Chapter Twelve #3
“You know, you didn’t have to come tonight. I sent word that we’d automatically approve an extension on your deadline, what with everything that’s happened.” She paused and screwed her nose up in an awkwardly sympathetic grimace. “How’s Ruby?”
Kel stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and grimaced out a crooked smile.
“Tired of hospital food,” he said. “The nurses say she’s doing…better than she could be. They say that because she got to the hospital so quickly, the damage wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”
They also said ‘thanks to your quick thinking’ a lot.
Kel wished they wouldn’t. For a start, he didn’t think you had to be all that quick on your feet to think about calling an ambulance when your grandmother had a seizure in the remains of Joe Greenwell’s fry-up.
Plus, it had been his fault. So being praised for it felt a bit weird.
“They do say that,” Bernie said, nodding sagely. “The quicker you get treatment is a big indicator of how well you can recover.”
Kel resisted the urge to ask if she was an expert now.
“Anyhow,” he said. “Ruby’s doing OK, and I want to try and get everything between me and the HOA settled before she comes home. She’ll be staying with me after all.”
Yeah. His conscience saw the irony in using the stroke he’d caused to curry favor with his con. Ruby would have been proud, though. It worked. At least, it did on Bernie.
She reached out and squeezed his forearm.
“You’re a good grandson,” she said. The squeeze turned into a pat. “Bit of an ass otherwise, but a good grandson.”
It was funny, but that made Kel feel better somehow.
“Thanks,” he said.
Bernie chuckled and gave him a gentle push.
“Go grab a seat,” she said. “It’s an emergency meeting, so there’s only a few things on the agenda. We’ll get to you quickly.”
Kel shuffled over to the rows of white, plastic chairs, some of them still with bible leaflets from the retirement party stuck to the seats, and folded himself awkwardly into one.
The woman in the row ahead of him looked around in annoyance as his knees nudged the back of her chair.
Then she looked down at his legs, sighed, and scootched forward.
“Better?” she asked.
The smoke around her face sketched into a scowl.
You better not be who complained about my bins, or I’m moving back, it spat out through twisted lips. It tasted hot, like cinnamon in his sinuses.
As other people filed in, sat down, and traded murmured conversations, the smoke rose from them like a pall. It hung so heavy in the room that Kel didn’t have to try and pull it out of them.
…Think you can get away with an approved structure just because it’s for ‘foster children.’
It’s my fucking house, and if I want my boyfriend to park his motorbike in the drive, he fucking can.
…Told her the HOA was a mistake, but did she listen…..nooooo
Kel sat back in his chair with a wince and rubbed his knuckles under his breastbone. He didn’t think burping would help a glut of supernatural…whatever the smoke was…but it felt like it should.
Before he could force one out to see, a hand tapped his shoulder. He turned to see Bernie stooped over, her face creased into a tight, rabbity expression of apology.
“Look, I know this isn’t ideal,” she muttered. “But, um, Easy came back from his business meeting early. He’s just parked outside.”
She shrugged helplessly and ducked away back to the front of the room.
As she took her seat, Kel turned to watch the door.
After a minute, the man from the Harlow Construction website ducked under the banner.
He had a nice suit on and a messenger bag slung over one shoulder, his smile already deployed as he looked around the room.
His gaze met Kel’s, and he hesitated for a moment.
His smile didn’t quite falter, but his eyebrows did twitch.
He could have been the man behind the wheel of the Mustang. It was an old photo; it could have been.
Whether or not he was Kel’s grandad…that was hard to tell from the scraps of photos that Kel had found back at the house. Ruby had done a good job burning them.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Easy said as his attention flicked on from Kel. “I bet you thought you had a night off from me!”
People laughed. Even Bernie.
None of them meant it, the smoke sour and grimacing around their faces.
Unaware of that, Easy looked smug about his reaction as he headed to the front of the room. He stood for a moment, looming politely, until Bernie smiled tightly, collected her notebook and pen, and shifted down a seat. Then he sat down, shrugged the strap of his bag off, and looked around.
“OK,” he said as he put his hands flat on the table. “Let’s get to it. Monica, you’re a frequent flyer. Let’s show the rest of them how it’s done.”
For a meeting that didn’t have much on the agenda, there seemed to be plenty. And despite Bernie’s assurances, it was near the bottom of the hour by the time it finally got to Kel’s issue.
Kel clenched his jaw as he shifted position, knees aching, ready to stand. The smoke filled his throat, sour and roiling. Before he could do anything, Easy looked up and down the table at the rest of the board.
“Under the circumstances,” he said. “I think we can go ahead and approve the use of external contractors. As long as they do have all the required certifications and insurances. Yes?”
Everyone nodded and muttered agreement.
Kel was pretty sure they’d have agreed if Easy had said ‘no’ as well. At this point they just wanted out. Not that he was complaining about the yes; it was just…
It felt weird not to have to fight his corner.
Before he could decide how he felt about that, everyone got up to file out. As the board gathered up all their paperwork, Bernie laughed at something one of them said.
“Good thing Easy made it,” she said. “I thought we’d be lucky to get wrapped up by nine.”
Easy chuckled as he leaned back in his chair.
“Only losers need luck,” he said. “I’m not a loser; I plan ahead.”
Kel froze halfway to his feet, one hand braced on the back of the chair. A litany of that phrase dinned in his ears as he stared at Easy.
Like Ruby had said about Dio: maybe it wasn’t how he looked; it was what he said that gave him away.
Easy was the last person to leave the hall.
He stepped out into the darkness of the parking lot. The security lights flicked on one after the other as he walked toward his car.
Kel stayed where he was, his hip hitched up onto the hood of the car. The last security light caught his foot in the beam as Easy slowed to a stop. The bag slid off Easy’s shoulder, and he lowered it to the ground.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon,” Easy said. He cocked his head to the side as he nodded slowly. “But I suppose now is as good a time as any.”
Kel straightened up and stepped forward into the light.
“I want to know what you—–”
Before he could finish the question, Easy took two quick, long steps forward and pulled him into a rough, intractable embrace. One hand grabbed the back of Kel’s head and shoved it down toward Easy’s shoulder.
“Look at you,” Easy said, his voice full of emotion. “My grandson. My own flesh and blood. After all this time.”
Kel blinked at the crisp, starched collar of Easy’s shirt. The stitching was precise. There was a spot of blood on the top. It was probably from shaving.
Probably.
What the hell was going on?