Page 12 of Hard Hat Hottie

Within a few short years, I’d gathered a team of reliable, hard-working crew members and slowly we made a name for ourselves amongst companies of significantly larger caliber. I thank the Candy Cane Key effect for this good fortune. For I’m certain I wouldn’t have had the opportunities life has shown Hightower Construction if such a small, inexperienced, young group of men had tried this anywhere else.

This tiny beach town is all about loving one’s neighbor. If you do the right thing by the people here, good will come back to you. Not to mention, Candy Cane Key is rooted in Christmas spirit. And not just in December or the Christmas in July festivities held each year. There’s something to be said for believing in miracles.

If only that extended to a cure for Alzheimer’s.

Turning off the water, I step out to dry off, my gaze landing on a framed crossword puzzle over my vanity. I’d hung it withpride after building this house, to remind me each morning how blessed I’d been to have a parent who wanted me when no one else had. Who loved me like no one I’d ever known. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without her.

I need a five-letter word for intelligentI’d asked my mother at the dining table. There were early signs of memory loss before Mom even hit fifty. For years, I ignored the needling concerns until it became obvious with each misplaced everyday item and increasingly more common household accidents. My online research seemed to point to brain exercises like crossword puzzles and mind training games to aid in keeping thoughts sharp. So, we started making a ritual of it over dinner.

Harry, she’d hastily written into the five square boxes, instantly putting an end to the game as all the surrounding answers would no longer fit. I’d chastised her about it, but she insisted she was correct and there was no debating it. Her little ritual would sporadically return, filling me with a sense of pride that only a mother’s love could bring.

I need a five-letter word for resilient.

Harry, she’d mutter aloud as she scribbled the answer into the tiny boxes.

A melancholy laugh tumbles from my lips, simultaneously causing that familiar ache in my chest to reemerge. Alzheimer’s has stolen so much from her now.From both of us.Not only her memory, but her vibrant personality. There are times she’s like a small child, requiring Joyce or myself to lead her to wherever she needs to go. That vicarious, positive force for good now lost to this horrendous disease.

I quickly run some product through my hair, apply deodorant that will probably only last an hour or two in this heat, and go in search of work pants and a T-shirt to redirect my mood before it gets any worse. There’s no sense dwelling on it. Joyce and I are doing as much as humanly possible togive my mother the best life we can. Sadly, we’re not alone in this. Millions of families struggle. The last I looked, I’d read that almost six million people in the US are afflicted with Alzheimer’s, and this is projected to nearly triple by the time I’m her age. Unless some modern miracle develops, I have to accept things for what they are.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Putting my car quickly in park, I grab my phone from where it’s lying on the center console, a welcome smile crossing my face as I see my friend Charlene’s pretty picture on the screen. “Hey. This is a surprise. You never call this early. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I have an early morning add on at the salon, so I decided to grab a cup of coffee and head on in. I keep thinking about the other night at The Wild Shrimp. Harry, I haven’t laughed like that in so long. I’ve gotten completely mired down in work and adulting. Any chance you’re free for dinner tonight? I need to make more of an effort to fit fun into my life.”

A gratifying grin crosses my face as I see the little white shuttle bus dropping off employees at the curb across from the emergency room. “It’s easy to do. Hell, Char, I think that was the first time I’d been out in months.”

“Well, it was so impromptu, we barely had time to catch up on anything significant. We laughed like hyenas the whole time. I’ve got appointments booked back-to-back all day. Why don’t you pick up something for dinner and bring it over around 7:00?”

“Sure, that sounds great. What do you think you’d like?”

“Truth? I’d give my next weekend off in exchange for Elliot’s chicken,” she whines.

“God, me too. My brother scored in more ways than one.” I laugh.

My little brother had apparently had a thing for a girl he went to high school with. He’d been a star athlete in school and, unlike me, found himself befriended by the popular clique. He had an outgoing personality and managed to hide the fact that we were living paycheck to paycheck after our father left. There’s no way that spoiled rich kid crowd would’ve let him into their inner circle had they known, good looking, gregarious soccer player or not.

This same group of elitists made sport out of tearing down those beneath them, and Elliot was their prime target. Matt’s then girlfriend was the ringleader. It made him guilty by association. Ellie secretly had similar feelings for my brother. Yet, she fought them given his friendship with that gang of evil assholes who had too much time on their hands to do anything constructive with their life besides bully those less fortunate.

Ellie was a sweet kid who grew to be a kind and giving young woman. Similar to our situation, she was abandoned by her birth parents. Her biological grandparents stepped up to raise her and she likely turned out all the better for it. Her grandmother passed away, but not before teaching Ellie all of her secrets in the kitchen.

Her grandfather helped her secure a location to sell her southern delicacies.In a local gas station.Faded and weather torn, Salty Jo’s looks as if it should be condemned. Our crew has stepped up on several occasions to patch it back together after multiple tropical storms made a direct hit on the unfortunate convenience store.

But the gas station’s appearance did nothing to deter local folks from standing in line for Elliot’s southern home delicacies. That girl can cook. It only took sending my brother to Salty Jo’sone time to pick up food for the crew, and he was hooked. On the hot chick and the hot chicken.

“I was just telling him they’re overdue for a visit. Maybe we can hatch a plan to get him to bring some food back here with him.”

“Or, better yet, bring Ellie and have her cook enough that we can freeze it for days.” Char giggles. “I’ll give her free hair for life.”

Charlene and Ellie had been thick as thieves before my brother took her back to Sycamore Mountain. I know Char was as happy for them as I was. But we definitely felt their absence when they left. It’s probably what cemented our friendship, having a shared bond over missing our best friends.

“Okay, I need to get to it, or my foreman is going to call the Better Business Bureau on my ass.” I snort. “He’ll claim the owner doesn’t care about his clients and try to take over my company.”

“Aww, Gus would never do anything of the sort. He idolizes you.”

“Right.” I have to admit my weaknesses. And my management of this company has fallen short of my personal standards. “Hell, Char, I’d fire me if I could afford a replacement.”

“You’re tired. I get it. I feel the same way. Owning a business is hard. It’s work, work, work. The only thing worse is being surrounded by rich tourists who play, play, play.”

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