I used to feel a heady surge of pride every time I drove through the area, as if I’d left my thumbprint on every beam and brick, but now all I felt was futility. What had been the point of it all? Money? Power? None of that mattered when your body shit the bed.
Had I made anyone’s life better by banging up these overpriced monstrosities, or were the residents now bogged down by paying for a home they couldn’t really afford? Meanwhile, the stress of the years I’d worked like a demon had given me an old man’s case of hypertension and likely caused my stroke and would probably bring on another. I knew, in that moment, that I’d give away every last dime I had if I never had to sleep another night with that black cloud of worry hovering above me.
A chain-link fence cordoned off the construction site, but a section had been left open. Convenient. Since I hadn’t been able to reach my sister, to say this was a surprise visit was an understatement. We’d be lucky if she didn’t greet us all with a nail gun strapped to her hip and the attitude to match. If I remembered right from when she was a kid, she could hold a grudge.
I glanced at Annabelle to see what she was making of the situation. She looked as if she was concentrating on taking it all in.
Jackson parked right in front of the stairs that led up into the trailer, which was the temporary office of the builder and where I knew my sister maintained a work space so she could oversee her project. The smell of the place, plowed-up dirt, damp from the water being sprayed to keep the dust down, and the underlying smell of gasoline fumes and exhaust from the construction trucks filled my nostrils, and just like that I was back on my first jobsite. It was intoxicating stuff.
I opened my door and stood. My leg felt solid, no numbness as yet, and I was grateful. My mission was to get in and out as quickly as possible with Lexi none the wiser to my condition.
As I’d explained to Annabelle the night I made my proposal, under no circumstances did I want our client to know about what had happened to me. She’d looked like she was going to argue, but I’d wrapped up her compliance by reminding her that she needed this account.
I started up the steps using the handrail. Annabelle and Jackson fell in behind me. I could feel Annabelle’s stare on my back. I wondered what she was making of my ability to navigate the steps. The two times we’d seen each other, I’d been seated. How could I explain that post-stroke my life was a constant loop of being fine and then landing flat on my face for no diagnosable reason? I couldn’t. And I didn’t want to try as the very last thing I wanted from her was pity.
When I reached the landing, I rapped on the metal door. I heard the sound of a chair scraping back on a hard floor and the door was pulled open. Standing in the doorway was Lexi, and unsurprisingly, she did not look happy to see me.
“What the hell do you want?” she snapped. “Are you here to say ‘I told you so’? Because if you are, you can shove it right up your behind, I have nothing to say to you, big bro—”
17
“Good to see you, too,” I interrupted. I knew if I looked over my shoulder at my companions, I’d see two things, Jackson most definitely trying not to laugh and Annabelle looking alarmed, and possibly trying to flee the conflict zone.
“Problem, boss?” An enormous black man, who rivaled Jackson in size and width and who also had his head shaved down to the scalp, appeared behind Lexi. Being a few inches over six feet tall, I wasn’t used to looking up at people. This made two men in the vicinity that I had to crane my neck to look at. I didn’t like it.
“No, I’m fine,” she said. “Stand down, Micah.”
He didn’t. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and continued to loom.
“I’m here to talk about the gala,” I said. “We can do it on the front steps or you can invite us in and be civilized about it.”
Lexi squinted at me. Her expression was suspicious and at odds with the fresh-faced Rosie the Riveter look she was rocking with her honey-colored hair tied up with a blue bandanna, baggy jeans, flannel shirt, and work boots. She didn’t look old enough to buy alcohol, never mind be in charge of building a housing development.
“Micah, do me a favor and walk around the site and make sure nothing else has been tamp . . . er . . . um, make sure everything is okay,” she said.
He looked us over. “You sure?”
She nodded, flashing him a quick smile. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
They both stepped aside, allowing us to enter the trailer, which looked just like every other construction office I’d ever been in with desks, tables, chairs, and a refrigerator all crammed in, forcing people to walk sideways to get from one end to the other.
As Micah passed Jackson, I saw them size each other up. Standard gym rat behavior. I hid my smile when Micah jerked his chin at Jackson in acknowledgment and left the trailer, letting the door bang shut after him.
I glanced at Annabelle to see if she was okay. She looked bemused, taking in the interior of the trailer while casting surreptitious glances at my sister. Another of her curls had escaped, making my fingers itch to catch it and pull it taut just to see if it sprang back when I let go.
Clearly, it was a damn good thing that she was going to be very busy in the near future. I needed her out of sight until she moved out, for both of our sakes. I was in no place to have anyone in my life who wasn’t on my payroll. Period.
“I’m really busy,” Lexi said. She glanced at her watch. “So if you could make this less than five minutes, I’d be super grateful.”
It was weird to be out of my house after so many months and not sitting in a waiting room. I wondered if I was becoming a touch agoraphobic. My tension ratcheted up and I felt vulnerable not having my wheelchair nearby. A jolt of electricity shot up my leg, followed by a numbness that made my knee wobble. Oh, hell no. I was not doing a face-plant in front of Lexi.
I took a deep breath as I walked past her, feeling anxious with every step. I slid gratefully into a chair at the lone table, clearly used for meetings and, judging by the random ketchup and mustard packets, also lunch. I gestured for my sister to take a seat. Heaving a put-upon sigh, she stomped over to the table and sat down. Annabelle followed while Jackson motioned that he was going to wait outside. A part of me wanted him to stay close in case something went wrong, but I just nodded. I was going to make this quick.
“Lexi Brewer, this is Annabelle Martin,” I said.
“Nice to meet you.” Annabelle smiled. She didn’t offer Lexi a handshake as if sensing she might get bit. Smart woman.
“Same.” Lexi’s voice was flat. She turned to me and asked, “One more time, what do you want?”
I studied her face. She was furious. I knew my nonresponsiveness must have pissed her off, but this seemed like something else. I got the feeling something big, something not about me, was wrong.