“Truck giving you trouble?”I ask, looking past him at the vehicle.
“Nope.Roy called me this morning.Said you had a break-in and needed a new door.”
I turn to look at the mangled doorframe, but the door only has minor damage.
“Door may be salvageable,” I suggest, to which Nate clicks his tongue.
“Nah…you need a new one.Even with the frame fixed, a good kick is all it would take to break down that thing.Roy gave me the measurements this morning, so I went and picked up a pre-hung steel door.It’s in the back of my truck, but I’ll need a hand unloading it.”
The thing is fucking heavy, and my muscles are straining with the effort, but Nate is toting his end like it’s a piece of cardboard.
“What do I owe you?”I ask him when we lean it against the wall.
“Take it up with Battaglia.He’s the one who ordered it.”
He walks back to his truck to grab his tool bag.
I know this game; they’ll be sending me back and forth like a goddamn ping-pong ball until I tire of it.That’s what happens in a small and fairly tight-knit community, everybody is ready to help a neighbor in need.But, although I appreciate the help, I’m not hurting for money and should pay for my own door.So I’ll still be talking to Roy Battaglia.
“I will, and I’m gonna pay you for your time,” I tell Nate, who is already taking a crowbar and a mallet to the splintered wood.
He shoots me a sardonic glance over his shoulder before putting all his weight into wrenching loose the doorframe.
“Truck’s about ready for an oil change and tire rotation,” he grunts as the frame starts to break away from the wall.
“Consider it done,” I return.
I don’t like owing people, but I won’t turn up my nose at a good barter.Another perk of living in a small town.
“I’ll be inside if you need a hand,” I tell him.“Probably upstairs.”
He throws me a distracted two-fingered salute and returns his focus to the task at hand, while I make my way inside.
Thank God it’s not as bad upstairs.There’s fingerprint dust on the stair rails going up, on a few random surfaces, and a bit on the doorknob to the bedroom; it could’ve been worse.To be honest, given what’s been discovered so far, I highly doubt they were even up here.
Still, it’s a good excuse to give the place a good cleaning, and maybe wash my sheets.Usually Sunday afternoons or evenings are for that kind of stuff, but I didn’t get around to doing it this past Sunday.I got hung up trying to finish that last baby blanket for Mabel, and then Tessa showed up for a surprise visit.Then I was going to do them Monday night, but I got the invite to Remi’s birthday, and then there was the break-in here last night.
Well, I have time now, so I may as well start putting a load of laundry in.
I’m in my bedroom, stripping my sheets when I hear my name called.Poking my head out the door, I catch Tessa coming up the stairs.
“Hey,” I say, surprised.“I figured you’d be sticking close to home.”
As I walk into the living room, my arms filled with laundry, she stops at the top of the stairs.She looks a bit lost, her arms tightly wrapped around herself.Then her eyes fix on me, and her face slowly crumbles.
Tossing my sheets on a chair in passing, I rush toward her, pulling her right into my arms.She sags in my hold and bursts out crying.
“Whoa, whoa, baby.What’s going on?”
I steer us to the couch, pulling her down with me.I don’t think an answer is forthcoming anytime soon, she’s burrowing her face into my shirt, sobbing softly.
Shit, something bad must’ve happened for her to lose it like this.It doesn’t seem like her, she’s always so controlled, except maybe in bed, she lets it all go there.
When I feel her trying to slow down her breathing, I make another attempt.
“Talk to me, Tessa.What happened?Where are the boys?”
“Linc is spending the night at his girlfriend’s, the Battaglias,” she answers, sniffling.
