Page 14 of Hard Hat Hottie

“Hey, Harrison. I’m just wrapping up here.”

“Okay, Char. I’ll take these on back. Looking pretty good there, Ms. M.”

Margaret Montgomery is a staple in this town. She’s a filthy rich widow who grew up in Candy Cane Key. She’s respected by all who know her, and deservedly so.

Most people hear filthy rich widow and assume she inherited her wealth from her husband. But that guy was lucky to be married to her. She’s a classy lady who comes from old money. Old family wealth. Most of her relatives had packed up and moved to Miami, Palm Beach, or Boca Raton. Whichever location they felt was the right fit for their social class.

Word was, the family patriarch made his millions as a shipping tycoon. The rest of the family only worked hard at managing their investment portfolios. But Maggie created a charitable organization directed at those individuals who were displaced by the impact of severe tropical weather in the area. Hightower Construction has partnered with her on many a project.

Now that I think about it, I stand corrected. This selfless, affluent woman has taken on a role in service to others. May not be nursing or the like, but she has spent her life giving back.

“You’re too kind, Harrison. How is your sweet mother?”

A corner of my mouth turns down at the inquiry. I should simply be thankful people like Margaret continue to inquire about her. “Most days are good. We’re lucky to have Joyce with us. She’s really good with her.” I give her a half-hearted smile. My mother is no longer the woman Ms. Montgomery remembers. We don’t spend much time out any longer, as Mom does much better in an environment she finds comfortable. Her mind has turned old friends into strangers. It’s not only difficult for her but also me and the people that know her, to watch the awkward conversations unfold.

“Do give her my best, will you?”

Sure. I’ll try that.I know she means well, but I’ve all but given up on those lighthearted chats. It’s rare Mom speaks any longer, much less responds with anything close to acknowledgment.

“All right, you’re all done. I’ll see you back next week?” Charlene asks.

“Yes, I have a luncheon on Friday, so it will work out perfectly. Thank you, dear.”

Once I reach the dining area, I put the bag down and reach inside for the various takeout boxes, scattering them over her vintage wooden table.

Char walks in carrying a bottle of Pinot Grigio and a decanter of scotch. She knows me so well. “What’s this?” She dips her chin toward the smorgasbord of food.

“I couldn’t decide, so I went to the new place near the hospital, Fusion. They have Asian, Japanese, and Thai food. You can mix and match. So, I have shrimp lo mein, spring rolls, pad Thai, sesame chicken, sushi, and some sashimi.” I pull a bottle of water out of my back pocket and sit down.

“Wow. It’s a buffet.” She claps.

“It’s a lot, but I’ll take some of the leftovers home to Mom and Joyce.”

“It all smells so good. I’m starving.” Charlene pours one finger of scotch into a small glass tumbler for me and a tall glass of Pinot into stemware for her. “I’ve missed this.”

“Yeah. Me too. It’s my fault, Char. I’ve been working long hours at the hospital remodel and feel guilty being away from Mom.” I pop a piece of sashimi into my mouth. “Not that she’d notice I was missing.”

“Oh, don’t say that. If there’s anything she’s still keen on, I’m certain it’s you.” My sweet friend always knows the right thing to say.

There are times I question whether Charlene and I could’ve worked out as a couple. Our personalities are so similar. Yet, while we are flirty with each other when we’re out, she honestly feels more like family. You can’t fight chemistry, or lack thereof. And even though I find this proud, independent woman attractive, it simply feels like trying to force a square peg into a round hole with the two of us. We’ve settled into our relationship as friends.We fit like a pair of cozy sockson a cold day, Char had once said. Not to mention, she’s had her guard up with men since the day we met.

We frequently go to bars and restaurants together. Stand in as the other’s plus one at events or get-togethers. Yet this self-assured stunner immediately puts up a wall when someone approaches, her body turning noticeably rigid. She’s never shared details from her past, but something tells me there’s a hurt there she hasn’t quite recovered from.

My job is simply to be the best friend I can and hope she can trust I’m a safe place to fall, if and when she needs me. Maybe one day she’ll share, but ’til then, I’m not pushing. We all have our own crosses to bear. And she’s been respectful of mine.

“You seemed distracted the other night,” Char says as she twirls a forkful of lo mein.

“What do you mean?”

“I asked if you were seeing anyone, and you said no. But it wasn’t a definitive no like you usually blurt.”

“Nooo,” I state emphatically and chuckle. “Is that better?”

“Would it be so bad? You really should get back out there, Harrison.”

I put my fork down. “Look who’s talking, Char. When’s the last timeyouwent on a date?”

Her nose wrinkles as her face takes on an uncomfortable expression. “Been with a man, or been on a date?”

---