Constructing the Soul

by Annabella Michaels

  I glanced in the rearview mirror as I drove away and my eyes widened when I saw him standing beside his truck, watching me. That was the strangest encounter I’d ever experienced and I was happy to get away from him so I could figure out what in the hell had just happened. All I knew for sure was that things had just gotten very interesting.

  “So, I’ve put together the design ideas from all ten contractors, along with their bids on the project. I had the company lawyer remove the names from the papers so we wouldn’t be accused of any preferential treatment from the candidates not chosen.” I walked around the large conference room table, handing out the packets that I had put together for each member of the committee to review.

  “That was a very smart idea,” Lachlan said when I handed him a set of papers. I appreciated his praise more than he realized. I was still a little nervous about presenting my thoughts in front of this particular group of people. Not that they weren’t perfectly nice and I’d gotten to know them all well enough to consider them friends, but it was a bit intimidating to be standing in front of world famous musicians, a music mogul and an ex-Navy SEAL just to name a few and know that they wanted to hear my opinion on a subject.

  The only sound in the room were papers rustling as I gave them time to look over the plans in front of them. After a few minutes, I spoke. “As you can see, there were a wide variety of ideas for how to use the space as well as a broad range in prices. My recommendation would be to go with candidate number eight. Their bid rang in a little higher than most of the others, but the design ideas seem to fit most closely with what we’re wanting for Agape House. They maximized the use of space so that nothing was wasted, which would allow us to serve the most kids possible. If we incorporate that design, we’re looking at quadrupling the number of LGBTQA teens we’ll be able to help.”

  “I like the layout of the kitchen area,” Caleb said.

  “I agree and with this design, depending on what materials are used, I think we could easily make it feel more like a home than a cafeteria,” his husband, Giovanni, added. Caleb was an internationally trained chef and together they owned Romero’s, one of Chicago’s most popular Italian restaurants. Having their stamp of approval, particularly on the kitchen design, was huge. We continued around the table, providing each person with a chance to give their opinion and with only a few minor adjustments we were all in agreement.

  “Okay then, it looks like all that’s left is to show the design to Matt and if he approves, then we’re ready to move forward with the project,” Landon’s father, Rick Greene, said. Matt was the owner of Agape House and was unfortunately unable to attend the meeting because he was short staffed that day at the center.

  “I’ll run them over to him as soon as we’re done,” I offered. “Once I have Matt’s approval, I’ll call the contractor and let them know they’ve got the job.”

  “So, who is our new contractor?” Carter asked.

  I opened the manila envelope that contained the names of each candidate and pulled them out. My heart thudded in my chest as I read over the name of contractor number eight. I guess he hadn’t been lying about being the best man for the job.

  “Morgan Greene of Greene Construction,” I read aloud. My answer was met with many smiles and cheers from the man’s family members and I pasted a smile on my face to hide my panic. How in the hell was I supposed to get through the next several months working closely with Morgan, when I had barely gotten through our short meeting without getting completely flustered?

  I busied myself with cleaning up the table as everyone began filing out of the room until eventually there was only Landon and myself left. Between his work preparing for the new world tour and me running off to meet with the contractors, it was the first time we’d been alone all week.

  “How are things going with the tour plans, is everything lining up for you?” I asked.

  “Going pretty well, but I miss working with you on that type of thing. Don’t get me wrong, the rest of the team is great and they’ve been very helpful. They’re just not you, you know?” I smiled at him because I did know.

  From the very first day we worked together, it was obvious that Landon and I shared the same work ethic and attention to detail. As we got to know each other better and our friendship grew, we eventually got to the point where we didn’t even need to say a word for the other to know what we were thinking. Micah often joked that he thought we shared a brain, but the truth was we just knew each other so well that we could anticipate what the other was going to say. Landon said it reminded him of his brother’s twintuition sometimes.

  As an only child, it made me happy to be able to share that close of a bond with someone else. I had lots of friends that I liked hanging out with, but Landon was different; he was like a brother to me.

  “I miss it too. It feels strange to be working on separate projects,” I admitted.

  Other than the time that Landon left to go on tour with Carter’s Creed, we’d worked together nearly every day. I tried not to think of that time though because it was too difficult to remember that I’d almost lost him to a deranged woman who had kidnapped him and held him at gunpoint. Thankfully, Micah saved Landon and killed the woman, but not before she was able to shoot Landon in the chest, causing him to fall from a train trestle into the icy cold water below.

  Landon had been left fighting for his life in the hospital. I’d wanted to be with him as he went through surgery, but I knew that he had a large family that would be by his side and the best way I could help would be to stay and take care of the company that he’d worked so hard to build. Landon told me later that I’d made the right decision, and that knowing that his agency was in good hands had allowed him to focus on his recovery without worry.

  “You did a fantastic job meeting with the contractors and choosing the one that would work best for the project,” Landon said, pulling me from my thoughts. “I knew you’d be perfect to head this thing up.”

  “Thanks, Landon. It really means a lot that you have so much confidence in me,” I told him sincerely.

  “Of course, I do. You’re the most capable person I’ve ever worked with and you have great people skills which will come in very handy when dealing with all of the builders and inspectors that go along with a project this size,” he replied.

  “Ugh! Don’t remind me.” Landon chuckled as I rolled my eyes. The thought of all the red tape I’d have to get through could become overwhelming if I let it, but I’d decided to take it one day at a time. Besides, if the contractor did his job right, then it would cut down on any potential issues with the building and zoning inspectors.

  “Just leave your sass at home and you should be fine,” Landon teased.

  I gave him a look of mock indignation. “Me, sassy? You must be mistaken. I am perfectly lovely to be around all of the time.” Landon laughed loudly at that and I set the papers down on the table and glared at him, folding my arms in front of me. “When have I ever been less than pleasant? I dare you to name one time,” I demanded.

  “Oh, I don’t know. How about the time you told that taxi driver that you would be happy to recommend a store where he could buy some deodorizer for his cab?” Landon raised an eyebrow as he waited for my response.

  I wrinkled my nose at the memory. “It smelled like a musty gym bag. I was merely trying to save the good people of Chicago from enduring the olfactory horror that I had been subjected to.”

  “Okay, what about the time you told the couple sitting next to us at that restaurant that you had some great porn videos you could loan them if they were that interested in your sex life?” Landon challenged. I had to fight a laugh as I remembered the look on their faces.

  “You know as well as I do that they were listening to our conversation. They kept glaring at us and the woman began choking when I mentioned my prostate. They should thank me for making such a generous offer, some of those videos are irreplaceable,” I stated haughtily.

  “Fine, what about the ti
me…”

  “I said to name one,” I cut him off before he could finish his sentence and we both started laughing.

  “I think I made my point. It’s a good thing Morgan is an easy-going kind of guy; it’ll make everything run much smoother.” Landon chuckled. My laughter died out at the mention of his cousin.

  “Why didn’t you ever mention Morgan before?” I asked.

  Landon shrugged his shoulders. “I probably have and you just don’t remember. I’ve got twenty-two cousins. I have trouble keeping track of all of them, so I’m not surprised if you couldn’t.” I nodded my head and turned my attention back to my work.

  “Are you two close?” I asked, trying to sound casual. I tapped the stack of papers on the table in front of me to straighten them and then slid them back into the large envelope.

  “Morgan and I were very close growing up. In fact, he was the closest to me out of all my cousins. He grew up in Tennessee so I didn’t get to see him as much as I would’ve liked, but my family owns a cabin there and every summer Mom would load us up in the car and we’d spend a few weeks there with Morgan and his mom. Our mothers may have become family through their husbands, but the two of them are thick as thieves.” Landon laughed at some memory and I felt myself smiling. I loved seeing him so relaxed and happy; much different than the man he was before Micah came along.

  “Anyway, my sisters were always off doing their thing and of course Caleb and Carter are two peas in a pod so that left me and Morgan to find something to entertain ourselves with. We never had a problem with that,” Landon chuckled.

  “We’d spend hours swimming in the creek that ran behind the cabin. This one time, Morgan got the bright idea to hang a tire swing from a nearby tree. We had a blast swinging out and then jumping down into the water, until the rope broke and Morgan fell hard. He ended up breaking his arm and had to spend the rest of the trip in a cast, so we couldn’t swim anymore—not that our moms would’ve let us anyway. They were pretty mad about the whole thing,” Landon said with a laugh. I could hear the affection he had for his cousin in his voice.

  “Why did he bid on a job in Chicago if he lives in Tennessee?” I asked.

  “He doesn’t live there anymore, he moved to a place right outside of Chicago about a month ago. Mom said it was because he wanted to grow his business and there just wasn’t enough work in the small town he grew up in, but I don’t know…” His voice trailed off and I leaned forward, wishing he’d finish his thought, but then he shook his head as if to clear it and smiled at me. “Whatever the reason, I’m glad he’s here and that he got the job. He’s an amazing guy.”

  “Yeah, he’s definitely something,” I murmured as I began pushing the chairs in around the table. When I was finished, I looked up and found Landon studying me with his head tilted to the side.

  “Why are you so interested in Morgan?” he asked.

  “No reason. I just thought it would be a good idea to get to know the man I’ll be working with on the project.” It was an honest enough statement, but it wasn’t the only reason I wanted to know more about Morgan Greene. However, there was no way I was going to admit to Landon that I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about his cousin since our first meeting or wondering about the strange chemistry between us. I knew that Landon wouldn’t have a problem with the fact that I found Morgan attractive, there just wasn’t anything to tell. For all I knew, there may be no spark at all the second time around, but I was anxious to see him and find out.

  The look Landon gave me told me that he knew there was more to it than that, but I held the envelope up in the air and gave him a broad smile. “I better get over to Agape House right away so Matt can approve the plans and we can move forward with the project.”

  “Okay, sounds good. Let me know if there’s anything you need from me along the way. I’ve been busy getting everything lined up for the tour, but I don’t want you to feel like you’ve taken the whole project on by yourself. Agape House means the world to all of us and we want to help out as much as possible.”

  “I know and I appreciate that. I’ll keep in touch,” I promised. I gave him a quick hug and then went to my desk to grab my car keys before heading out the door. I’d let Matt look over everything, but I couldn’t imagine him not liking Morgan’s ideas for the center.

  Matt was in a meeting when I arrived at Agape House so I left the papers with Isaac, the front desk manager, who promised to give them to Matt and have him call me as soon as he got the chance. I spent about an hour visiting with the kids and helping them with their homework, before leaving for the day.

  My stomach was growling as I climbed in my car and I remembered that I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. I’d been too nervous about giving my presentation to the rest of the group to even consider eating lunch and my stomach was making its displeasure clear. My phone rang as I was contemplating whether I felt like stopping at the store to get something to make for dinner or if I would rather just pick something up from a restaurant. I smiled when I saw who it was and I pressed the button on my steering wheel to accept the call as I pulled away from the curb.

  “Hey, Mama!”

  “Musuko!” she answered. Warmth spread through me at the sound of my mother’s gentle voice. Rena Kimura had been born and raised in Japan by very traditional parents. When she was eighteen years old, she met my father, Henry, who was there on business with the marketing company that he was interning for. According to them, it was love at first sight and despite the objections from her parents that she was being too hasty, she left with Henry when he returned to the States. They were married after only knowing each other for two months, but as they told me many times over the years, “When you meet the person that is the other half to your whole, there’s no sense in wasting time.”

  My mother had adopted many American traditions throughout the years, but she’d also felt it was important to teach me how to speak Japanese so that I would be able to stay in touch with that part of my heritage. It never failed to make me feel special whenever she called me musuko, the Japanese term for son.

  “Your father is getting ready to put some steaks on the grill and we were hoping you might stop by and have dinner with us,” she offered.

  “That sounds perfect, actually. I was just trying to figure out what to do for dinner,” I told her.

  “Great! We’ll see you soon then. Be safe driving, Musuko.”

  “I will, Mama. Tell dad not to burn the steaks this time,” I joked.

  “I could try, but it wouldn’t work,” she said in a whisper, making me laugh. It was a long-standing joke between my mother and me. My dad loved to cook and he was actually quite good at it as long as he stayed in the kitchen, but put the man in front of an open flame and whatever he was cooking came out looking like charcoal briquettes and tasting even worse. He was always so happy doing it though that neither one of us had the heart to tell him, so we smiled and choked down the brittle substance year after year.

  My parents lived just outside the city limits so it didn’t take me long to arrive and I chuckled when I smelled something burning as I walked towards the house. I was very close to my parents and it was rare for me to go more than a day or two without at least talking to one of them on the phone, but I’d been swamped with work and so I hadn’t spoken to them in over a week.

  We enjoyed a wonderful meal, despite the charred meat, and we caught up with everything that had been going on with each other. Mom worked as a preschool teacher, not because she needed the money, but because she enjoyed being around young children. She once told me that if we wanted to make the world more loving and accepting of others, then we needed to start with our young. Dad had continued working at the same marketing company for several years until he decided to start one of his own, a choice that had turned out to be very profitable. They had each taught me the value of hard work.

  After dinner, we worked together to clean up the dishes. We were laughing at a story my dad was telling about a guy t
hat worked for him when my phone chimed, letting me know I had a text. Pulling it out of my pocket, I saw that it was from Matt. Swiping the screen with my thumb, I scanned his message.

  “What has you smiling so much, Akio?” I glanced up at my dad and shrugged, shoving my phone back into my pocket.

  “Nothing really, just got the go-ahead from the center’s owner, saying that he approved of the plans. I better get going, I need to call the contractor and let him know that his bid has been accepted.” I kissed both of them and then practically ran to my car. I was excited to be moving forward on the project, but the rapid thumping in my chest and the slight shaking of my hands had more to do with the call I was about to make than the text I had just received.

  I let my fingers graze the hard surface, checking for any roughness as I bent down and pursed my lips, blowing gently along the length of the wood. I watched as the sawdust lifted and swirled in the sunlight streaming through the windows, the fragrant scent of oak permeating the air. I’d worked tirelessly over the last month, setting up my new place and making it into my own, but inside my workshop, surrounded by my tools and new and old pieces of wood with endless possibilities, was where I felt most at home.

  I knew with my very first job, working as an intern at my dad’s law firm, that I wasn’t cut out for a career that would force me to sit behind a desk for eight hours a day. I’d always been the type who needed to be moving and doing things. I loved working with my hands, building things from scratch or taking old things and making them into something new and beautiful again. It wasn’t until a friend of mine talked me into working with him on a construction site one summer that I found my true calling. I worked my ass off and learned as much as I could until I was finally able to start my own company.

  What started out as me and a couple of buddies, soon turned into a thirty-person operation. I was proud of the work I’d done and I was happy with the level of success I’d achieved. It hadn’t been an easy decision to leave Tennessee, but I was excited about living closer to my cousins and I was fairly confident that moving my business to a large city such as Chicago would prove to be fortuitous.