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He’s been extra broody since I saw him at the Yard Goat, but he told me he wasn’t up for talking. I’ve respected his silence. Haven’t prodded him about his feelings.
Maybe that was the wrong move. “I have plans, but you said before you were hankering for a beer. Are you avoiding the Barrel because Jolene’s there? Is that why you wanted to go somewhere out of town? Are things weird with you guys now?”
“I don’t know, Cal. Are things weird withyouand Jo right now?” Irritation sharpens his cheekbones.
Jake is sidestepping, like me. We’re just a couple of anxious evaders, hoping we can outrun our feelings. “I’m here, Jake, whenever you need to talk.”
“Talking won’t help,” he says, dropping his gaze. “Some things can only be fixed with time. Or not at all,” he mumbles under his breath and gets back to work.
It feels like a nail gun has shot through my sternum.
I knew Jake would be upset if Jo didn’t reciprocate his feelings, but he’s hurting more than I expected. Worryingly so. Even after I sabotaged his relationship, and Jo broke up with him, he was down and distracted, but not this forlorn. I’ll have to find a way to reach him. Coax him to open up, and make sure he never learns how close I was to irrevocably breaking his trust.
I join him at the cabinets, both of us hammering and sawing with a little more muscle in our moves. Omar signs off on our permit. I order the proper wood for the window header. We grunt goodbye at each other, Jake driving to some bar that isn’t the Barrel for a drink, while I head to Jo’s apartment to pick up where the landlord’s construction crew left off, so I can hurry up her departure from my home.
chaptertwenty-five
Callahan
A bunch of hours later, I screw in the final sections of drywall, blinking when the board blurs in and out of focus. I stop and swallow hard. Fight the urge to close my eyes.
If the daytime crew working here wasn’t balancing several jobs, Jo’s apartment would have been ready by now. As it stands, her place and the damaged ceiling in the apartment below have turned into a tedious repair job. Taping compound still needs to be applied to the drywall seams. Then sanding, priming, and painting. New carpeting and trim laid down.
I put my drill on the floor, looking around for the taping compound. Good luck with that. Furniture is piled haphazardly and covered with cloths. Tools and supplies are carelessly spread out. I nearly trip and fall over a random saw that could cut someone and do real damage.
“Goddamn lazy construction crews,” I grumble as I move the saw, wondering what other dangerous obstacles are around. This place makes Jolene’s room look like a pristine army barracks.
Unable to find the compound, I trudge to the bedroom, hoping it’s stashed in there.
“Callahan?”
I straighten and freeze. It’s nearing two a.m., and that was a woman’s voice.Jolene’svoice, if I had to hypothesize. Guess she got tired of my evading, andI’mtoo tired to do anything but step in the doorway and sigh at the sight of her. “Hey, Jo.”
Her dark eyes do a sweep of my disheveled self, passing over my stubbled jaw and likely red-rimmed eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Drywalling?” I say it like a question. Like I’m not even sure what I’m doing any longer.
“Why are you drywalling at two in the morning?”
“The crew your landlord hired can barely fit this job in.” I rub my bleary eyes. “Told him I’d do what I can to speed things along.”
“Why?”
“Why?” I swear my brain is functioning in slow motion, words clanging around for purchase.
“Yes,why?” she says. “Why are you working yourself to death, when I have a place to stay? Or is that the issue? You don’t want me in your home anymore?”
“Can we have this conversation later?” When I’m not a minute from falling asleep on my feet.
“Oh, like during the day when I call you and you refuse to answer? Or how about when I pass messages through Omar and you ignore them? Arethosethe times we’re going to talk?”
“Yes?” Her sarcasm is switched to high, but my brain is definitely stuck in quicksand.
“You’re infuriating, you know that?”
“I know.”
“You’ve been avoiding me since the Yard Goat.”
