I pull away from the curb and drive toward the site on the east end of town, but my head isn't in it. Why wouldn't she tell me? We sat across from each other at a coffee shop catching up, and she told me about her Nan and her degree and her investor and her bakery, but she left out the part about having a daughter. It's not some small detail she forgot to mention. She purposefully left it out.
It hurts to think she was so upset with me that she didn't want to tell me she has a kid. I sit in a daze as I drive, amazed when I get to the job site by the fact that I haven't caused an accident. And I try to snap out of it when I round the corner and see the signs blossom in the front yard of the home we're working on today.
The job site's a mess. It's a residential foundation pour for a new house going up on a half-acre lot, and there are trucks and equipment everywhere. A concrete mixer is already running and four guys are standing around the forms drinking coffee and waiting for someone to tell them what to do. Mike's there with his clipboard, directing traffic, and he waves me over when I park.
"You're late."
"I know. Sorry."
"Don't be sorry, be on time," he grumbles, not even looking up at me now. His eyes are on his clipboard as he says, "You'rewith Danny and Russ today. They'll show you the ropes. You've poured concrete before?"
"Not since I was sixteen."
"It'll come back to you." He claps me on the shoulder and points me toward the two guys standing near the mixer. "Go introduce yourself."
Danny is short and stocky with a sunburn that looks permanent and hands like catcher's mitts. Russ is taller and thinner, probably mid-twenties, with a trucker hat pulled low over his eyes. They both look me up and down when I walk over, and neither one of them seems impressed.
"You're Cole's kid?" Danny asks, spitting into the dirt. He rubs his boot over it and cocks his head sideways to check me out.
"That's me." I expect a bit of hazing from these guys being as it's my first day. And they don't know me, but I'm sure they think I'm expecting special treatment. All I want is a paycheck.
"You ever done this kind of work before or are we babysitting today?"
"I've done it." I grab a pair of gloves off the tailgate of the nearest truck and pull them on. "Just been a while."
Russ grumbles something harsh and scowls at me, but I fall into line and get to work with them. My body's in shape from eight years of Marine training, but pouring concrete uses muscles I forgot I had. Those first two hours are brutal and by ten thirty, my arms are burning and my back is stiff. Danny barks orders without looking at me, and Russ makes comments under his breath that I'm pretty sure are meant for me to hear but not respond to.
But I'm distracted and it shows. I miss a signal from Danny to move the chute and nearly dump a load outside the forms.
"What the hell!" he snaps, flagging his arms around as I right the chute and the concrete starts to fill the form.
"You know what? Fuck off!" I've had enough of their attitudes and I know I fucked up. It irritates me how annoying they're being, and I have little control over my temper in situations like this. Besides, I have a lot on my mind.
"Easy, Marine." Danny holds up his hands, waving off the guys to take a break as he stalks over toward me. "What's up your ass this morning?"
I pull my gloves off and wipe my face with my shirt. The sun is cooking us and I'm sweating through every layer I'm wearing. I should keep my mouth shut and do my job and figure out the Emily situation on my own time. But the sight of her with that little girl has been eating at me for two hours straight and I can't focus on anything else.
I just can't understand why she wouldn't tell me.
"You know Emily Carter?" I ask, trying to sound casual about it. "From the bakery?"
"Everybody knows Emily." Danny picks up his water bottle and takes a long drink. "Why?"
"Does she have a kid?"
Danny looks over at Russ and then back at me, confused. The expression appears to indicate that I'm an idiot and this is common knowledge.
"Yeah, she's got a little girl," Russ says, adjusting his hat. "Mercy, I think her name is. Cute kid. Comes into the hardware store with Emily's dad sometimes."
"How old?" I run a hand through my hair and notice it's drenched with sweat too. I feel like I just walked out of the ocean.
"I don't know. Seven, maybe?" Russ shrugs. "School age… Why, you interested in Emily or something?"
"Just curious," I mumble, but his response has my shoulders tightening up like a piano string. If that little girl is seven, it means Emily was pregnant, or got pregnant almost eight years go. And if they're wrong and the child is seven and a half or older, it could mean…
Danny snorts. "Sure, you are."
But Emily wouldn't have hidden that from me, right? "I told you to fuck off once. Don't make me do it again." I scowl at him to make sure he understands I'm really not joking at all. He might have a bit of age on me and a few pounds, but I'm combat trained and I have a temper that won't shut off once it's unleashed.
