9. Cal
Cal
“ W hat’s wrong? What can I do to help?” I ask as I pull a shell-shocked Jules away from the sidewalk edge. When I saw her standing there looking dazed and confused, tears on her cheeks, and about to step out in front of oncoming traffic, my heart lurched.
“I don’t know.”
Her voice is small, and all I can wonder is… who died? Because, clearly, something happened if she’s this out of it.
I’ve seen the signs of shock in patients before, and she’s right on par.
“Do you need to sit?” With a hand on the small of her back, I lead her down the sidewalk. There’s a bench halfway down the block, well away from the bustling traffic that she almost stepped into.
“No.”
“Have you eaten?” Maybe she’s got low blood sugar or something.
“No.”
“How about we start there. Mommie’s Empanadas is at the park today. Let’s go grab some food and see if that helps.”
She nods and falls into step beside me, but I don’t move my hand.
Devastation and desperation are written all over her, and my protective instinct has taken over.
I want to hold her hand, or maybe pull her into my arms. Slay her dragons, cut down whatever motherfucker put her in this catatonic state.
We pass by her empty storefront, her breath hitches, and it hits me.
Whatever’s wrong has to do with her coffee shop. For reasons beyond me, I want to know what it is. But I need to get her talking first. I go with the most mundane topic.
“So, Charlie basically ditched me as soon as we got to Nancy’s this morning. One of the twins came up and hugged her, and she toddled off without a backward glance,” I say, trying to distract her.
“Which one?” she asks, her voice still hollow, but she’s at least engaged.
“I’m not sure of their names. The one with the lock of long hair on one side.”
“That’s Rowan. River is the other twin. He’s got blond curls. Rowan’s is redder, with one little section that’s brown and grows three times as fast.”
Her chin isn’t quivering anymore, so I’m making progress. I lead us to a picnic table and leave her long enough to place a food order. I keep an eye on her while I wait, half expecting her to bolt.
We’ve not had the best start as neighbors. But she did help me out with Charlie, and it feels like there’s this unspoken truce happening.
I collect our food and join her .
“You know what I hate?” she asks, still subdued but at least there’s more color in her cheeks now.
“What’s that?”
“Mommie’s Empanadas is one of my favorite food trucks, and I can’t even get excited about them right now.” She frowns at the paper boats filled with fried goodness, but her voice is back to normal, and she doesn’t sound like she’s going to pass out on me anymore.
“Talk to me, Jules. Tell me what’s going on.”
She closes her eyes and rubs the spot between them like she’s rubbing away stress. On a huge sigh, she opens them and meets my gaze while telling me about her morning.
By the time she’s done dishing the details of how her contractor ghosted her, the empanadas are cool enough to eat, so I split them up and pass her a plate.
The whole time she’s been talking, an idea has sparked.
It’s not one I’m crazy about it, but it could solve two problems at once if she goes for it.
“What if I help you?”
She stares at me blankly and then scoffs. “What? You magically know a contractor who can finish my build-out in a matter of weeks? Because that’s how long I have before the next inspection.”
I frown, ready to jump in and tell her that yes, I actually do know someone, multiple someones, who can help. But she’s crestfallen again, picking at the empanada in front of her.
“I was already running on a tight timeline to get the shop open,” she continues. “There’s the big market day in a few weeks and tons of people will be in town. If I’m not open by then, it’s a missed opportunity to make a splash.”
This event is on our schedule at the station because we’ve got to have a truck on hand for a Touch-A-Truck PR. It’s a big deal because there will be a ton of foot traffic, It makes sense that she’s targeting that deadline to open.
Instead of immediately jumping back in and offering my idea of a solution, I take a bite and scald the shit out of my mouth.
A hint of sparkle lights her eyes as she watches me overexaggerate my mouth being on fire. I mean, it is, but I’m also playing it up because I want to see more of that twinkle. At least the tears are gone.
“Hear me out,” I say when I can speak again.
“When I first left home, I had no education, but I was good with doing hard work. I met a guy, and he got me a job on his construction company. Spent a couple of years learning how to build homes while I got my shit together. The economy took a turn, and work slowed. Plus, I kinda hated it at that point. An ad for a rookie position at the fire department popped up and I jumped on the opportunity.”
I motion to the food in front of her and wait until she picks up an empanada and takes a bite.
“The way I figure, we’ve got an opportunity to help each other out. You need someone to finish your build and I happen to have that particular set of skills.”
She snorts and says, “Okay, Liam.”
Gotta admit. This sarcasm is attractive as hell. “I’m willing to use my skills to help you out.”
Her gaze narrows. “In exchange for what? I don’t have a whole lot of money left. Stupidly, I paid for all of the supplies and half of his labor fee up-front.”
I take a bite of my food, enjoying the tension simmering between us. This time, it’s not antagonistic or driven by anger. It’s teeming with anticipation of what might be.
“Helping me with Charlie.” I hold up a hand to stop her from interrupting.
“I have to go back to work, and I’m having trouble finding overnight childcare.
So here’s the deal. I’ll finish your build, and you play nanny for me every third night, maybe sometimes more if I have to work mandatory overtime. ”
My offer hangs between us like a juicy morsel.
I think it’s a good plan. Mutually beneficial. But she doesn’t look as assured as I feel. She’s studying me, trying to figure out if I’m conning her or not, meanwhile I’m trying to hide that I kind of like her eyes on me.
The way she’s looking at me now is different from any other time. Well, except for last night in my kitchen after she helped put Charlie down. Last night, I caught a hint of something other than disgust. Now, she’s looking at me with interest.
“Have you talked to Nancy about the overnight thing?”
“She told me she couldn’t. My friend Mac has a teenage daughter, and I don’t mind letting her babysit sometimes, but she’s not old enough to do overnights.
Especially not every third night or so. And I do have a backup of letting Charlie go to Mac and Liv’s, but she’s been through enough.
It would be better if I could get someone to come stay at my place while I’m at the station. ”
Silence falls between us, so I finish my meal while she mulls over my proposition. Around us, the park is hopping with activity, but we sit staring each other down while I try to manage my hopes. Everything is riding on her decision, because I’m out of options.
I want to know what she’s thinking, but I’m also giving her space, and I’m praying that she takes me up on this offer.
“Cal…” she starts, and a little shiver runs through me at hearing my name on her lips. “I don’t really do… kids.”
Damn .
“It wouldn’t be forever.” I’m not above begging at this point. I have to go back to work or quit and find a new job. “She goes to bed around seven. You wouldn’t have to spend a whole lot of time entertaining her. Just a few hours, and then she’ll be sound asleep.”
“And what are you going to do once the shop opens and I can’t help you anymore?”
It’s a good question. One I don’t have an answer to. “I don’t know yet, but if we make this deal, it’ll at least give me time to figure it out.”
“And you can do all of the construction parts?”
She’s side-eyeing me like she doesn’t believe me. I can’t really blame her. I’m coming at her from left field, and though we’ll both benefit from this arrangement, the stakes are high for both of us.
“What I can’t do, mostly plumbing and electrical, I know a couple of guys that can help.”
A huge sigh leaves her as she closes her eyes. I’m losing this battle, and so much is riding on her making this deal with me. I fucking hate working construction, but I will do whatever I have to for Charlie.
“Jules, please. I need help with Charlie. I don’t want her to have to go into foster care.
And I’m terrified that’s where she’ll end up if I can’t sort out a solution.
But I’m also at the point where I have to go back to work so that I can afford to take the next steps.
” I lay it all out for her and hope it’s enough to persuade her.
“What are the next steps for you and Charlie?”
“I honestly haven’t had much of a chance to explore my options. All I know is that my sister is in the wind.”
“What about Charlie’s dad? Or grandparents?”
I’m shaking my head before she even finishes speaking.
“Her sperm donor is a piece of shit. In and out of jail. And there’s no way in hell I’m letting my mom near her, or the paternal grandparents, for that matter.
I left home for a reason, and I want a better life for Charlie than what I had. ” It’s the raw, honest truth.
Not many people know about the shithole I was raised in. It’s a part of me I hide. Because while Jules grew up in a loving family with her parents and brothers, I didn’t have the same experience.
Meal complete, offer extended, and too much truth on display, my guts are now churning.
Jules is no longer looking shell-shocked, so that’s at least one win for the day. I ball up my trash and collect hers and dispose of it. By the time I return, she’s standing by the table, waiting for me.
“Okay,” she says.
“Okay?” I watch her. Even though I heard her clearly, I need to be certain that I heard her correctly. I might be in the business of saving people, but I’m certainly not used to people saving me.
“I’ll help you out with Charlie, temporarily, in exchange for you helping me complete my coffee shop.”
We should probably write up a contract or, at the very least, shake hands. Instead, I pull her into a hug. She might be my only hope of keeping both my job and my niece permanently.