicing reclaimed wood into roofing and siding shingles all morning.
The guys lined up at the grill where Owen was dishing out burgers and brats. It looked good if I still ate meat, but years of being forced to eat meat-like objects in prison turned me into a vegetarian. I started toward my stashed cooler, but Natalie grabbed my arm and shook her head.
“Grilled cheese okay?” Owen called to me.
All but the Sweeney brothers turned to look at me. My mouth dropped, not believing Natalie would remember the one time I mentioned now being a vegetarian. “Great, yeah, thank you, Owen.”
He held out the plate with the grilled cheese sandwich to me. “I can make another if this isn’t enough?”
“Oh, no, thank you. This will be plenty.” I felt a lump form in my throat. This little act of kindness piled on top of everything that Natalie had already done got to me. I didn’t normally get choked up unless I was backed into a corner that I didn’t have the power to get out of. It happened so often in prison and on parole. Getting choked up for a good reason was a new experience for me.
Natalie’s hand squeezed my shoulder. I used to do this to her when we’d wor
ked together. A way to make sure she knew that I had her back among some of the assholes we had to work with. Now she was doing it to me, and I felt the ton of bricks I’d been carrying on my shoulders throughout parole slip away.
I found a bowl of pasta salad and a stack of grilled corn to add to my plate and took a seat next to Cole to enjoy a loud and happy lunch. They talked like they were a group of friends at a bar not just work colleagues. Cursory questions were tossed my way throughout. Natalie obviously hadn’t told them about my record. I felt bad about it for maybe a second. In fact, I felt more like the woman I was when I’d first known Natalie. The woman I’d liked before I became someone motivated by the wrong things.
“Let’s go pick up those wiring supplies,” Natalie said to me as we finished lunch and everyone got back to work. “Head up to the roof, Cole. We’ll grab you when we get back,” she told him and let Owen know where we were going. She looked at me and explained, “Miguel’s a good foreman, but he’s not as good at playing the bad guy if some of them start screwing around. Owen steps in when necessary.”
“Is he onsite every day?” I asked as we loaded into her truck.
“Two days a week. He loves working with wood and grilling, but he’s in his eighties, so he doesn’t have the energy for it every day.”
“Wow,” I said, amazed that he’d even want to be there.
She started the engine and backed out of the drive. “He’s a great guy. His wife, too, but I see Owen a lot more.”
“And they’re my neighbors.”
“Along with his granddaughter and your landlord, yeah.”
I shot wide eyes at her. “The cute strawberry from yesterday plays for our team?”
“Yep.” Nat laughed at my shock.
“Well, damn, that means there are at least six lesbians in town now.”
“More. Viv and Molly can introduce you.”
I caught the mysterious smile she tried to hide as she sailed down Main Street. There must be something about one of them, and for the first time in years, I was actually looking forward to meeting anyone she or her friends wanted to introduce me to.