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Oh, shit, indeed.
Chapter Three
Melanie - Moments Before
Today has been special. We had a guest speaker to give my father a chance to escape and greet the construction company’s owner. My father didn’t say much, just Mr. Posada was a great guy who offered his help after the news about the fire spread around the state.
“Hey, Ella,” Melissa, my older sister, calls me by my childhood nickname at the end of the service.
Melissa and I tried to pry for more information about the mysterious man, but my father hates gossip. He’s the worst source of information ever. Both of us tried the company website. It just says D. Posada, CEO. No bio, nothing. So annoying.
Google wasn’t helpful either. It came with no answers, so we are full of curiosity. My father summoned the entire family today for lunch to welcome the man who will be around to help with the work for the next six weeks. Maybe the guy is running away from something… a furious wife? LA police department? The heck if I know, but I want to.
“Hey.” I collect some empty water bottles from the can at the exit of the tent we are using as a provisional meeting hall.
“Are you sure you want to watch the girls tomorrow night? This is your first free week after the classes end. Don’t you want to take a nap?”
The irony makes me roll my eyes. “Yeah, sure.” I haven’t had a nap in a very long time, and I’m not overstating for impact.
Four years ago, my life changed was irrevocably. On a weekend trip with some so-called friends, I ended up in bed with a man I had never seen again. Two months later, two blue lines on the test announced my pregnancy. I was sick the whole time, and my water broke before the twenty-seven-week mark when my father rushed me to the hospital.
I fell in love with Davi the first time I saw his beautiful face. He was born with a head full of black hair and dark eyes. Looking like every pinch of the man he will never meet.
Don’t blame me. I tried. I really tried to contact him. I even went to the hotel and tried to get some information. They kicked my ass straight to the gutter. Without a judge’s order, I was getting nothing.
My life is good. There are no reasons to complain…That much. I’m a local elementary school PE teacher and love what I do. I also love my son with all my heart. But he’s a handful, and as a single mother, I mostly do all the work alone. Davi doesn’t like naps. He’s constantly climbing over the furniture, running around my little house, or building forts with my couch’s pillows.
I’m a twenty-nine-year-old zombie. “I think it’s a good idea. The girls are so helpful with Davi. I have more rest when they are around than alone with him in my own home.”
My nieces are fantastic. For them, my son is like a brother from another mother. And he loves having them paying so much attention to him. And well, I’d do anything for my sister.
Since my mother left us when I was around two-year-old, Melissa has taken care of me like a mother hen. It didn’t matter that she was still a child herself. She did my hair every day and helped me with my homework. My sister took me to buy my first bra and my prom dress. Then, she cried with me when I found out about my pregnancy. My sister is my rock, a beautiful woman—inside and out, and I try to help her as much as possible.
“Perfect.” My sister’s face lights up. “John and I want to go to this new boutique hotel in Temecula and….”
The wistful stare she gives me tells me everything. My brother-in-law is a lucky guy. They were high school sweethearts, and John proposed just before departing for basic training in the Army. They got married after his first deployment. Now he’s retired and works at the Sheriff’s Office.
“And you owe me,” I finish for her, half joking. Just half. The idea of leaving Davi at her home for a few hours, then running to mine and finishing all my chores, then closing my eyes and sleeping without interruptions sounds heavenly.
A man clears his throat. “I’m sorry. Do you know where pastor Garfield is?”
“And you are?” My sister asks. He’s not part of the community or a newcomer. We have dedicated time for them at the beginning of the service.
“I’m Greg Marshals. The insurance company sent me to assist with the rebuilding process. We have some paperwork to fill out. But I need to see about that with a Mr. Marcus Garfield,” he explains, and the back of my neck pickles. The insurance is trying to skip its obligations, throwing every excuse on the books to delay it. Last month my father had to hire a lawyer. Fuckers. “I’m here to help.” The man adds, holding his hands up.
“Yeah, sure,” my sister and I say simultaneously.
Then Melissa says, “My father is in a meeting right now. You need to wait.”
He clears his throat again and plays with his necktie. Who the heck wears a tie in Southern California? Even on a Sunday it’s unheard of.
“Miss,” the man says again. “I came a long way just to talk with your father. It’s me or the company lawyer. Your choice.”
This guy has a lot of gall. But he wins this battle, so I turn and look for my father while I adjust the neckline of the shirt dress I’m wearing. After all, we dressed up for the occasion.
It isn’t difficult to find him at the edge of the construction site. Even Davi is with him.
Grrrrr. What is he doing there? He should be at his Sunday school class. See? A handful, that’s my child.
