Chapter 6 A carpet tack in the ass #2
“Hate to be the voice of reason, because I would love to see you two shove each other’s heads through drywall, but you’re basically pissed at something else and making up shit that’s less shitty to fight about,” Levi said.
“When did he become Mr. Know-It-All?” I asked, hooking a thumb at Levi.
“Yeah, Mr. I’m Better Than Everyone Else Because I’m a Tortured Writer Guy,” Cam said, changing alliances.
“It’s called ‘character motivation,’ and I learned it from your fiancée, who would have you sleeping on the couch with a raccoon in a hot second if she heard you making fun of writers, you shithead.”
I wasn’t sure who started the pushing match—I liked to think I was the bigger man and was goaded into it—but within seconds, all three of us were shoving each other into walls.
“This is so fucking stupid,” Levi complained as he fought to secure his headlock around Cam’s neck.
“Yeah, but it feels kinda good,” I said, sweeping his legs out from under him and making them both land in the pile of ripped-up carpet. “Doesn’t it?”
“Better than talking about shit,” Cam agreed, kicking me in the thigh at the same time Levi got a lucky hold on my opposite ankle and dropped me to the floor.
“No one better tell Mom about this,” Levi said as he shoved my face into the underside of the carpet.
Something sharp poked me in the ass. “Who just stabbed me in the ass? The rule has always been no weapons!”
“Uh, hello?”
Fearing for our lives, we all froze and looked toward the door. Thankfully, it wasn’t Mom. It was my paralegal, Declan, dressed in a baby-food-green sweater-vest and white cargo pants, holding his coffee mug.
“Uh, hi, Declan,” I rasped, fighting to sit up. I winced at the sharp stabbing pain. “We were just…”
“Fighting,” Cam said, booting Levi in the ass.
“I came in to change out my mug. I heard a struggle so I investigated,” Declan announced, eyeing us dispassionately.
“Yeah, if you could not mention this to anyone, especially our mother, that would be great,” I said, elbowing Cam in the ribs.
“Okay. Bye.” And with that, he was gone.
“Weird dude,” Cam observed. “I like him.”
“Me too,” I agreed.
“You know, I was just thinking while I was pummeling both your asses,” Levi said.
“If Zoey doesn’t move in here, she can just live with you and Hazel, Cammy.
Wouldn’t be so bad. You just couldn’t have sex in the living room or the dining room or the kitchen anymore.
And you’d have to wear pants outside the bedroom. ”
Cam processed in silence for about ten seconds. Then on a growl, he got to his feet. “Gimme that sledgehammer.”
“Speaking of asses, I think I have a carpet tack in mine,” I announced.
I blamed Zoey for it.
Cam’s sex life effectively threatened and the rusty carpet tack removed from my ass, we worked in silence for an hour, communicating only in grunts and the occasional middle finger.
There was something therapeutic about demolition and construction.
Working with your hands to build something new, something better, was good for the head.
And an acceptable way to blow off enough steam so you didn’t implode. We all needed it.
“Anyone want another beer?” I asked. After the minor ass surgery, we’d managed to clear out the carpet and demo materials and frame out the new, bigger closest. I’d also scheduled a tetanus shot for the next day with Dr. Ace.
Both brothers grunted.
I popped the lid on the cooler and handed out icy lagers.
We took the beers into the living room where there were fewer carpet tacks to sit on and arranged ourselves against the walls.
“So this writing class. How’s it going?” I asked Levi.
He hefted his shoulders and took a pull of his beer.
In general, we Bishops were tougher than a bad clam to get to open up.
But Levi made me and Cam look like Chatty Cathys.
He’d always been the strong, silent type, and after Miller’s death, he’d only gotten stronger and more silent.
Levi had served with Miller in the army, forging a brotherly bond that rivaled our own.
“Good,” Levi said. “We’ve only had a few classes so far.”
“Why are you taking a class with a bunch of senior citizens?” Cam asked.
“Classes are open to the public. There’s other people from town taking it. Scooter’s in it to help his songwriting for the Warblers,” Levi said.
Cam grimaced, which brought joy to my heart. He’d been the target of some vindictive a cappella after breaking up with Hazel last summer.
“How’s the writing going?” I asked Levi.
He tilted his head against the wall and closed his eyes. “Depends on the day. I thought the better I got at it, the easier it would be. But Hazel assures me that’s bullshit.”
Cam shook his head. “I don’t know how either one of you fucking does it. Gimme a nail gun and a stack of drywall, and I’ll make shit happen. But put me in front of a blank page and tell me to make something up that someone else is gonna want to read, and I’d rather nail-gun my head to a wall.”
“I feel like I’m nail-gunning my head to the desk on a daily basis,” Levi admitted.
“We’re gonna have to break into his place and read what he’s working on,” I told Cam.
Cam smirked. “It’s probably about a guy who murders his two brothers.”
“Or a sister who murders her three brothers,” I guessed.
They studiously avoided eye contact with me. I’d done it again and brought up the one topic on everyone’s mind that none of us wanted to address.
I cleared my throat. “Has anyone talked to Laura since the meeting?”
We’d converged on her house, and she’d sent us all packing with the insistence that she was fine and didn’t need our asses hovering over her.
Levi scratched the back of his head. “Nope,” he said.
Cam busied himself picking at the label on his beer. “She hasn’t responded to any of the hilarious memes I sent.”
“The kids say she seems okay but she’s been quiet,” I said.
Levi raised his beer. “Using the niece and nephews to spy. Nice.”
“What the hell are we supposed to say? Sorry the monster who killed your husband is looking at only three years in prison?” Cam said bitterly. “It’s a fucking joke.”
A joke that none of us found remotely funny.
I prided myself on being the easygoing one, but I didn’t know what to do with the rage that simmered under the surface besides tear down walls with sledgehammers.
I believed in justice. I fought for it on a daily basis.
But this didn’t feel like justice. It felt like more trauma.
“What did Mom and Dad say when you talked to them?” Levi asked me.
I blew out a breath. “Not much. I explained vehicular homicide and the potential jail time. Three years is the minimum, but given how reluctant the DA was to file the charges in the first place, it’s likely she wouldn’t get more than that.
Obviously it’s not enough. But as Mom pointed out, nothing is going to bring Miller back or get Laura back on her feet. This is the new normal.”
“The new normal sucks,” Cam muttered.
“Nothing we say or do is gonna make this less fucked up,” Levi pointed out.
We were saved from further discussion by the buzzer downstairs.
I got to my feet. “That’s the new bathroom vanity.”
“Let’s get back to work so we can stop talking about shit,” Cam said, polishing off his beer.
“I’ll drink to that,” Levi muttered as I hit the stairs.
I found two delivery people at the front door balancing a dolly with a box between them. “This here’s one big-ass vanity. Where do you want her, Gage?” the suspender-wearing woman asked in her Georgia-tinged accent as she peered over the massive box.
“Second floor, Ida. Thanks. How’d you get stuck doing Saturday deliveries?” Ida and her husband owned the hardware store just outside town limits.
“Hubs is back in Atlanta helping our oldest put a deck on her place. My nephew here is earning a few bucks and a peach pie for helping out today.” She clapped a hand on her helper’s shoulder.
“More excited about the pie than the cash,” the kid said with a quick grin. “Auntie Ida makes the best peach pie.”
“I appreciate your priorities. Let’s get this upstairs so you can get back to your pie.”
It took the three of us and some creative maneuvering, but we made it to the second floor with the vanity and all body parts still intact.
“That’s not a vanity. That’s a continent,” Levi observed when they left.
Cam glared at me.
“What?” I asked in exasperation.
“You know what,” he muttered.
“Why don’t you go ahead and spell it out for me?”
“The huge-ass vanity, the closet remodel. I’m back to thinking you’re into Zoey.”
“Christ. I am not into Zoey. Do I find her attractive? Of course I do. I’m a man with two eyes.
Anyone would find her attractive. But I’m serious about getting serious.
And Zoey is the opposite of serious. She’s…
” I searched for the words that would convince me to stop thinking about her. “A disaster.”
“He could be lying to himself. But since I already pulled one carpet tack out of someone’s ass today, I don’t feel like fighting anymore,” Levi said.
Cam crossed his arms. “What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting that as long as Gigi stays away from Zoey, the conversation is over.”
“And if I don’t stay away from her?” It was in my blood to argue both sides.
“Cam and I get to kick your ass, and you have to tell Mom you were the one who paintballed the barn door,” Levi said.
I snorted. “I’m not taking the blame for that.”
In our teens, we’d gone through the usual teenage-boy-paintball phase. However, someone had unleashed a neon-green torrent on the freshly painted barn door. Neon green was Levi’s color, so he’d been blamed and punished, though he never once wavered in his insistence of his innocence.
“I’ve taken the blame for almost two decades!” Levi barked.
“Well, you shouldn’t have shot up the barn then,” Cam said.
“I didn’t!” It was nearly impossible to get a rise out of Levi, and given the fact that we’d already ended up in one wrestling match, I figured it was smarter to change the subject. None of us needed more carpet tacks in the ass.
“How’s the wedding planning going, Cammy?” I asked.
Cam scoffed. “Get this. Hazel was thinking about satin for the bridesmaid dresses. Satin.”
“I take it you don’t like satin?” I guessed.
“They’re gonna look like crumpled-up napkins by the end of the night in satin. And don’t even get me started on stains. You ever been to a good party where you didn’t end up wearing at least half a beer?”
“Satin sucks,” Levi agreed, opening the bag of chips I’d squirreled away in the cooler’s zipper pocket.
“You wanna keep bitching, or do you wanna finish the job?” I asked.
Cam smirked. “Keep bitching obviously.”
“Obviously,” Levi agreed.
We managed another hour and a half of productivity without throwing punches.
Even I was pleased with the progress. The new vanity, with its excess of drawers and counter space, was in place.
The old one had been hauled downstairs to the truck.
The new sheets of drywall had been screwed into place in the kitchen and bedroom and were ready for the first coat of mud.
It was starting to look like an actual apartment.
We heard footsteps on the stairs followed by a cheery, “Knock knock!” Hazel stuck her head in the front door, eyes going straight to Cam.
“Hey, Trouble,” he said, suddenly in a better mood than he’d been all afternoon.
“Hi,” she said, crossing to him and laying a kiss on him that belonged on the pages of one of her novels.
Levi and I did the brotherly thing and pretended to dry heave until they broke apart.
“Oh my gosh, Gage! This place is looking great. Zoey’s gonna love it,” Hazel said, clasping her hands under her chin. She was wearing leggings, a ball cap, and a long sweater. Meetcute’s leash was wrapped around her wrist.
“Hold on. You knew he was fixing this place up for Zoey?” Cam demanded.
Hazel slipped an arm through his. “Of course. He texted me. I thought it was a great idea.”
Cam glared at me. “Seems like an awful lot of work for just a rental if you ask me,” he said pointedly.
I ignored him as Levi and I both competed for the attention of our dog nephew.
“Who’s a good dog?” I asked, ruffling Meetcute’s fur.
“That’s what you do for family,” Hazel admonished my pain-in-the-ass brother over her shoulder as she headed in to take a look at the bedroom.
“Yeah, Cam. That’s what you do for family.” I flipped him the middle finger behind his fiancée’s back.
“Oh, she’ll love the closet,” Hazel called.
“But will she love the idiot that made the closet?” Cam mused in a stage whisper.
I threw a clean paintbrush at him and mouthed, Shut the fuck up.
Make me, he mouthed back.
Levi sighed and squished Meetcute’s face in his big hands. “Your uncles are morons.”
Hazel reappeared. “So I have a confession.”
We froze warily.
“What kind of confession?” Cam asked.
“I didn’t stop by just to see the apartment. I came to guilt-trip you all into paying Laura a visit.”
“She doesn’t want to see anyone,” Levi insisted.
“Are you saying that because you think she doesn’t want to deal with the situation or because you don’t want to deal with it?” Hazel asked.
“Both,” the three of us said in unison.
“You’re family. Family is there for each other, especially when it’s awkward and painful.”
“You don’t know Laura like we do,” Cam said. “She’s mean when she doesn’t want to be disturbed.”
“She throws things,” Levi added.
“So do the rest of you. Now get your asses in the car.”