Ready For It (MacAteer Brothers Book 2)

by ML Nystrom

  “Thanks.” Owen started coiling the drop lines from the power tools. It was a pain in the ass to put them away and load the truck every night by himself, but it was better than taking chances of them getting ruined by rain or stolen, or even worse, an accident from the man’s kids playing with the equipment when he wasn’t there.

  Jerry shifted from foot to foot in agitation. “Um, say, Owen, the wife wants me to find out if you’d be interested in meeting her sister. She just got her final divorce papers and is planning on moving here in a month or two.”

  Owen lifted his rip saw and put it in the case along with his drill and power driver. “No time to date.”

  “Bertie is a lot of fun now that she’s in the land of the living again. She and Karl were pretty stagnant as a couple. She’s younger than Jodie and nice to look at and a hard worker like you. You really should meet her. At least just once. She’s gonna need friends more than anything else, and she’s a real hoot to be around.”

  Owen flipped a tarp over the remaining lumber to keep it dry overnight. He’d already covered the semi-finished deck railings. “Not now.”

  Jerry didn’t give up. He put on his best salesman smile. “Ah, come on, Owen. You got time to think about it. Just for one date, and it’s far enough in the future, you’ll change your mind. You can do the dinner thing or the movie thing, and that’s it. My wife will be ecstatic and stop hounding me about setting up her sister. Besides, Bertie has this big plan to open a bed-and-breakfast, and the places she is looking at need some serious renovations. You can think of the date as more of a business meeting, yeah?”

  Owen opened his mouth to protest again, and nothing came out. The words just didn’t happen, and Jerry took that as a sign of acquiescence. “Great, I’ll tell Jodie tonight and get her off my ass for a change. Fantastic, man. Really ’preciate you.”

  The man smiled huge and turned to leave. He whirled back with a finger in the air. “Oh, yeah. One more thing. Jodie wants you to build her a she shed kinda thing in the basement. The unfinished part. I’m not sure what a she shed is, but whatever my sweetie wants, she gets. Know what I mean?”

  He laughed and sauntered in the house, leaving Owen on the half-finished deck with his mouth still open.

  Chapter Six

  “Mellie-Jellie, what’s up? You busy today? I’m headed to the mall with Abby and her posse. Meet me at Starbucks? Please?”

  There rang a slight note of desperation in Bevvie’s voice. It had the message of please-rescue-me-from-being-alone-with-a-bunch-of-teenage-girls-in-mall-mode. “I’ve already had my real coffee quota for the day. Starbucks decaf is a real thing, right?”

  “Yes, Starbucks decaf exists, and you can handle it. I’ll buy if you come save me.”

  Who could resist an invitation like that?

  I headed to my second home, Asheville Mall. As a kid and then a teenager, I spent entire Saturdays here, shopping, examining the kiosks, eating junk food, and sometimes just sitting in the food court reading books. My home away from home, and I liked it a lot better. Not much had changed over the years, as kids still considered this the place to hang out and be seen. Groups of teenage girls and boys circled the stores, eyeing each other as much as the store items. I spotted Abby and her friends through the window of Old Navy. Abby treated clothes shopping like I did, as an Olympic event. Bevvie treated it like a torturous chore. She used to get a lot of her clothes from Goodwill because of money issues. She didn’t have to now, but she still didn’t get the finesse of modern style.

  Bevvie sat at one table just inside the coffee shop and waved when I entered. She already had a cup for me plus a chocolate brownie. I loved my BFF!

  She sipped at the frothy latte. “Abby is in Old Navy looking at jeans. I expect I’ll have to send a search party if she goes more than an hour in there.”

  I smiled. “You don’t understand the complexities of jeans shopping. There’s skinny, high rise, low rise, straight leg, boot cut, relaxed fit….”

  She stuck her fingers in her ears and recited, “La-la-la-la.”

  My laugh came out, and with that, the rest of my tension. “Where are the other kids?”

  “Connor has them at the pool. We drew straws to see which one of us got Abby and the girls or swimming. I lost.”

  I laughed as I broke off a part of the brownie and stuffed it into my mouth. Her mouth grew pensive. “Any news about Peter?”

  I shook my head and swallowed. “That ship has sailed so far, it’s fallen off the edge of flat earth. He’s not interested and plans on signing any paternal rights away as soon as possible.”

  “I’m sorry, Mellie-Jellie.”

  I waved a hand as I gulped at the coffee. Decaf? Not too bad. “I don’t need that shit to deal with, anyway. I’m better off on my own than trying to coparent with an asshole like him.”

  Bevvie picked her plastic stirring stick to bend and twist it in her fingers. “I’m still sorry you had to go through that meeting with him, but, you know, we are at the mall. I’m not the expert on the intricacies of teenage fashion, but I’m very familiar with maternity clothes. If you’re game, we can go look at mommy and baby stuff.”

  I hadn’t thought about that yet. The upcoming changes meant a whole new wardrobe. “Bevvie-Levvie, you are my hero. My credit card balance is currently at zero. Time to load it up. Let’s go.”

  I never imagined in my wildest dreams there would be such a plethora of stylish clothes for pregnant women. I always thought maternal wear was comprised of tent-like shirts and stretchy yoga pants. I was wrong. Skirts, jackets, pants, dresses, lots of clothes designed with growing bellies in mind. I bought a pile of new stuff including some T-shirts with cute sayings like Baby on Board and Under Construction with an arrow pointing to my belly button. Even though my condition didn’t show yet, it didn’t hurt to be prepared, right?

  The baby clothes were even cuter. Yellow floral gowns, green striped onesies, zip-up fuzzy pajamas with feet, tiny socks with lacy frills, pink bows, blue baseball shirts…. With this many options, my kid would be the best-dressed newborn ever. This was a whole new world of shopping. Time to give my Amazon Prime account a serious workout.

  Bevvie picked up a doll-sized pink shirt that said Spoiled Princess on the front. “Which do you want? Boy or girl?”

  I lifted and displayed a yellow onesie with pink bows all over the butt. “I’m not sure I care as long as it’s healthy. Is it better to find out ahead of time?”

  Bev folded the shirt and picked up another that declared Ain’t no Auntie Like Mine. “It helps for showers and things like that. Some people will want to do the pink girly girl stuff or the sporty blue boy stuff. You might want something more neutral for your nursery. I had Disney for all my kids. What better way to go than the happiest place on earth?”

  I thumbed through a pile of boys’ outfits on the same table. One sported camouflage and said Mama’s New Man on the front. So cute! Wait? Nursery? I dropped the shirt back on the table. My condo only had one bedroom. It was huge, but still only one. Where in the hell did I put a crib? Did I need a changing table? I looked at the other baby items staring at me from the shelves. Rocking slider chair. Baby bathtub. Stroller. Bassinet. Swing. Bouncer. Something called a diaper genie. Toys. A box to put the toys. Where did I put this stuff and all the other paraphernalia that came with a baby?

  Fuck me, I had to move.

  Bev noticed the expression of alarm on my face. “You don’t have to decide everything today, sweetie. You do have time.”

  Yes, I have time. Not a lot, but enough if I’m careful and don’t put off planning. “I’m good, Bevvie. I just realized my place won’t cut it. I’m gonna have to look for a bigger condo, or better yet, a house.”

  Her brow wrinkled as both eyebrows rose. “A house is a lot of upkeep for one person. I have firsthand knowledge about that.”

  Visions of swing sets, plastic pools, and running through puddles in the backyard after a rainstorm swam through my head. A real Ch
ristmas tree with homemade macaroni decorations. Linoleum on the kitchen floor, perfect to surf across in sock feet. I made up my mind. “A house. I want a house. It’s not like I can’t afford it. My place is nice, but it’s only that. A place. I need something I can make into a home. A real one like yours. I like my condo, but actually, I feel at home when I’m over hanging with the kids at your house.”

  Bev’s eyes softened, and her mouth curled upward. Of all the people in the world, she knew me the best. We bonded as freshman teachers years ago. When she looked at me, she didn’t see a rich bitch with her nose in the air. She saw a fellow teaching crusader whose goal was to develop young minds and enrich their lives. One night of drunken confessions, I opened up and talked to her about my life and my family. Money doesn’t mean happiness. Her experiences with her ex-husband proved that, and stories of my childhood years sealed it.

  “There’s lots of houses in my neighborhood for sale, but every one of them is a fixer-upper. If you want to look at them, I’m sure Connor and Owen can help you, but I expect you’d rather get something move-in ready.”

  “Owen’s still here?”

  “Yeah, and it looks like he may stick around for a while. Connor took him to help with a deck build this week and let Owen do the designing. He must be pretty good, ’cause the homeowner’s neighbors saw it and wanted one. You’ve seen those big domino sculptures, right? You knock over just one and that leads to a bazillion more falling. That’s what’s been happening with these renovation jobs. Connor booked two more after this new one and has consultations on four more. Owen is staying to do those jobs and maybe longer. If this keeps up, they’ll have work all summer. Connor plans on letting Owen do the majority of designing and building. Supervision too if there needs to be a work crew hired. He really needs to get back to his woodshop and get the backorders filled.”

  I knew about Connor’s custom furniture business. He had a workshop in the back of their house that he recently expanded. I peeked inside once while he worked. Custom tables, boxes, beds, dressers, all in various stages of completion and with more orders coming.

  “Owen doesn’t seem the type to lead a work crew. He’s rather quiet.”

  “He does most of the work himself, and yeah, he doesn’t say much, but his designs are brilliant. You should go by the one he’s working on now and take a look.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  I didn’t quite know what to think about the news that Owen would be sticking around for a while. There was something disturbing about him. Not creepy or scary—I didn’t feel unsafe around him. Quite the contrary, I was more comfortable around him than my own family, but there was still something about him that drew my focus more and more. Perhaps we bonded when he held my hair back for me while I vomited my guts out at Bev’s. Not many people could say they had that dubious honor.

  Not something I needed to think about now. Back to the house idea. At least three, perhaps four bedrooms. A yard. I need a yard with a fence for safety and in case I wanted to get a dog for my kid. A patio for cute patio furniture. Maybe some of Connor’s stuff. I’d better make an order now if I expected my own set before next summer. Shit, how long did it take to buy a house?

  I slapped the last of the clothes over as my thoughts kept circling. I had to call the family lawyer about my trust, then a real estate agent, check bank qualifications. Fuck, I was still a teacher with a shit salary. I needed to just buy a house outright and skip the mortgage. Was there a tax advantage? Damn, I’d have a dependent from now on.

  The beginnings of a headache bloomed in my left temple as the ideas and thoughts played through my head like a merry-go-round.

  Bevvie took pity on me. “You don’t have to solve every problem now, Mellie. Tell you what. Come to dinner at my place tonight, and we’ll get a plan together along with a timeline. I know that will keep you a lot calmer, having something outlined and on paper, right?”

  My BFF was the biggest godsend. The difference between her support and the attitude of my family had no comparison. The buzz of tears started in my sinuses. Fuck, I was getting to be a weepy Wendy! “Thanks, Bevvie. You mean the world to me.”

  Her face softened. “Back atcha. Now what do you think of this?” She held up a long-sleeved T-shirt that read You’re Kickin’ me, Smalls.

  Both of us laughed. I hadn’t realized how much I needed that.

  Owen’s phone buzzed, and he stood up from his crouch near the newly finished deck benches to slip it from his back pocket. Connor’s voice came to him.

  “Just got confirmation on the Herndon job. Whatever you showed them, they liked. That books up two more weeks next month, and I’m getting way behind in the wood shop. When does Garrett get finished with his job?”

  “Two months. Maybe three.”

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I could use his help. If this workload keeps up, I might even have to call Patrick and Angus.”

  Owen grunted but said nothing. Patrick and Angus were the youngest of the MacAteer men and were identical twins. Garrett and he were fraternal twins. They shared a womb and were very close but didn’t look exactly the same and had distinctive personalities. Most people had trouble telling Patrick and Angus apart, and the two brothers functioned so close to a unit, it was rare that they spent any time away from each other. They were also the biggest party people in the family. Constantly playing jokes, cutting up, starting fights, and getting into whatever trouble they found. Still, they were brothers and would have Connor’s back if he needed them.

  “Hard workers.”

  The truck door closed with a bang as Connor answered. “Yeah, they do work hard and know their jobs, but they bring trouble wherever they go. They helped a lot when we remodeled the duplex into the house, and I appreciated them coming for that. They also tag-teamed a couple of women into thinking they were the other. That woman, who came to the jobsite? Angelique, I think her name? She wanted to see Patrick, but it was Angus she slept with. Christ Almighty, what a mess.”

  Owen imagined Connor shaking his head as he swore. “I get it. I’ll stay for the summer and through the fall. Might stick around longer if the work stays steady.”

  “We’re already booked for the next two months, just the two of us. Remind me to text Garrett this weekend and check his schedule.”

  “Need to set up my camper.”

  “You’re welcome to stay in the guest room as long as you want.”

  Owen shrugged even though his brother couldn’t see it. “Need my own space. Kids need theirs. You got a new wife.”

  “Alright. You can hook up to the woodshop. The bathroom in there is usable, but the shower is small. You can still come in the house for that if you want.”

  Owen grunted again, not seeing a need to respond with words. Connor took the noise as an affirmative answer.

  “As Mattie would say, coolio. I gotta run. I’m over at Home Depot picking up a load of decking boards and taking them to the Maggini place. You on for tomorrow morning?”

  Owen glanced at the finished Harris job. Jerry had more work for him to do inside the house, however that hadn’t been scheduled yet. “Yeah. Just cleanup left.”

  “Great. Mind running by the grocery store for burger buns on the way home? Melanie’s coming by tonight.”

  Owen couldn’t connect the need for bread and Melanie’s visit. Visit was a loose word anyway, as she seemed to spend just as much time at Connor and Bev’s as she did her own place. Every time he saw her red sports car pull up in the driveway, a thrill ran down his spine that he would see her.

  “Pick up some black bean burgers too while you’re at it, and check the label before you buy. Abby won’t touch the beef patties and will only eat the bean things if it says organic. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I hope this is just a phase for her. She inspected the fridge this morning and told us we were murderers for cooking eggs. I love her, but I wish someone took the time to write a raising-a-teenage-girl survival manual.”

  Owen chuckled. He knew Connor wou
ld give his stepdaughter his last working kidney if she needed it.

  “See you at home.”

  Home. The sound and taste of the word sat on Owen’s tongue. Home. His camper fit his needs, but much like his older brother, he had the desire to find a place. His own place. Wife. Kids. Family. He’d spent most of his childhood and adult life moving from job to job with no permanence. He liked where he landed, here with Connor and family, and so far, there was no shortage for work. Maybe now was the right time to think about it. He missed his twin, as they’d worked side by side for years, but Garrett’s on-again/off-again girlfriend had rejoined the picture, and Owen couldn’t make plans around his brother’s life.

  He stretched his arms overhead and felt the tight muscles of his back loosen up. He’d kept the site mess to a minimum, and most of the tools already sat in their places on the back of his truck. Black bean burgers? They didn’t sound appealing in the least, but if they kept the peace at Connor and Bev’s place, he’d get them. Trader Joe’s wasn’t too far and not a big deal for him to stop by. The tailgate of the truck slammed shut with a loud bang.

  Chapter Seven

  The stately columns of the sprawling white mansion gleamed white in the sun as I drove up to my parents’ house in Arden. This rich neighborhood sported multimillion-dollar houses with every lavish comfort anyone ever thought of or wanted. My mother’s closet was big enough to house a family, and my father’s custom wine cellar had its own temperature-control system separate from the house. If the power dared to go out, his precious collection of bottles wouldn’t be affected.

  The large stone fountain burbled away as I parked in the cobblestone circular driveway in front. I grew up here with my older brother, in the lap of luxury and with a silver spoon. Yes, I was spoiled, but I’d like to think I outgrew at least part of it. My brother didn’t.