26. Deck
Chapter twenty-six
Deck
M onday morning, I arrived at the Center early to work on the bathroom tile. Reign would be in to help later, and I needed to make good progress for the project to remain on track, since it took longer when I spent time instructing them on how to do things.
I was also hoping to run into Cori so I could apologize. I’d been sort of rude yesterday, especially after learning she and her friend Marcus had once been a couple. Been engaged.
It shouldn’t have taken me by surprise. Obviously, Cori had lived her life while I’d been locked up.
Not to mention the past few years. I knew from Johnny that she didn’t date much.
Had Marcus been her only serious relationship?
And was that the kind of man she was into?
A perfectly nice and boring white-collar guy with awesome manners who probably had a closet full of, like, sport coats.
He seemed like the type of person who kept in touch with his fraternity brothers and had a favorite author.
Meanwhile, I’d had to buy a new outfit to avoid embarrassing myself at brunch, and the only reading I did these days was my daily doomscroll through social media.
I thought we’d been getting somewhere on the dance floor. The euphoria of holding her in my arms had flooded my senses. But I’d let myself have it. And made no apologies for wanting it.
Then I met Marcus, and the familiar insecurities came rushing back.
When I reached the office, Cori was on a Zoom call with Quincy, the accountant. I lingered outside, trying not to eavesdrop. Then I heard my name. Quincy’s voice was muffled, but I caught snippets of Cori’s end of the conversation.
“Deck is saving us a ton doing all this repair work for free… I know. I saw the maintenance line item, we will need to fix that… Yeah, the foundation is pulling back on all their grants, so we only have this year… We pushed him on fulfilling his get-or-give commitment, and he quit the board instead… No. Ana feels good about it. Goal is still the same.”
Hearing the click signaling the end of the call, I rapped on the doorframe. Cori sat at the desk—in a new chair—with her head in her hands.
When she looked up, I confessed sheepishly, “Sorry, I might have overheard some of that conversation.”
She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it.
You’re part of the team now, right? None of this is sensitive or confidential.
I can tell you straight out that the Center’s finances are still totally fucked.
We need an influx of money. There’s no way to get out of this with cuts or efficiencies.
We need the gala to make eight hundred thousand.
Minimum. That’ll buy us another year to figure out a long-term plan to remain sustainable. ”
“And if the gala doesn’t make that much?”
Cori’s expression tightened. “We’ll look like a sinking ship. Funders will pull out. It’ll snowball. Donors don’t like throwing money at lost causes. That’s why some of our board members have already bailed. They thought the numbers were too daunting.”
“But Ana is optimistic?” I asked hopefully.
“Honestly, it’s fifty-fifty. We had some promising leads that didn’t pan out.
The good news is, we already have five hundred in pre-funding secured—those are donors who have committed to raising the paddle for certain amounts that night—so finding the other three hundred is possible since we still have two months. ”
“Finding” three hundred thousand dollars sounded overwhelming, but I supposed that was why I was ripping up tile while she pored over spreadsheets. “The Center is lucky to have you,” I told her.
Cori came around to the other side of the desk, crossing her arms and ankles as she leaned against it.
“No, Deck, like I said to Quincy, the Center is lucky to have you . You’re taking on so much work that would otherwise get pushed aside.
It’s no less important than what any of the rest of us do.
” She unfolded her arms. “Actually, check that. Marisol and the program staff have the most important jobs, but the rest of us are necessary too. Including you.”
“Thank you.”
“Out of curiosity, how did you come to be involved in construction? I realize I don’t know much about your life since you got out. Or even before then.”
I scraped a hand through my hair. “Well, I guess it started in prison. I took classes to earn my GED and then my bachelor’s degree.
One instructor suggested that people with my learning style tend to thrive in jobs that involve hands-on work.
I got lucky there was a program that allowed me to learn a trade on the inside, and once I started, everything just fell into place.
There were opportunities for day-release work programs, so I got the experience I needed.
I met Juan there too. He made parole three years before me, and when I was released, he was waiting for me with J&D basically ready to go. ”
“Wow. That’s amazing. He sounds like a great friend.”
“He is. At first, I didn’t want to accept the help—”
Cori snorted. “Sorry. Sorry.” She held up her hands.
I grinned. “But Juan pointed out how stupid and stubborn I was being. We worked out an arrangement where I could buy into the business over time, but he’s never treated me like anything less than an equal partner.”
“That’s awesome, Deck. Truly. I hope I can meet him someday.”
As soon as she said it, I recognized how much I wanted that. To have her meet Juan the way I’d met her friends.
I sighed. “Hey Cori, I’m…uh, sorry… For yesterday.”
Her brow furrowed. “Huh? What happened yesterday?”
“I know I was pretty quiet during brunch. Then I left so quickly. I don’t think I made a very good impression on your friends.”
Her face relaxed. “It’s all good, Deck.” She hopped onto her feet, closing most of the distance between us. “Trust me, they liked you. But as long as you’re bringing it up, is there a reason you were so quiet?”
I felt her breath on the bottom of my chin. Her blue eyes stared up at me. Challenging.
“I…I…don’t know,” I stammered. “Guess I was just… surprised.”
“Surprised?” She angled her head sideways.
I swallowed nervously. Why had I brought this up? ? Estupido ! Of course she was going to ask me to clarify. “Don’t know,” I mumbled. “I don’t know why. I just thought I owed you an apology for clamming up.”
“Hmm,” she replied inscrutably.
“Cori!” Marisol came bursting into the office. “You need to pick up line two. Mr. Samuels is on the phone, and he wants some answers about the allocation of funds.”
“That sounds urgent,” I said, stepping back. Even I knew Evan Samuels was one of the Center’s largest donors. I backed away, grateful for the reprieve. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
Cori sighed. Before picking up the phone, she said, “Deck, I’d appreciate it if we could have lunch today. I’d like to finish this conversation.” Under her breath, she murmured, “Finally.”
The look on her face showed she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Sure thing, Cori.” I stumbled into the hallway.
Terror gripped me. Followed by the freedom of surrendering to the inevitable. I had a few hours to prepare for a conversation we’d needed to finish for twelve years.
The rest of the morning, I deliberated about what to say to her. I kept coming back to the same crazy thought to put it all out there, tell her I’d gotten weird about Marcus because I was jealous he’d gotten to be with her in a way I’d always wanted to be.
It seemed useless to attempt a half-truth or an outright lie. For as long as I’d known Cori Raney, she’d never fallen for anyone’s lines. That quiet competence was one of my favorite things about her.
Over the past few weeks, I’d watched her placate nervous donors and board members, help Ana coordinate sponsors for the gala, and work with Marisol to manage programs so Rosa could be with Lupe.
This was all besides the times I’d caught her having fun on the job—reading to the kindergartners, making dreamcatchers with the upper elementary group, or working the scoreboard for Chuck during an ad hoc soccer tournament.
Cori 2.0 certainly seemed a lot like Cori 1.0, but I got the feeling this grown-up version wouldn’t put up with my mixed signals the way sixteen-year-old Cori had.
This Cori wasn't going to pretend I hadn't held her close on the dance floor. She knew why I’d been shocked into silence after finding out she’d been engaged. She’d stood in front of me just now, practically demanding I admit it.
So I would. That was my plan. After everything we’d been through, I wasn’t going to wait around while she found another Marcus to get engaged to. I was going to tell Cori I wanted something more than friendship.
She knew my flaws, my pain, and my regret. If she wanted me anyway, then I would be grateful, not scared.
Expressing my feelings felt a bit like standing on the edge of a cliff, trying to capture gravity.
But she deserved to have the information and decide what happened next.
And if she wanted to put the genie back in the bottle and tell me it wasn’t a good idea to change things, that we were better off as friends, then so be it.
But I hoped she’d say something else.