“I travel light.”
“Coolio,” Curtis said again, grabbing three boxes from the backseat.
I rushed to the back and unhooked my bike from the rack. I wheeled it to the garage door that Cole opened for me. He headed back to grab more boxes than his brother had. At this pace, we’d be done in two trips.
“They’re handy,” Natalie said as she watched them disappear into the house. “Hope they don’t drive you nuts.”
“Please,” I scoffed then realized she didn’t have any idea what I’d lived with. Nuts was a cellmate that chewed sunflower seeds and spit out the shells wherever she wanted in your six-by-nine cell every day. Nuts was a celly that made wine in the toilet water and forced you to wait to use the toilet. Slobs who played video games weren’t going to drive me nuts.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Natalie was suddenly serious. “I wish I’d known—”
I held up a hand. I didn’t need her guilt. She’d stuck by me when she heard what I did. Sent letters and at least one care package a year when everyone but my mom turned away.
We hadn’t even been working together when I got caught. Snitched on, actually. That was hard to get over. If I’d been caught burglarizing a house, I think I could have lived with the sentence. Instead, they’d caught one of the other guys on the crew and he flipped on the rest of us. Still, it was my fault whether I got caught in the act or told on. I’d gotten off track with the friends I was keeping and the people I worked with. I thought I had everything I needed. Turns out, I didn’t have anything I needed or wanted.
“Anyway,” she said, looking away. She’d never asked me why I’d done what I’d done. Never looked at me like I was stupid for doing what I’d done. Everyone else had, even my mom who loved me through all of it. My mom had to know why, needed a viable reason to explain my moronic behavior, but Natalie never did. “I’ll swing by to pick you up tomorrow morning.”
I wanted to protest, but I wasn’t sure I could backtrack to the site. I probably didn’t have enough gas to get there anyway. “See you in the morning.” I gave her a gentle shove to get her moving. She didn’t need to spend all of her Monday night helping me.
Even with the guys playing video games late into the night, it had been quieter than I could remember in years. The paper walls of my lousy apartment never allowed for continuous sleep. Not so here.
When I walked into the kitchen, I found Cole, of the left dimple, making scrambled eggs. Coffee percolated in the maker to his right and bacon sizzled in the pan next to the eggs. He had on a dark green t-shirt with Natalie’s company logo. I was wearing a heather green version of the same. Six others in varying colors sat on my dresser after Natalie left. I would have been happy enough with one. That’s what I used to get on other crews, one large, men’s t-shirt with the company name stamped on the back. These were women’s t-shirts that fit and had cool designs to display her company name. Free, too. Every other crew made us buy the shirts we were required to wear, which was another clue that Natalie ran things differently here.
“Morning. You like eggs?” Cole lifted the pan and moved it toward the three plates he’d set out.
“Uh,” I started because I didn’t know how to handle this. Money was tight right now. Putting in for combined groceries with these young guys could blow my grocery budget every week.
“Take him up on it when he cooks.” Curtis joined us then bumped into the into the breakfast bar as he slid a company t-shirt over his head. “We can figure out grocery runs later.”
I shrugged. Natalie had also left groceries for me, the little sneak. I wouldn’t be living on ramen noodles until my next paycheck. “Thanks.” I held out a stopping hand as he reached to add bacon to the eggs he’d just dished onto my plate. “Vegetarian.”
The guys exchanged a look then shrugged. “More for us.”
We sat and ate together, which was a nice change for me. The past two years had been pretty solitary. Nobody really talked on the line at work and my personal time consisted of trying to pick up handyperson work to help pay the rent. A normal breakfast filled with easy conversation was both entertaining and a treat. So far, I was getting a good vibe from them.
“You guys mind if I let my cats wander the house when we’re not here?” I asked when I cleared our plates into the dishwasher.
“No probs,” Curtis said, and it set the tone for our house sharing experience. They were casual and cool with my cats. I’d do what I could to be a decent roommate for them. It was a relief really. Being a shitty roommate bothered me as much as it bothered my roommates and cellmates in the past.
A horn sounded from outside. I finished packing a lunch and shoved my thermos under the facet to fill. On the way out the door, I picked up the five gallon bucket where I kept my limited supply of tools and the new hardhat Natalie had left for me. I shook my free arm and let out a slow breath. Time to start my second chance at a decent life.
Natalie waved me up to the front seat. The guys loaded into the backseat with Natalie’s dog, a cute herding breed that seemed at ease with them and familiar with this morning routine. She got the truck in motion and headed to the end of the street, pulling into the driveway of the nearest house. Before I could ask what we were doing, the front door opened and an Asian woman stuck her head out the door and waved. Natalie waved back but Cole brought down his window and shouted hello.
A black man a little older than the woman appeared beside her and kissed her cheek before making his way to the truck. Was this guy really on Natalie’s crew? He was seventy if he was a day.
“Yo, Owen,” Curtis greeted while Cole went into a long, “Oowenn.”
Natalie introduced us as she backed out of his driveway and got us on the road to the site. The boys yammered the entire drive. By the time we arrived, I could tell they had nothing but respect for Owen and what he could do with woodworking. Interesting crew Natalie had here.
Ten seconds after we stepped out of the truck, someone called out from inside the structure. “Harp’s here!”
The front porch suddenly filled with Miguel, two other Latino guys, and a white dude. All sported various versions of Natalie’s t-shirts and looked cohesive as a unit.
“Q-king Owen in the house,” one of the Latino guys called, rushing down the steps to bump fists with the older man.
“New chick,” the white guy said.
“Falyn, this is the crew,” Natalie said introducing each as Luis, Ramón, and Tyler.
“Hey, guys.” I tried for nonchalant. I’d perfected this attitude in prison where it was dangerous to show any emotion when meeting someone.
“Damn glad you’re here,” Luis told me. “No more dealing with Anton the Putz.”
“The electrical subcontractor,” Natalie supplied with a smile. I hoped I lived up to her expectations. Even if all the guys turned out to be assholes, working with Natalie again, living in the beautiful place she arranged, and making a livable wage was enough.
Natalie gathered everyone around the work table with the plans and gave out the day’s instructions. She carefully explained things that were often missed without making it sound condescending or like an order. She, Cole, and I would start wiring the house while the rest of them would get working on the roof. The crew listened intently, a few asked questions, but none of them gave her any grief. She’d told me she hired only the guys she’d liked working with on the crew she came from, but this was a little amazing. Ordinarily someone was grumbling by now.
My group started drilling through the studs where we’d run the wire. It didn’t take long to figure out the cheap drill I’d bought to pick up extra work on the weekends wasn’t going to cut it on a real jobsite. Natalie swapped mine out with hers without a word or letting Cole see her do it. She was saving my ass everywhere now.
After the mid-morning break, we were making good progress on the first floor. Vivian appeared in the doorway, giving Natalie a bright smile and nodding at Cole and me. No kiss for Natalie this time. I hid a grin as I watched them put on their professional faces.
“Will you run through the electrical plans, Viv?” Natalie asked. “We’re picking up the supplies later.”
Vivian walked through each room we’d worked on. They discussed adding more boxes to a few additional locations and asked me about codes and such. She was more than just a designer. She knew what she was doing architecturally, design wise, and on a construction site. I felt a twinge of envy that Natalie had found herself a real winner here.
“Lunch!” someone yelled from outside.
I checked my watch not able to believe the time had flown by so quickly. Days at the chicken packaging plant stretched out endlessly. Cole tore through the room we were in toward the front door. Guys started clanging down the ladders from the roof. Lunch must be a group thing, too.
“Owen barbecues once a week,” Natalie explained, ushering us out the door to the work tent where he’d been slicing reclaimed wood into roofing and siding shingles all morning.
The guys lined up at the grill where Owen was dishing out burgers and brats. It looked good if I still ate meat, but years of being forced to eat meat-like objects in prison turned me into a vegetarian. I started toward my stashed cooler, but Natalie grabbed my arm and shook her head.
“Grilled cheese okay?” Owen called to me.
All but the Sweeney brothers turned to look at me. My mouth dropped, not believing Natalie would remember the one time I mentioned now being a vegetarian. “Great, yeah, thank you, Owen.”
He held out the plate with the grilled cheese sandwich to me. “I can make another if this isn’t enough?”
“Oh, no, thank you. This will be plenty.” I felt a lump form in my throat. This little act of kindness piled on top of everything that Natalie had already done got to me. I didn’t normally get choked up unless I was backed into a corner that I didn’t have the power to get out of. It happened so often in prison and on parole. Getting choked up for a good reason was a new experience for me.
Natalie’s hand squeezed my shoulder. I used to do this to her when we’d worked together. A way to make sure she knew that I had her back among some of the assholes we had to work with. Now she was doing it to me, and I felt the ton of bricks I’d been carrying on my shoulders throughout parole slip away.
I found a bowl of pasta salad and a stack of grilled corn to add to my plate and took a seat next to Cole to enjoy a loud and happy lunch. They talked like they were a group of friends at a bar not just work colleagues. Cursory questions were tossed my way throughout. Natalie obviously hadn’t told them about my record. I felt bad about it for maybe a second. In fact, I felt more like the woman I was when I’d first known Natalie. The woman I’d liked before I became someone motivated by the wrong things.
“Let’s go pick up those wiring supplies,” Natalie said to me as we finished lunch and everyone got back to work. “Head up to the roof, Cole. We’ll grab you when we get back,” she told him and let Owen know where we were going. She looked at me and explained, “Miguel’s a good foreman, but he’s not as good at playing the bad guy if some of them start screwing around. Owen steps in when necessary.”
“Is he onsite every day?” I asked as we loaded into her truck.
“Two days a week. He loves working with wood and grilling, but he’s in his eighties, so he doesn’t have the energy for it every day.”
“Wow,” I said, amazed that he’d even want to be there.
She started the engine and backed out of the drive. “He’s a great guy. His wife, too, but I see Owen a lot more.”
“And they’re my neighbors.”
“Along with his granddaughter and your landlord, yeah.”
I shot wide eyes at her. “The cute strawberry from yesterday plays for our team?”
“Yep.” Nat laughed at my shock.
“Well, damn, that means there are at least six lesbians in town now.”
“More. Viv and Molly can introduce you.”