Love Built to Last

by Lisa Ricard Claro

  “Need me to take the little guy, give you some space?” She nodded toward the dugout and her earrings danced.

  “Nah, I’m good. Thanks, though. We’ve got guy stuff to do this afternoon.”

  “Guy stuff, huh? That must mean a trip to the hardware store so you can ooh and ah over power tools.”

  Cal laughed. “Something like that.”

  “You sure TJ wouldn’t rather hang out at the park with me?”

  “You can ask him.”

  “I think I will.” She made a face at her brother and walked toward the dugout, stopping short when she spotted TJ in animated conversation with Kylie. She looked back at Cal and they shared a grin. Rebecca backtracked. “Looks like he’s growing up on us.”

  “He’s only five. I think he’s more impressed with her batting skills than her gender.”

  “Right. That’s how it starts. Today it’s her batting skills, tomorrow it will be her—”

  “Don’t even go there. I’m not ready for that. Let’s just enjoy his devotion to Batman and Wolverine, shall we?”

  “Ah, yes, his first loves.”

  “Here he comes. Hey, buddy, great game!” Cal held his hand out and waited for TJ to trot over and slap him a high five.

  “Did you see Kylie’s home run? She can sure hit that ball.” TJ’s eyes glowed with admiration.

  “You weren’t too shabby yourself,” Cal said.

  “Not as good as Kylie, though.”

  “Pretty, too,” Grampa Boone boomed at his great-grandson. “Deadly combination, that. A girl with beauty and an impressive RBI.”

  TJ’s nose wrinkled up. “Huh?”

  “Never mind.” Cal ruffled his son’s hair. “Grampa Boone’s just being silly.”

  “Great game, kiddo!” Sada refrained from smothering her only grandchild with kisses, but he suffered the indignity of a healthy hug.

  Big Will offered the boy a high-five and a deliberate wink, which Cal recognized as their secret code encompassing everything from “I love you” to “Don’t tell Gram.”

  “Are you coming back to the house?” Sada’s short legs worked double time to match Caleb’s pace when they began their walk to the parking lot.

  “Not today, Mom. I’ve got some errands to run and an estimate to get started.”

  “What kind of work?” Big Will’s casual tone, too neutral to be benign, triggered a mental alarm that set Cal on high alert.

  “Kitchen renovation.”

  “Old client or new business?”

  “New.” Cal braced for the conversation to come. Hackles already up, he waited for the discussion to take its usual route.

  “Hard to drum up new business in this economy. Be sure you don’t underbid just to get the work.”

  “I know how to price a job, Dad.”

  “Sure you do.” Big Will dismissed Cal’s tone with a wave of his hand. “But getting new business, keeping it, is tough when you’re just starting out. People aren’t always ready to give you the work when you don’t have a good track record.”

  Cal’s forward motion halted.

  “Hey!” Rebecca said as she slammed into him.

  He ignored her and stared at Big Will who stood looking at him with slanted brows.

  “What the hell does that mean? I’ve got a great reputation, and I’m not just starting out. I’ve been in business over six years,” Cal said.

  “Settle down, now. Settle down. I didn’t mean you have a bad track record, I just mean you have a short one. If you come under the family business, you’ll have sixty years behind you instead of six.”

  “I love doing renovation work and building furniture. And for the record, I’m damn good at it. Tearing down acres of forest to put up condos is your thing, not mine. How many times do we have to have this conversation?”

  “You don’t have to get all worked up.” Big Will huffed out a breath and drew his heavy brows into a tighter vee. “I just wish you’d consider coming on board, that’s all. The company is Walker and Son Construction. It’s been that way since your Grampa Boone started it, and it’s still that way even if my son, namely you, isn’t interested in the business model.”

  “I don’t want to build subdivisions, Dad, and I like being my own boss.”

  “What you mean is, you don’t want to work with me.”

  “I don’t want to work for you. There’s a difference.”

  Son and father faced each other, nose to nose, two alpha males with their backs up.

  “Oh, for the love of all that’s holy.” Grampa Boone pulled off his frayed Braves cap and treated his scalp to a vigorous scratch. He tugged the cap back into place over his mane of white hair and regarded his son and grandson with disgust. “You two are as stubborn as a pair of mules and every bit as ornery. William, leave the boy alone. Now is not the time. And Caleb, son, you need to allow that your daddy is proud of you and the work you do, but he’s also a businessman who knows you’ll be an asset to Walker and Son Construction. Why wouldn’t he want you on board? Be an idiot if he didn’t. Now knock it off, both of you. You’re a bad example to the boy, here. Give it a rest.”

  Cal and his father eyed each other. Big Will balked first. “I’ll leave you alone, if you promise to think about joining the business. Not now, not today, but some day. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “I’ll promise to think about it at some point in the future, if you promise to back off and leave me alone about it.”

  “Fair enough.”

  An uncomfortable silence ensued as they walked to their vehicles.

  Rebecca eased the tension when she bribed TJ with a fast food lunch and a trip to the park, but he opted to stay with his dad for a visit to the hardware store.

  He scrambled into the back seat of the truck and secured himself in the child safety seat. Cal double checked him before backing out of the parking space. “Hey, Dad?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “How come I have to sit in this stupid baby seat? And how come we can’t go to Gram and Gramp’s for lunch? And how come you and Gramp’s got mad?”

  “You know the seat is the safest place for you to be. And we can’t go to Gram and Gramps’ because I’ve got stuff to do, including the hardware store. And maybe the grocery store so you can pick out your own snacks for the week.”

  “Can I get ice cream sandwiches?”

  “It’s a distinct possibility.”

  “Okay. Dad?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What about you and Gramps? How come you guys were mad?”

  Cal considered his words. “We weren’t mad, buddy. Gramps wants me to do something I don’t want to do, and he gets frustrated because I won’t do it. And then I get frustrated because he keeps asking.”

  “Like when you tell me to stop playing video games and go take a bath, and I don’t wanna? Like that?”

  Cal grinned in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, something like that.”

  “But I still have to take my bath.”

  “That’s because you’re five. After you grow up, you won’t have to take a bath if you don’t want to.”

  “Really?” The little boy’s face split in a huge grin. “Sweet!”

  “Speaking of baths, you’re a prime candidate for one, and that uniform needs to go into the laundry. You smell.”

  TJ giggled. “No, you smell!”

  “We’re the smelly Walker men,” Cal agreed. “You still need a bath, but I’ll go through the drive-thru at Bad Boys Burgers first to pick up some lunch. Extra pickles? Chocolate shake?”

  “Yes!” TJ pumped his fist with enthusiasm.

  Hours later, after trips to the hardware and grocery stores, bath, dinner, story and bedtime, Cal sat at the kitchen table with his laptop and a well-deserved beer, figuring the pricing estimates for Maddie Kinkaid.

  He liked the basic structure of her kitchen with the brickwork and general rustic feel, considered the large space and how he might improve both the functionality and aesthetics. He’d alread
y drawn up a few sketches, more than necessary, really, but doing so presented both a pleasure and a challenge which he enjoyed.

  The bigger problem would be quoting a price worthy of his workmanship that wouldn’t scare her away. He might be the most honest carpenter in town, but he sure as hell wasn’t the cheapest.

  He paused for a break, pushed back in the chair, stretched out his legs, and took a long pull on his beer.

  Maddie Kinkaid. She was more than attractive, in a girl-next-door kind of way, with her college-girl cut-offs and long ponytail. Still in her twenties, he guessed, but she must be coming up on thirty since she’d found time for both marriage and widowhood.

  And she talked to her dead husband.

  Cal glanced at his laptop for the time. Almost midnight. He’d finish up the quote tomorrow.

  He knocked back the rest of his beer, dropped the bottle in the recycle bin by the back door, and locked up for the night. He peeked in at TJ who sprawled spread-eagle fashion on Wolverine sheets, wearing his Batman pajamas. Cal stood in the doorway, while minutes ticked past, just watching the little boy sleep.

  “He’s such a great kid, Gwennie,” Cal said, his voice a low murmur. “I love him so much. I’ll keep him happy and healthy and safe for you. I promise.”

  And he listened as he always did, hoping for the whisper of Gwen’s voice, a thread of her essence to wend through him from the ether. But there was just the hum of the air conditioner and the soft hush of TJ’s breathing.

  ***

  Maddie clicked on her high beams and slowed the Camry. She crossed the railroad tracks and ignored the souped-up Charger traveling behind her, loaded with rowdy teenage boys and ear-splitting sub-woofers. She’d noticed them when she passed the elementary school because they were hanging out in the deserted parking lot under one of the lights, but at some point they pulled onto the road and now tailed her bumper, like riding close enough to hear her breathe would prompt her to pick up speed.

  As if.

  Despite the temptation to bring her car to the slowest possible crawl just to annoy them, Maddie hit the gas and accelerated to the speed limit. She cranked up her radio and ignored the Charger, but glanced at the bell tower of the old Methodist church when she breezed past because she knew from Caleb Walker’s website that he had been the one to restore it. When she neared the traffic light at Bright and Main, she eased up on the gas.

  No other vehicles traveled the road and no one meandered on the sidewalk enjoying the urns overflowing with wave petunias. The shops had closed up for the night. Maddie wished she had done the same as that would mean she’d be curled in bed asleep instead of on the road but, in truth, she hadn’t wanted to leave the Kinkaids’.

  After dinner, they all sat together on the back patio—Edie, Papa Ron, Brenna, and Maddie—while twilight grew and the fireflies performed their evening show. Having polished off the sangria well before sitting down to dinner, they enjoyed frosty glasses of sweet tea and pleasant conversation long after the leftovers were stored away and the dishes cleaned up.

  Brenna often followed Maddie through town on nights such as this one, beeping goodbye when she turned off the main road a few miles down. Brenna’s townhouse lay on the south side of Bright Hills as did Maddie’s house, though Brenna lived closer to the center of town. But Brenna had opted to spend the night at her parents’, an alternative offered to Maddie as well, and one which she had declined. Which was why she traveled the barren road now, abandoned but for herself and the Charger full of noisy boys laughing, seat dancing, and singing with their car windows down and the music blaring. And, she suspected, underage drinking, if her glance in the rearview mirror was correct, but it was tough to tell with so little light. She gave them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe that bottle one of them just tossed overboard was a two liter cola.

  Right.

  Once outside the town proper, the road became a rural highway. Maddie picked up speed, driving just over the sixty-five miles per hour speed limit and keeping an eye on the boys who continued to trail her. When they stopped tailgating and fell back she opened her windows to invite in the cool mountain air, and turned off the radio to enjoy the sounds of the road and the wind blowing through the windows, wreaking glorious havoc with her hair.

  The breezes blowing through the car raised bumps on Maddie’s skin. She breathed in the signature smell of sweet earthiness emanating from the Georgia pines and hardwoods.

  A vehicle appeared in the opposite lane and Maddie switched her beams to low. A moment later the Charger rocketed from out of the blackness to ride inches from her bumper. The driver jerked to the left and accelerated. The Charger roared past Maddie’s Camry head-on toward the other car, and fishtailed in front of her with scant inches to spare.

  Maddie’s scream clawed at her throat. Every muscle and joint in her body stiffened. Her foot stomped the brake. Her car slammed into a horrific skid, and the acrid odor of burned rubber burst into the air. Panicked, she overcompensated. Her Camry screeched into the oncoming lane.

  Chapter 3

  Maddie jerked the steering wheel to the right. Her car swung back into the appropriate lane and skidded onto the shoulder of the road. She guided it to a jerky stop. Violent trembling overtook her. Her hands clutched the steering wheel as if super-glued, knuckles bone white. Her lips parted in a gasp of horror as the sedan traveling in the opposite lane careened in avoidance of the Charger. The car, an older model Volvo, experienced a brutal skid and spun out. It rolled once and shook to a stop right-side up in the middle of the road.

  The Charger thundered out of sight.

  With jerky movements, Maddie fumbled her way free of her seatbelt. She groped the passenger seat for her phone and came up empty. No telling where it might have gone when it slid off the seat.

  She opened the driver’s side door to engage the interior light. A quick scan revealed her phone on the passenger side floor and she dove for it. Shaking, she attempted to dial 911. Her sweaty fingers slid over the display, and her trembling hands further hindered the effort. She succeeded on the third try and babbled to the dispatcher while she climbed from her car to check on the other driver.

  Her legs collapsed like a house of cards the second her feet hit the blacktop. She fell back onto the bucket seat and dropped the phone which bounced, then slid from sight. The voice of the 911 operator became a faint buzz from somewhere beneath the car.

  A glance at the Volvo revealed no movement inside, but Maddie sucked in a relieved breath to see the air bag had deployed. She focused her breathing in a failed attempt to still her trembling. Shivering, she willed her quivering legs to hold her weight.

  This time when she tested her legs, her ankles didn’t collapse and her muscles didn’t fail her, although she questioned their quivering strength. She succeeded in her effort to stand and crossed to the Volvo on wobbling legs. The driver, an older woman with panicked eyes, called out at Maddie’s approach.

  “I think I’m okay, but I can’t get my door open. Can you? Can you get it open?”

  Maddie shook her head when the door wouldn’t budge. She ran around to the passenger side and grasped the door handle. She dug her heels into the pavement and pulled with her full bodyweight to force the door ajar. Maddie fought for every inch, the grinding of deformed metal and broken glass scraping at her already abraded nerves. The door widened a few inches, enough to allow space to talk to the woman without hollering.

  “I called 911. I’ve got some flares in the trunk of my car and I’m going to use them to keep you safe while we wait for help.”

  Having a task helped calm her down. Maddie retrieved the flares, with thanks given to Jack for insisting she have them, and set them at each end of the battered Volvo. The red glow of the flares lit up the black stretch of road and Maddie stayed with the woman while they waited for help to arrive.

  “My name is Maddie. What’s yours?”

  “Jenny. Jenny French.”

  “You said you aren’t hurt, Jenny. Are
you sure about that?” Blood trickled from the woman’s temple, and Maddie gulped back the urge to vomit.

  “Yes. No. Yes.” Jenny managed a pitiful little laugh. “I’m shaking. I can’t seem to stop. Everything happened so fast. I banged up my knees, and my neck hurts, but I think that’s from the seatbelt.”

  Or the rolling and crunching of your car, and being assaulted by an air bag and flying glass, Maddie thought, but what she said was, “I’m glad you’re doing okay. I’m still shaking like a leaf, too.”

  Jenny’s teeth chattered from the violent trembling of her body. Being aware of the other woman’s condition allowed Maddie to focus and calm herself down. After all, she wasn’t the one trapped in a car that had rolled.

  “Do you want me to call anyone for you?”

  “No. I’m a widow, and my two daughters live on the West coast. I’ll call them from the hospital after I know what’s what. Do you have a husband on his way to fuss over you?”

  “As it happens, I’m a widow, too. My husband was killed in a car accident a couple of years ago. A drunk driver hit my Jack head on.” Maddie looked away and bit her lip. She swallowed tears. “Senseless.”

  “I’m so sorry. My husband died from a heart attack. The tragedy was that he had decades to fix his lifestyle and didn’t. Not from lack of my nagging, I’ll tell you that.” Jenny forced a little smile that resembled a grimace alongside her trembling. “You’re very young to be a widow. I hope you’ve found a way to move on from your heartbreak.”

  “Did you?”

  “I was much older than you, but I still had some good years left and shouldn’t have wasted them.” Jenny looked at Maddie, her face washed in the red glow of the flare. Her teeth-chattering continued. “Wallowing in grief is the luxury we afford ourselves when we’re afraid to move on. Don’t let it prevent you from living the life you were meant to live all along.”

  Sirens screamed in the distance, rending the night as they zoomed closer to the scene of the accident. The fire engine and ambulance arrived, and soon after, several police vehicles.