Jesse sat in his truck outside the Master’s enormous bungalow. The carpenter in him wanted to get inside and check it out. If it were his, he’d build a small extension to connect the side door to the garage. It could serve double duty as an entryway and walkway. Plus, it would keep you warm on the way to your car midwinter.
He shrugged. He’d never get his hands on the well-maintained gray and white house. Or its yard where the summer flowers were past their prime and fading. They needed to be pulled and replaced with pots of mums and colorful fall foliage, like he’d done at his mother’s house last weekend. Potted evergreens with fairy lights would look stunning.
Hailey’s silver SUV rounded the corner. She backed the trailer onto the driveway. After only two tries, she had it reasonably positioned. He could have done better in a single shot, but he pulled trailers on a regular basis and doubted she did. He was still impressed. Backing up a trailer wasn’t something his ex-girlfriend could have done, nor his mother. Of course, she didn’t do much besides complain.
He pushed away the irritation. He loved his mother, despite her difficult personality and tendency to over-drink. She’d had a tough go of it over the past few years and was struggling to cope.
Hailey climbed out of her vehicle and walked toward him, a huge smile on her face. Her smile always had made his world brighter. “Did you see that?” She clapped her hands and thrust her fist in the air. “I totally rocked backing this behemoth up.”
He gave her a high five. “Yes, you did. You handled her like a pro.” The trailer was the smallest size available; she couldn’t have much inside. He wondered where her furnishings were.
“Let’s get this done. I need a nap. Hang tight while I open the garage.”
She slipped through the gate into the back yard. Ten seconds later, he heard the hum of a motor and the garage door opened up. She unlocked the trailer and swung the back door open, pulled down the ramp, and climbed inside.
He followed her in and helped unbuckle the loading straps. He stared at the boxes. There couldn’t be more than a couple dozen. She must have left most of her stuff behind. “Does your father have any scrap lumber?”
“I don’t know, why?” She pivoted, hands on her hips to look at Jesse.
“Garages around here tend to be damp in the fall and winter. Some lumber under the boxes would keep them off the concrete.”
“Oh. Good idea.” She scurried down the ramp and searched the garage. She returned to the trailer, frowning. “Nothing. Bummer.”
“I’ve got a couple 2X4s in the back of my truck. We can use those.” He raised a brow in question.
“I don’t know…I’ve already taken advantage of you enough. You probably have a use for them. Wood isn’t free.”
There she went again, assuming he needed money. She was being kind, but the way she jumped to conclusions about him was rather offensive. He decided it wasn’t a conversation worth pursuing. She’d learn the truth soon enough. “They’re leftovers from a project. I have no immediate use for them.” They were twisted and difficult to use in a project unless he cut them shorter. He’d probably end up using them as braces for makeshift saw horses or work tables. “I don’t mind giving them to you. If it makes you feel better, you can give them back once you get settled.”
She tapped her foot and pursed her full lips. He remembered that look from Chemistry 20 class, the year he’d planned on taking Chemical Engineering.
“Okay,” she said at last. “I’d like to borrow some wood from you. I’ll get it back as soon as I can.”
“No hurry.” He jogged to his truck and snagged two slightly warped lengths of wood from the back. Nearly five feet long, they’d make a perfect platform for her possessions. “Where do you want them?” The garage was spotless. A Honda SUV sat on one side, the other side was empty except for shovels and rakes hanging on the wall. Tools hung in pristine rows above the narrow bench at the front of the garage, under the window.
“Over here, against the wall. I guess. I hope Mom’ll have room to park beside it. I could haul it all inside, but I’d rather just sort out what I need right away.” She looked around indecisively. “Yeah, over here.”
“Your mom’s little KIA will have tons of room if we stack it tight.” He set the boards, sixteen inches apart, parallel to the wall and followed her back to the truck. She yawned hugely as she climbed up, wobbling slightly. She had to be exhausted.
She didn’t have much, just the dozen boxes and a small kitchen table and chairs. No television. No signs of a stereo, no bed. A million questions sprang to mind. She’d been engaged and planning a wedding the last he heard. The relationship must have gone sour. He frowned. Broken relationships always bothered him. Had she given it her all or quit at the first sign of trouble?
He hoisted a box marked heavy. “Whoa. What’s in this?” he groaned.
“Sorry, those are books. Six cartons. I couldn’t bear to part with my library.”
“I don’t blame you. Every house needs a library.” The school library had been his sanctuary until he had graduated from high school. He spent every hour he wasn’t working as an apprentice carpenter studying in the library. There had been no choice but to ignore sports, and girls. After graduation, the public library became his refuge, the one place he considered home when his family home was imploding.
Hailey and Beth had spent a lot of hours in the school library. Studying, whispering and giggling. They ogled the boys and at times, he was certain, laughed at him and his run-down clothing. Back then, their opinion had hurt. Now, he was beyond caring about the opinions of others. He was who he was. Take him or leave him.
The last two years of school had been tough. His father had taken off and his mother had hit the bottle, hard, leaving Jesse and his older sister, Amy Jo, to work part-time to support the family. Most of the town had cast them pitying looks and offered charity until they realized the Phillips family never accepted anything they hadn’t earned.
“Jesse—” Hailey’s soft voice startled him from the past. She placed a soft, manicured hand on his arm. Her touch was warm through his long-sleeved shirt and set his muscle flexing.
“Sorry. Just thinking.” He stepped away, evading her touch and unspoken enquiry.
“Couldn’t have been a good thought; you were frowning. Your forehead scrunched up like an old man. Want to talk about it?” The question was soft, no pressure.
Somehow, her concern lightened the load he’d been toting for the past twelve years. He flashed her a smile he suspected didn’t meet his eyes. “Just a bit of the past creeping in to haunt me. Nothing to fret over.” Nothing he’d share with her. They’d been friends until his father vanished and he’d withdrawn into himself. Later, when his mother pulled her stunt, all semblance of friendship had vanished on a breath of whiskey.
