Chapter 3 Calvin
Calvin
When I step outside later in the morning, ready to go to work, I’m hit with bright sun and a humidity that can peel your flesh off if you aren’t used to it.
I slide on my shades and set my sights on Seth Griffin, my neighbor, as he comes out at the same time, rushing to put his boys on the school bus at the street corner.
I moved into my house five months ago after living in a smaller home for years.
I wanted something larger and in a quieter neighborhood.
Despite being an architect specializing in historical design and restoration, I prefer to live in a new home that doesn’t require remodeling or repairs.
My hours can be long, and I want to relax on my weekends, not work more.
Even then, sometimes I have to bring it home with me, depending on the job.
Since I’ve been living here, whenever I see my neighbor, he looks harried and stressed as he wrangles his three children. What a perfect reminder of why I don’t have any.
His little toddler bursts off in a run, trying to climb on the bus with her big brothers.
“Schoo! Schoo!” she yells.
I grin at the chaos. “You should buy her a leash,” I yell to him.
Seth scowls at me, but he says nothing while he grabs his flailing daughter as she continues to yell ‘school’ over and over. He’s such a good boy, always polite, despite how annoyed he gets with me. It’s fun to push his buttons to see if he reacts. I’m dying for the day he finally flips me off.
He’s kind of cute when he resists that urge.
Hell, he’s always cute, if you like the clean-cut, Boy Scout, preppy type, who’s never said a bad word in his life.
Probably. Most likely. He looks like he belongs in a country club playing golf.
I’d try to get into his bed if he didn’t have a gaggle of kids.
Then again, who wants to sleep with the guy next door?
I’d have to see him all the time after that. Talk about awkward.
His daughter looks like a little chaos gremlin. She’s always climbing shit, running off, and perpetually giving my neighbor heart attacks. It’s quite funny, really. Right out of a sitcom. Better him than me. She’d make a perfect commercial for contraceptives.
I have no idea whether he has a partner, a husband, a wife, or what.
He appears to be single. I haven’t seen any significant others around at all.
I caught him looking at my cock earlier this morning, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.
It’s not like neighbors walk around in their underwear outside a lot.
“Who cares who he likes, Cal?” I mumble to myself.
I don’t know how he does it all alone. Then again, my mother raised me alone, and look how well I turned out. Sarcasm intended. It’s a wonder I’m successful at all.
I wiggle my fingers at him, and he scowls again as I climb into my shiny new metallic-blue Audi A5.
It’s five minutes before eight when I walk into my office. I own the business, so I can come and go when I want, but as my staff grows, it’s good to be available.
I’m the principal designer, but I have two junior designers and one senior designer. I have a project manager, a couple of drafters, and a website designer. My PA, who’s a fucking saint, does her best to keep up with it all. I have no idea how she puts up with me.
I’ve secured half a floor to run my business, and I plan to expand to the entire floor. My goal is to grow more within the next year.
It’s not a huge firm, but I’ve been growing steadily since I opened it seven years ago, and I’m proud of it. Beyond my success, the best thing I ever did for my life and mental state was to leave Houston and get away from my mother.
As soon as I sit down behind my desk, Olivia, my assistant, brings me my usual chicory coffee with a splash of cream and heavy on the sugar.
“Morning,” she says.
“Morning, Olive Oyl.”
She looks nothing like Olive Oyl, with her blonde hair cut into a choppy bob, parted on the side, and her blue eyes.
She rolls said baby blues and sits across from me. I love teasing her. Olivia is a gorgeous woman, and if I were an indecent man, I’d ask her out. Well, I am indecent, but only in bed. And no, I didn’t hire her for her looks. She’s amazing at what she does and requires very little supervision.
Besides, she’s practically my only friend. She was here when my life fell apart four years ago.
“Any big plans for this weekend?” I ask her.
“There’s a bachelorette party I’m being forced to attend. She’s my best friend, so what can you do?”
“Say no?”
Olivia raises a brow at me and scoffs. “How do you say you have no friends without saying you have no friends?”
“Psh, I have friends.”
“Name one. I’ll wait. And your last hookup doesn’t count.”
“Hey, at least we had a conversation.”
“Talking about who’s carrying the lube and condoms doesn’t count as conversation, Cal.”
My PA is the queen of snark. I love verbally sparring with her. “Ouch, we’re in a mood this morning.”
She smirked at me and sipped her own coffee. “One point to Olivia. Besides, you love it.”
“Sigh… I really do. Anyway, I let him cry in my arms after his ex left him at the altar. He even got some snot on my bare shoulder. See? I’m not all bad.”
Olivia nearly spits up her coffee. “I don’t know which is weirder, you holding someone, or your hookup crying after sex.”
“God, when you say it like that… What else could I do?”
Her eyes are full of empathy. “Was it triggering?”
“You know me so well. Yeah, it was a bit.”
“And you held him anyway. Look at you growing up. I’m so proud.”
I huff a laugh and shake my head. “That’s more than my mother will ever tell me.”
Her face softens, and her smile is soft and understanding. Yes, Olivia knows all about my mother as well.
To anyone else looking in, they would’ve been appalled by our unprofessional banter, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Olivia keeps my work life sane.
“Oh, and I do have one friend,” I say.
“Who?”
“You, dumbass.”
“Aww, you’re so sweet when you call me names.”
I chuckle and take a tentative sip of my hot coffee before opening my laptop. “So, what do I have for today again?”
“You have a meeting with Mrs. Cunningham about designing the wing at the children’s hospital in her late husband’s name.”
“Ah, here it is. It’s right after lunch. It’s going to be a boring job, but it’ll pay the bills. Does Dean have the CAD drawing ready?”
“He says he’ll have it by the end of the week.”
Her fingers fly over her tablet as she nibbles on her bottom lip before looking up and smirking at me. “And you have a lunch meeting with the other designers to talk about the restoration of the Eagle Saloon.”
“We worked our asses off to obtain that job. It’s one of the oldest jazz clubs around, so it’ll be nice to get that baby restored to its full glory. Can’t fucking wait.”
“I’m so excited for you, Cal. It’s going to be big.”
“Thanks, Olly.”
She scoffs, stands, and grabs our empty mugs when we wrap up our meeting.
I spend the rest of my morning going over blueprints for other projects we’re working on to ensure there are no mistakes and that everything is going according to plan.
As soon as I pull into my driveway after work and get out of my car, Seth hauls his kids out the door and loads them into the silver minivan. God, even his car is lame.
He’s wearing this egg-yellow sweater tied around his shoulders, a white-and-blue striped polo shirt, and tan chinos. Seth looks like he’s going off to an Easter egg hunt, except that it’s September.
As he buckles in his middle child, his youngest hellion sits her ass in the grass, removes her shoes, and tugs off her T-shirt before running off.
“Dangit, Em!”
Before he can chase after her, his oldest son grabs her before she reaches the street. Then her brother practically throws her into the car.
Seth is pinching his nose, trying to calm himself. It pulls a grin from me. I’m sure he’s a good father, but what do I know? My father was never in the picture.
“Hey, neighbor!” I yell over to him and wave.
He looks up and tentatively waves at me, probably wondering if I’m going to tease him mercilessly or if I’m being genuine. I’m definitely going to tease him.
“How’s the leash hunting going? I’ve Googled some. I found one that’s got a five-point harness, guaranteed not to lose little ones. will ship it overnight. Do you want me to forward the links to you? What’s your email address?”
Seth’s look is deadpanned before getting a squealing toddler into her car seat. She doesn’t seem to like being constrained by anything, including clothes. Honestly, I don’t blame her. I want to be free, too.
My neighbor says nothing, gets into the van, and slowly drives off. God, it’s exhausting watching him wrangle the kids. Thank god, I’m childless.
I chuckle and head inside. After I remove my tie and coat, I pour myself a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.
I dig around in my fridge and pull out some assorted vegetables and the shredded chicken breast I pre-made for a salad when my phone rings. I pick it up from where it rests on the counter, and see it’s my mother calling.
My stomach twists painfully, nuking any appetite I might have had. Each ring reduces my age and height. Every time I talk to her, I’m no longer a thirty-nine-year-old but a nineteen-year-old. Hell, sometimes she brings me back to when I was nine.
“Fuck,” I mumble.
I debate not answering it, but she’s fucking relentless.
She’ll keep calling me until I pick up, then she’ll lay on the guilt thick enough to choke a horse.
Nothing good comes from her phone calls.
They start well enough, but then they devolve into narcissistic cruelty.
That woman can hold a fucking grudge like no one’s business.
She’ll hold shit you did when you were five over your head for a lifetime, or until you beg for fucking mercy.