Chapter 37 Ivan
Monday morning, I'm at the job site before anyone else arrives.
We're wiring a new office building on the east side of town.
It's a big project, the kind that keeps us busy for months.
I like these kinds of jobs. They're steady and predictable, with enough complexity to keep my brain engaged without being overwhelming.
My supervisor, Frank, pulls up in his truck. He's a big guy, former Army, built like a tank, with a buzz cut that's gone gray at the temples. He doesn't waste words or time. I've worked under him for a year now, and he's never steered me wrong.
"Collins," he says, grabbing his tool belt. "You're here early. You trying to make the rest of us look bad?"
"Just wanted to get a jump on things. Finish up that second floor wiring before the drywall crew gets here tomorrow."
He grunts, which is Frank's version of approval. We walk toward the building together, and I decide now is as good a time as any to ask.
"Hey, Frank. I wanted to ask you something. About work."
"Shoot."
"If there's any extra overtime available during the week, any evening shifts or extended days, I'd like to be on the list. First in line if possible." I adjust my tool belt. "I'm trying to save up for some things. Putting money aside for the future."
Frank glances at me. "What kind of things? You in some kind of trouble?"
"No, nothing like that. Just future stuff. Maybe an apartment eventually, helping out a family member who's going through a rough patch."
He nods slowly. "You're a good worker, Collins. Reliable, show up on time, don't complain, do quality work. I can put you on the overtime list. Won't be every day, but when stuff comes up, I'll keep you in mind."
"I appreciate that, Frank. Really."
"Might have some weekend work coming up too, if you're interested.
" He unlocks the site trailer. "Next month we're starting the Riverside project.
It's a big commercial build downtown, tight deadline.
They're going to need guys willing to work Saturdays, maybe some Sundays.
Overtime rates, time and a half on Saturdays, double time on Sundays. It'll be damn good money."
My first instinct is to say no immediately. Weekends are for Jay. But I think about the money. The lawyer he's going to need. Apartment deposits.
"Can I think about it?" I ask. "The weekend thing? I've got some commitments right now on weekends, but things might change."
"Sure, no problem. Let me know by the end of the month either way."
I spend the rest of the day running wire, pulling cable. The day passes quickly. I stay an extra two hours after everyone else leaves. By the time I pack up and head to my truck, it's almost seven.
The house is chaos when I walk in.
Caleb is sprawled on the living room floor, surrounded by plastic dinosaurs. He's making sound effects of roars and crashes. The twins are at the kitchen table, arguing in intense whispers. Rosalyn is at the stove stirring something that smells amazing, humming softly.
"Ivan!" Caleb abandons his dinosaurs and runs over. "Look, look! I got a new one today! It's a Pachycephalosaurus. See? It has a big hard head for ramming things!"
"That's awesome, buddy." I crouch down to examine the toy. "Did you have a good day at school?"
"We learned about volcanoes! Did you know they have lava inside them? Real actual lava! And it's really hot. Hot enough to melt rocks!"
"Super hot," I agree, ruffling his hair.
Rosalyn catches my eye from the kitchen and smiles. "Dinner in ten minutes. Go wash up, everyone."
I help Caleb put away his dinosaurs. At dinner, Diana tells us that she thinks she did okay on her math test. Destiny announces dramatically that she wants to be an astronaut and travel to Mars. Mitchell asks about my day and I tell him about the overtime opportunity.
After dinner, I help Caleb with his reading homework. When we finish, he begs me to read his dinosaur encyclopedia. The Tyrannosaurus Rex section again, his favorite. By the time I tuck him into bed, it's almost nine.
I head to my room, close the door and pull out my phone.
Jay answers on the second ring.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself." I sit on my bed. "How was your day? How did it go?"
"Busy. Really busy. Mick had me working on this Harley that some guy basically destroyed. Took me most of the day just to figure out what was wrong." He pauses. "I called about the arrest this morning. Like I said I would."
I sit up straighter, suddenly alert. "What did they say?"
"I have a court date in three weeks at nine in the morning. The clerk said I need to show up or they'll issue a warrant. She couldn't tell me much else over the phone, just that I should probably talk to a lawyer if I can."
"Did she say what exactly you're charged with?"
"Simple assault and disorderly conduct. Both misdemeanors, not felonies, which I guess is good.
" He lets out a shaky breath. "She said first offenses usually don't mean jail time if you show up and cooperate.
But there's fines. Probably community service.
And it all goes on my permanent record unless I can get it reduced or dismissed. "
"That's exactly what I read. A good lawyer might help." I pause. "What did she say about lawyers?"
"She said I can request a public defender if I can't afford a private attorney. But public defenders are really overworked. They've got like a hundred cases each. So, they don't always have the time or energy to really fight for you."
"Yeah, I've heard that too."
"Basically, my options are try to pay for a lawyer I can't afford, or get assigned one who doesn't have time to help me." He laughs without humor. "Great choices."
"We'll figure something out. I meant what I said about helping."
"I know. Can we table that discussion for now? Give me time to think it through?"
"Yeah. Of course." I shift on the bed. "How are you doing with all of this? Really?"
"It's terrifying if I let myself think about it too much." He's quiet. "But I'm handling it better than expected. Kept myself busy today. Stayed focused."
"That's good, Jay."
"I'm trying."
"I know you are. I can hear it in your voice."
I stretch out on the bed. "Tell me about the Harley. What was wrong with the wiring harness? Walk me through it."
He starts explaining, getting into the technical details. He's more animated, more confident. This is Jay in his element. I listen and ask questions, not because I understand even half of what he's saying, but because I love hearing him like this. Confident and engaged.
"You really love this kind of work," I say when he pauses. "With motorcycles."
"Yeah, I guess I do. It's one of the few things I'm actually good at."
"Don't say that. You're good at a lot of things. You're good at surviving impossible situations. You're good at protecting people. And you're the best at being exactly who I need."
He's quiet for a long moment. "Ivan..."
"It's true."
We talk until almost eleven. About motorcycles and dinosaurs and Rosalyn's cooking. About Caleb's volcanoes and Diana's anxiety and Destiny's astronaut dreams. About the stray orange cat. About everything until we're finally talked out for the day.
When we finally hang up, I feel lighter.
He's trying.
Maybe this is going to work after all.