Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
“So let me get this straight, you dragged me out of bed early to pick up an item that will not be sold, nor will you be paid for it?” Dean asked as they exited the truck.
“Like you haven’t given away jewelry to dates?” The December air nipped around them as they headed to the building. Leo pulled out his keys to get through the outside door.
“And you’re going to spend how much time and resources on this thing?”
Leo headed for the stairs. “It shouldn’t take too much; I want to get it back to her by the end of Chanukah.” He started up, taking them two at a time, only stopping when laughter echoed up from below.
He sucked in a breath, then faced the thorn in his side ten steps below.
“You really like her, huh?”
Leo glared.
Dean held up his hands. “I know, you’ve talked about her for years. But from what you said, this isn’t a simple replacing the batteries or fixing a wobbly leg.”
“It does have a wobbly leg.”
Dean crossed his arms and waited.
“Your point?”
“This isn’t something you do for a neighbor you have the hots for who will be moving away in a few months.”
The words connected with the emotions swirling around inside Leo. “Think of it as a parting gift.” Leo climbed the stairs again.
The soft sounds of mumbling hit his ears. He turned and Dean nearly plowed into him.
“What was that?”
Dean straightened. “I said, one hell of a parting gift. Maybe don’t storm off if you want to hear what I’m saying.”
“Maybe don’t mumble things you know I can’t hear.”
They stared at each other for a moment before Dean sighed and moved ahead. Leo shook it off.
On his floor they bypassed his unit, going straight to Andie’s. He’d had to get up earlier than usual to get the desk before she left for work. Today, he’d be surviving on caffeine and adrenaline alone.
Leo knocked, and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting.
“So what do we have to look forward to? Next year we’ll lose the business and you’ll lose her—so much for a happy new year.”
“We’re not losing the business,” Leo ground out.
“And Andie?”
He sighed. “She’s got a good job offer. Fixing a desk doesn’t make up for that.”
The conversation stopped there when the door swung open and a bright-faced Andie stood in front of them. Her hair hung in damp waves around her face. “You made it.”
She wore jeans and a red sweater, a beaded necklace around her neck he bet came from a student.
“Andie, this is my brother, Dean.”
Dean waved and Andie stood back, letting them in.
“I see the resemblance.”
Dean nudged Leo. “That means she realizes I’m the pretty one.”
Leo shook his head and stopped in front of the desk. A new box sat nearby, holding all the items the desk used to store. “You got everything you need?” he asked Andie.
“Yup.” She nodded and bit her lip nervously.
Leo stopped investigating the desk, even though Dean didn’t. “What’s wrong?”
Andie stepped over, placing a hand on the desk. “This hasn’t been away from me for as long as I can remember.”
“I’m going to make it better, nothing bad will happen to it.”
A hesitant smile graced her lips. “I know. I trust you.” She stepped back and the weight of her words carried through. He was just her neighbor, a momentary companion in her life. And yet she trusted him with something she wanted as a permanent fixture.
In some strange way, a small part of Leo would stay with Andie wherever she went. He’d make an impact on her life. Not the one he would have preferred, but knowing she trusted him warmed him deep inside.
“This is a real beauty,” Dean said. “Who gave it to your mom?”
“Dad thinks it came from her grandparents, but unfortunately, we don’t know the full story, just that she loved it dearly.”
“Leo’s the best at what he does. Don’t you worry about a thing. It will look brand new when he’s done with it.”
Leo stood a little taller at his brother’s praise, and Andie’s smile widened. “I don’t know if an antique needs to look brand new, but I’ll settle for in better shape.”
Dean patted Leo on the shoulder. “Your expectations are too low for his skills.”
“Better than latkes?”
Leo laughed and shifted the desk out from the wall. “Decidedly so.”
The brothers worked together and moved the desk to the door. It wasn’t so heavy that one person couldn’t maneuver it, but he wanted the extra person to be sure he didn’t have any issues.
“Need a final goodbye? Picture for insurance purposes?” Dean joked.
“No, that’s okay. I know where your brother lives.”
They got the item into the hall, Andie lingering at her open door.
“I promise you; you won’t regret this.”
The caution had vanished from her face, her eyes now sparkling in a hall that often didn’t allow for such. “I don’t think I will.”
He nodded. “Good.” And then, because she lingered, because he wanted to, he kissed her. Short and sweet, a hallway kiss. But a kiss nonetheless. “See you tonight, Andie.”
She licked her lips. “Tonight.”
Leo gave his brother credit, he waited until the door closed and they were by the elevator to talk. “Dang, that was hot.”
“Shut up.”
“Shame she’s moving, you two seem good together.”
The elevator dinged and they carried the desk inside. “Yeah. We are. But life doesn’t care about that.”
“Well maybe next time you won’t take so long.”
The doors closed. “Lesson learned.”
Dean took off after the desk had been brought to the workroom, but Leo stayed back to investigate. He had the desk propped up on a workbench, checking it out on all sides. The wobbly leg wiggled too much for his liking, but he knew the type of construction and would be able to figure out the fix. It needed a good cleaning, if he was lucky, one good cleaning would be all it needed, but he wouldn’t know for sure until he got to work. The drawer would need to be taken apart, but he’d get it working again.
Underneath all the years of harmful chemical cleaners—he really needed to educate Andie—it was still a beauty. A good, strong heirloom piece, one that easily fit in with multiple styles and decades. He’d return this to Andie, and if she ever had kids, maybe one day they’d cherish it like she did.
The little things in life were the ones that truly mattered. A sentimental piece of furniture, a date with a neighbor. One of the things that made him proud to do his job, because he sold and repaired items that had meaning and history to them.
Leo got to work, starting with the drawer so he knew exactly what he was dealing with. He tested it, pushing and pulling, noting the thing was solid. Too solid. On his hands and knees, he checked the underside, flashlight in hand, blinking at what he found. A screw. He didn’t know if this was a botched attempt at fixing it, or if it had ever had a purpose. Over time the screw had loosened and wedged the drawer shut.
“Who did this to you?”
He got up and grabbed some tools, wondering who in Andie’s family thought this was a good idea. And why. But like most of the items he got in his shop, no one was alive to tell him the answer.
He settled back down, flashlight in his mouth, so he could cut the head off the stripped screw. Finally, the drawer came free and Leo stumbled over what he held in his hands.
Not an empty drawer.
In fact, the opposite of empty. The drawer was stuffed with items, mostly papers. A page on top had the word “Andie” written in large, loopy cursive. Cautious of snooping, but needing to know what he’d found, Leo lightly shuffled through, noting what looked like a great deal of notes and old photos along with other random mementos inside.
He didn’t know what it all meant, for all he knew these would be not so welcome memories. Curiosity stirred, but it wasn’t his desk or his belongings. He settled the findings back in the way he’d found them, careful to keep whatever organization they had, as much as he possibly could.
He cleaned the wood with alcohol and steel wool, scrubbing extra at anything that didn’t bring character to the mahogany. He thought of Andie as he worked, paying close attention to all the rings and any scuffs, demanding a level of perfection higher than his usual perfectionist self adhered to. This was Andie—she deserved his best. When finished, he set it to dry.
Footsteps echoed in the shop, and before he had a chance to properly prepare himself, his father appeared. Glen Dentz stood tall and thin, with white hair and more forehead than he used to have. Wrinkles lined his eyes, and his trademark beard had been in place for longer than Leo could remember.
As usual, Glen spoke before getting close enough for Leo to hear. Twelve years with a hearing loss and his father still couldn’t remember to speak up.
“I can’t hear you.”
Glen’s eyes rolled as he came closer, a frown now accentuating his beard. “You can never hear. How can you run a business when you mishear?”
Leo clenched his jaw. If he could never hear then how did he hear that? The world had plenty of people with a variety of disabilities with successful jobs and careers. His ears didn’t create the barrier, people like his father did.
“How can you run a business when you don’t listen?” Sure, Leo missed a thing or twenty, but his father had stopped listening a long time ago.
“We need to talk about selling,” Glen said, proving Leo’s point.
“Gladly. How much do I owe you?” Leo crossed his arms, widened his stance, prepared for a fight that wouldn’t turn physical.
Glen sighed as though he were the only one tired of this game. “You two have yet to prove you have what it takes to carry on this business.”
“Why not? We haven’t been running the shop mostly on our own for the past two years? Dentz Antiques was only supposed to be two generations? I’m here, I’ve got my blood, sweat, and tears in this shop. Both your sons are working here and ready to carry the mantle, but you don’t want us to.”
“Because our two biggest losses are due to both my sons.”
Leo ground his back teeth together. “So let me fix the clock.” It stood in the corner, in his peripheral vision, eavesdropping on nearly every fight about it and silently mocking him. Sure, it was only one of the issues, but it was the one he could make shine.
“And the money lost from the last brother purchase?”
“We’re working on a solid find to cover that mishap. It won’t happen again.”
“Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.”
Leo glanced up at the heavens, wondering if his grandfather wanted to punch Glen or had brought out the popcorn. “You never made a mistake as a kid? Because if you never wanted me to take over, then maybe you shouldn’t have stuck me on store duty when I was sixteen.”
“You couldn’t handle the store then and you can’t manage it now.”
Fire burned deep in Leo’s gut. Back then he’d been a bratty teenager, now he had a disability.
“I have buyers interested, they’re willing to pay what this business is worth. We’re meeting the first week of January to sign papers.”
Giving Leo or Dean a chance was never going to be an option. He pushed past his father, in desperate need of fresh air that had nothing to do with the chemicals he’d been using. It didn’t matter what he did, all his father saw was the sick kid with too high fevers and too many ear infections. Or the spindly pimple-faced kid who had to make a few mistakes to figure himself out.
The memory held as clear as if it had just happened, the years slipping away and placing him back in his sixteen-year-old shoes. It had been the day of THE party, the biggest one of the season, hosted by the most popular kids at school and he had scored an invite. The ragged piece of paper had burned a hole in his back pocket. He’d been two feet out the door before his dad dragged him in, forcing him to not only look after the store, but also his brother.
Leo decided then and there that his life sucked.
He kicked at the leg of the old, worn table, the one his father had been working on for weeks to restore. On a normal day Leo would enjoy the time to inspect the progress, perhaps even do a little work on it himself.
Not today.
He kicked the table again, though he’d have to take something a lot harder than his sneaker to it to make any damage in the century old wood. His crush was going to be at the party. He’d be able to grab a drink, make a move. By next week she’d have been his girlfriend.
Instead, she started dating Rick Leibowitz and Leo got stuck in this old, stuffy store, with its old products and its old customers where nothing exciting would ever happen to him again.
He’d groaned and tugged at his too long hair. His mother would make him get a haircut soon, whether he wanted one or not. Story of his life, doing things he didn’t want to do because he wasn’t old enough to move out of the house or go to college like his sister.
“What’s crawled up your shorts?”
Dean. His “little” brother. Though the twelve-year-old had already passed five feet.
“I’m here. And I’m not wearing shorts.”
Dean snickered and tossed a football from one hand to the other. “Ever hear of an expression?”
“Ever hear that I can kick your ass?”
“Dude, you sure are sour.” Dean tossed the ball and caught it again. “Go to the stupid party. I’ll watch the store.”
“You’re twelve.”
Dean stood taller, the thin line of hair on his upper lip becoming more pronounced. “I’m almost thirteen. My bar mitzvah’s in two weeks.”
“An almost adult of the temple does not mean you can handle customer questions and credit cards.”
Dean tossed the ball again. Shrugged. “Your social funeral.” He walked away, ball shooting above his head, then slapping into his hands. Above. Slap. Above. Slap.
Leo’s last thread threatened to snap.
“Give that to me,” he ground out between his teeth.
Above. Slap. Above. Slap.
“I said, ‘give that to me!’”
Slap.
Dean turned. “What?”
“Give me the ball.”
“What? No. What did I do?”
“Annoyed me.” Leo stomped over to his brother and grasped at the football.
“Hey, wait, that’s mine!”
Dean tugged back, but Leo refused to loosen his grip.
“This ball is annoying me. Let go.”
“It’s not your ball!”
They began shoving at each other, neither letting go, haphazardly moving around the shop.
“Do you really want to do this with me?”
“It’s my ball, let go and I’ll leave.”
Leo groaned. “Fine.”
He let go with a shove, his lanky brother thrown off balance. The next few moments played out in slow motion. Dean losing his balance. Dean stumbling backward. Dean colliding with the old grandfather clock that had been a staple of Dentz Antiques for longer than either of them had been alive combined.
Both Dean and the clock came crashing to the floor, taking a shelf of expensive plates with them. A chorus of crashes filled the air as one after the other shattered to the ground. Plates on display for a special sale that weekend.
Dust filled the air, or so it seemed, slowly dispersing to reveal the rubble of destruction left behind. One fight over a silly football and the damage had to be in the tens of thousands of dollars.
Leo knew how superheroes felt at the damage they left behind.
Dean groaned and Leo stepped over a pile of broken ceramic and wood to give his brother a hand. “You okay?”
Dean stood and brushed off the dust. “I … think so.” He turned, surveying the damage. “You might as well kill me, I’m dead after this.”
Leo swallowed some dust and managed not to choke. “No. I’m the one who’s dead.”
Dean looked up. “We both are.”
In the end, Leo took the brunt of the blame, even if Dean never believed himself to be innocent. Dad blamed the oldest. Leo had been in charge, and even at sixteen, he knew better.
Two months later he’d gotten sick and nothing was ever the same again.
The cold air welcomed Leo as he stepped outside and brought him back to the present, helped by the wind rustling against his hearing aid microphones. Yeah, he had known better. But growing up meant making mistakes and learning from them. He learned from this one, as did Dean. The only person in the world who didn’t see it was Glen. And now he’d take this grudge and not only destroy a family business, but also take away Leo and Dean’s legacy.
Leo still believed he could prove his worth to his father. He knew he could take over the business and do it right. But unless his father learned the meaning of forgiveness, all would be lost.
If only Millie was right, and that menorah was magic. Because Leo knew exactly what he’d wish for.