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Chapter Twelve
Ryan
Occasionally, we have to work a Saturday. With Orlando out for the unforeseen future, I’ve been filling in more as needed at the job site. Sure, I could hire another guy to fill the vacancy, especially with the Hazelton job on the brink of breaking ground, but it doesn’t feel right. Not to Orlando and not to the poor guy who’d probably be gone as soon as he returned.
The problem with filling in is that I’m left with barely any time for the office side of the business. I’d prefer swinging a hammer or running a table saw to signing papers and talking to suppliers on the phone all day, but if I neglect the office side, I find myself up shit creek without a paddle.
Mary helps. Mary helps a lot. Shit, there are days I wonder if I’d even have a business left if not for her. This week has been one of those times. Without Orlando, I’m onsite all day long, which is why I worked at the office until almost ten last night. Mary left me several piles of paperwork to sign. Contracts, bids, purchase orders, supplier and material lists, it was all waiting for me on my desk. Five hours it took me to comb through all the things I’d neglected during the week. Five hours of busy work that helped kill time until I could text Jaime.
She had a pizza night with a few of her sisters last night. That’s one of the things I admire about her. She’s super close to her family. Even though I have three siblings of my own, we’ve all drifted in our adult lives. I talk to my mom on the phone at least once a week, and receive texts or phone calls from my siblings when they can be squeezed in, but nowhere near the steady communication that the Summer family has.
I’m actually a bit envious. They’re close. Sometimes, a little too close, but that’s not always a bad thing. As long as they know where to draw the line between personal and complete invasion of privacy. So far I haven’t seen anything to get worried about. Unless we’re talking about Emma. Something tells me that woman doesn’t know the meaning of privacy.
And what is up with Grandpa Orval? I haven’t had someone offer me protection this much since I was sixteen and getting ready to take Kim Kohlson to the homecoming dance.
I can’t help but chuckle as I load up the job trailer with the job tools. One of my first purchases for the business was a large enclosed trailer, which works perfectly to haul tools and equipment from one job site to another. It’s a beautiful, sunny mid-June afternoon, and it looks like the rest of the weekend should be much of the same.
I’ve had little time to plan my date for tonight with Jaime. When she replied to my text last night accepting my invitation, I was giddy with excitement. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if I tried, and it took me a while to fall asleep. I was excited to see her again, and even more excited at the prospect of her joining me in bed. It was a long, uncomfortable night to say the least.
After securing the trailer and waving goodbye to my guys, I jump in my truck and head for home. I’ve got just enough time to take a shower before I head over to her house. Plans for this evening will have to be made on the fly, but that’s all right. As long as she’s by my side, I don’t give a shit what we do. Hell, maybe I’ll take her to see the new chick flick at the cinema uptown. Women love that stuff, right?
First thing I notice when I pull into my half of the driveway is Mrs. Hanson out front, squatting on the ground and pulling weeds in the flower garden. How a woman who’s eighty still gets up and down so agilely as she does is beyond me. There are days where my bones creek and pop just getting out of bed. My muscles scream in protest as I bend over to lace my boots. In my line of work, I’m hard on my body, and more often than not, I feel all of her eighty years opposed to my own thirty-two.
“I’m planning to mow tomorrow,” I tell her as I slip out of my truck and walk around to where our dual doors meet at the garden she’s pruning.
“That’s fine, child. I’m just taking care of a few pesky weeds.”
“I could get those for you, you know,” I offer, watching her wrinkled hand wipe at her forehead, leaving behind a smudge of dirt.
“Tsk tsk, boy. This is my favorite part of the day. Besides, not only are you working more hours, but you have a lady friend to entertain.” She tries to mask her smile, but she fails miserably.
Why am I not surprised that Mrs. Hanson would know about Jaime. “Dare I ask how you know about my lady friend?” I ask, setting my bag on the porch before dropping down to sit on the step beside her.
“Besides the fact that you haven’t been very subtle when sniffing around for information about Miss Jaime Summer, I can’t ignore the fact that her entire family showed up here bright and early, looking for her last weekend when she failed to come home Saturday night.”
My eyebrow raises in question.
“What? I was on my way to church, and I ran into Orval in the driveway.”
“Sure. You probably had a glass against the wall.”
“No need for that, son. These walls aren’t as thick as you’d probably hoped. I was well aware you were entertaining.”
Flames shoot up my face and I look down. “Well, that’s embarrassing.”
“From what I heard, you have nothing to be embarrassed about,” she says, laughter oozing from each word.
I shake my head and finally glance up, meeting her aged blue eyes. “I like her. A lot.”
“I can tell. She’s different than the other one.”
I know exactly who Mrs. Hanson is talking about. When I moved to Jupiter Bay, Sara moved in with me for a short period of time. Of course, spending her entire life here, Mrs. H was well acquainted with the woman I dated. After the relationship ended for good, she finally told me exactly what she thought of Sara Sullivan. I believe her exact words were spoiled, selfish, and gold digging.
“She’s very different than Sara. I never really saw myself settling down with Sara. I hate to admit, but she was convenient. But Jaime? I see forever, and I don’t even know her. Isn’t that crazy?”
“Love is crazy, child. The best kind of crazy. It makes you want to dance in the rain and scream from the mountaintops. Love makes you feel like flying, even when you have no wings. But, it’s also terrifying. I promise you that when you find the right love–your true love–there’s nothing else like it in the world. Love is the greatest feeling of all. It’s the ultimate gift.”
“Who said anything about love?” I ask, giving her a slight smile.
