Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Holden Rose
“Damn, that guy nearly got picked off by that firetruck. I realize there might be a deadly fire, but shouldn’t taking out pedestrians figure into the mix?”
My heart was in my throat as I watched the firetruck not even brake as it barreled down Ballwin Lane where a blond guy was crossing the street outside the crosswalk.
The sidewalk on the north side of the street where he’d come out of a gym was under construction, so I could see his point, but damn that was a close call.
“Smoke looks like it coming from the direction of the port. There’re a lot of warehouses over there where homeless people sleep this time of year when it’s so damn cold.
” Steve Roper, my business partner, pointed out the window of our work truck as we finished our late lunch in the parking lot of a fast-food joint.
I was a quarter owner of Tire and Track Rescue, a tire and track link repair business for heavy duty construction and paving equipment.
If necessary, we’d bring replacement tires to a job site, but that required more than just Steve and me.
That was at least a four-man job... I shouldn’t say man because our third business partner, Shelby, was a woman.
She was a bodybuilder, and a competitive weightlifter who could kick all three of our asses without breaking a sweat.
Ours wasn’t a glamorous job, but we were one of only two such businesses in the state of Maryland.
Sometimes, we traveled to DC, Virginia, or Pennsylvania if needed.
Shelby worked with our fourth partner, Homer, who was also a wizard on hydraulic motors, which was sometimes needed.
The work was hard, but none of us would trade what we did for a desk job.
I tossed the trash and started the truck, backing out of the spot to get back to work. “Yeah, I hope we can get this one fixed in a hurry. My old bones don’t like being out on days like this.” Steve glanced at the GPS on his phone. “Turn right in a mile.”
We were on the way to a housing construction site outside Waldorf, Maryland, where an asphalt paver had a broken track we needed to repair. It had snowed about two inches, which had melted, but the ground was wet, so we were going to be freezing when we finished.
It was the type of afternoon that reminded me of one of the worst nights in my family’s lives. I had to get those thoughts out of my head before I couldn’t do the job we were being paid handsomely to do.
Four hours later, well after dark, we were soaked as we drove back to our little corner of Baltimore, I couldn’t wait to get home. We had both worn our insulated coveralls, but after rolling around in the mud trying to repair the track, I asked myself if it was really worth it.
“You goin’ home for Christmas?” Steve asked.
Christmas was a tough time for my family.
Every year I told myself I wasn’t going to Manassas for the holidays, but in the end, I gave in and went to my parents’ house on Christmas Eve in the afternoon and stayed until the day after.
All we did was sit in the family room and watch old home movies of Holly’s dance recitals from when she was still with us.
My sister died in a car accident at twenty-three.
It was almost like a family grief purge the way we carried on, but it had been going on now for seven years. I believed it wouldn’t be what my sister wanted for those of us left behind.
“I haven’t decided for sure, but I’ll probably give in and go like always.” I already knew I would.
“Maybe you should hire a therapist to go with you. If your parents won’t consider going to one, maybe you should just take that guy you’ve gone to see a few times.
” Steve knew everything about me and my issues.
I didn’t keep secrets from him, Shelby, or Homer.
We were partners, and the key to our success was open communication.
“Dr. Thomas? Huh. That would probably be the best gift I could give them.”
I changed lanes to get into the far left in hopes of getting through the sea of red taillights as I drove us back to Cedars, a sleepy little suburb west of Baltimore.
I drove myself home first so Steve could take the truck back to the shop and pick up his Corvette, or as I called it, his mid-life crisis. I hopped out and grabbed my coveralls from behind the seat to launder and dry for the next day.
After a wave to Steve, I let myself into my small brick house, took off my boots to carry them to the mudroom, and flipped on the front porch light. “Oscar!”
The clicking of puppy nails on the hardwood made me smile, as did his tail going a hundred miles an hour. He was my rescue dog—part dachshund and part God only knew, though I believe he rescued me more than I rescued him.
He was a low rider, with legs about three inches long, a fat belly that nearly brushed the ground, and a loving demeanor that was great to have waiting for me at home.
“Hey, Oscar. How are you, buddy?” I picked him up and gave him a cuddle before putting him on the floor.
When I lowered his food and water bowls to the ground, Oscar licked my chin.
“I’ll be back and take you out to do your business. Don’t make a mess, please.”
Turning, I went out to the mudroom, stripping off my clothes after tossing my coveralls into the wash for a long cycle. I’d need to clean out the lint traps and run a self-clean cycle before washing any of my other clothes. Nobody wanted gravel in their underwear.
I pulled my robe from the basket of clothes I’d washed and dried the previous night, shoving my arms into it while I went to turn up the thermostat. I went to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge, then I headed back to my bathroom.
After I turned on the water in the shower, I stepped in, taking my beer and putting it on the empty soap dish above the spray. My mind wandered back to the night of Holly’s accident, a week before Christmas.
Holly had mentioned to me during our weekly chat that she was planning to go home early from New York since she wasn’t in the holiday performances for “A Midsommer Night’s Dream” at the Delacorte Theater where she was in the chorus.
I decided to leave for our parents’ house early and took the week before Christmas off, promising Shelby I’d be back on the day after Christmas to take their place answering emergency calls through the new year.
They were going to the Bahamas with their then-girlfriend, so it worked out perfectly.
The sound of Holly’s voice on my voicemail was still fresh as if it just happened earlier in the day.
“I have some big news for you guys. You’ll never believe what happened. No, I’m not telling you yet. You’ll have to be at Mom and Dad’s for Christmas to hear the news. Love you!” The excitement in her voice still made me smile when I listened to it every Valentine’s Day on her birthday.
Unfortunately, we never heard the big news from Holly. We heard it from one of her roommates. A truck ran over her little Prius on the turnpike because the driver was blitzed on cocaine and going far too fast down an icy hill. My sister didn’t die immediately, but she didn’t wake up to say goodbye.
I shook my head and quickly washed up when the water started cooling. God, those thoughts would make for a horrible night’s sleep. The first sign of snow always brought out the melancholy.
It was no surprise that I dreamed of Holly that night in her high school dance team uniform during a basketball game.
She had been a dancer since she was three, and except when I was attending auto vocational school in Northern Virginia, I went to all her recitals and exhibitions.
The high school basketball games were a bit more difficult to attend, but I made it work when I could. I wouldn’t miss one if I could help it.
When I woke in a cold sweat at four in the morning, I was grateful. My phone chimed on the nightstand, so I sat up and grabbed it.
FYI – no calls today. Look outside. Merry Christmas. Shelby
I stood and walked over to my window to see the reflection of the streetlights on about six inches of fresh powder. Yeah, nobody would be working today.
The snow was still coming down, so I went back to bed. Nobody needed to be up that early.
I woke at seven and sat up, seeing Oscar with his paws on the mattress as he patiently waited for me to get my lazy ass out of bed.
“Come on up, little boy.” I hauled Oscar up on the bed as I turned on the morning news to find out how much more snow we were going to get.
He curled up on the empty pillow next to mine and nodded off again.
That pillow hadn’t been used in a very long time, so sometimes I’d let Oscar sleep there, but I didn’t make it a habit.
When my dog became a substitute for a hard body in my bed, I was going to give up completely on finding happiness ever after.
“Let me get dressed, and we’ll get our day started.”
Once I had on warm clothes, I put Oscar’s wool coat and snow boots on before sliding on my own. When I opened the back door to lead Oscar out, I looked at the thermometer on the back porch to see it was twenty-eight degrees. Really fucking cold.
I glanced down at Oscar. “Buddy, do your business fast. It’s cold as a witch’s titty out here.” My dad used to say that during the winter, but I was sure he meant no disrespect to witches.
The wind through the maple and oak trees in my backyard sounded like Holly’s laugh, which made me smile. I heard it every now and again when I really needed to feel connected to her. It was a huge comfort.
We went around the garage to the street, which had been bladed already.
When we finished the walk, I’d need to get out with the shovel for my driveway and sidewalks, which reminded me of my parents.
Neither of them should be shoveling snow, and the Clemmons boy who used to do it went off to join the Navy.
Once Ossie was done with his morning bathroom business and sniffing every damn bush, rock, and spot of sidewalk, we went back into the house.
I took off Oscar’s boots and coat before mine, storing things in the mud room.
He got excited when he saw me sidling up to the stove to make him some runny scrambled eggs to go over his dry food.
I turned on the local radio station for a little holiday atmosphere.
Christmas music filled our kitchen, and I grinned.
I glanced into the living room, seeing my little tabletop artificial tree covered in multicolored lights.
Sadly, that little tree was the only holiday cheer I had.
My sister’s death overshadowed everything.
After I served Oscar his breakfast and ate the rest of the eggs myself, I picked up my phone, took a deep breath, and called my parents’ landline.
Mom answered. “Hello?”
I laughed. She had caller ID, but she never checked it. “Mom, it’s me. How are you and Dad? Did you get as much snow as I did in Maryland?”
Mom laughed. “We got a fair bit, but nothin’ we can’t handle. How about you? How’s business, Holden?”
“It’s good. Well, we’re off today because of the snow, but we worked late last night fixing the track on a big paver.
With the snow we got, nobody’s working today.
What’s going on with you and Dad? Tell me you’re not shoveling the snow, please.
I can call a company and have them out there this afternoon. ”
Mom softly laughed. “Now, son, there’s no need to waste your money. Dad and I take turns shoveling, plus, we have nowhere to go anyway. So, what’s new? Are ya comin’ down for Christmas?”
I sighed. “You know, Mom, I could have someone bring you and Dad up here for the holidays.” Maybe if we were at my place, it would be a much-needed change of scenery for our family?
“Aw, now, Holden, you know it wouldn’t be Christmas if we weren’t home. We need to pay tribute to Holly at the last place she lived. We can’t do that at your place.”
I wanted to hang up but she was my mother. “Mom, maybe we could. I mean, I loved Holly as much as you and Dad, but it’s been seven years. We need to come to terms with her death and heal, you know?”
Mom was silent before there was a rustling over the line. “Holden? Son, it’s Dad.”
I released a heavy breath. “Dad, where’d she go?”
Dad stalled for a moment before he answered. “She handed me the phone and went into her sewing room. What happened?”
God, I made the mistake I’d avoided for years. What the hell was wrong with me?