Page 7 of Just Screwing Around

Students had to be able to move in for the fall semester in September. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about finishing on time. Even when I’d put my bid together, I knew the deadline would be ugly. Still, my pride got in the way and I fought for the project to keep Derek from getting his hands on it.

The fact that his quote came in higher than mine gave me pause. I always worried that I had missed something or forgotten to carry the one somewhere and that would lead to financial ruin. Yay for me for getting the client. I just had to deliver what I’d promised.

And on that happy note, I realized it was almost lunch time. I drove my oversized pickup down the narrow streets of downtown Springwood. It was a sunny spring day so the sidewalks were lined with people out window shopping. Each block was filled with stout brick buildings and trees just getting their leaves. I managed to find a parking spot, always a hit or miss situation, and ran into my favorite sandwich place before pulling an illegal u-turn and heading towards the highway.

The office for my company was over the train tracks in the industrial area of the city. British Columbia was known for its beauty – mountains, evergreen trees and lakes - but this area was all unpaved lots and rutted dirt roads. It housed a junkyard, mechanics shops and my contracting business along with a few other eyesores. It was always muddy or dusty, dark and kind of sketchy at night, but it was cheap enough that I had the space to house materials. I grabbed the sandwiches and headed inside.

My mom worked as a bookkeeper for a few different companies, including mine. She usually worked one to two days a week out of the Springwood Contracting office. I knew she was here today and talking to her always made me feel better.

I needed that right now.

Every time I looked over the plan for the University townhouse complex, the details got more grim.

In theory, it could be done.

In reality, weather delays, materials delays and workers coming and going were unpredictable. The only solution I’d come up with so far was to work as much as I could myself. Do all of my business owner duties in the evening and swing a hammer with the crew during the day. If I survived this project, it would be a miracle.

“Hey, Mom. Got you a turkey club.” I put the sandwich down on her desk and she turned away from her laptop.

“Oh, thanks.” She pulled off her teal reading glasses and tucked them on top of her head.

I got my darker features from my dad, while my mom was blonde with a few streaks of gray. She had the odd sun spot from summer spent wearing me out at every lake or park within an hours drive. She may be in her sixties but she didn’t look it. Even so, I felt the need to keep an eye on her as if I was the parent.

She went to take a bite then paused. “Are you going to stare at me or eat your own lunch?”

I held my hands up in surrender and unwrapped my own ham and cheese.

“You know you don’t have to take care of me, right?”

“I know. Just trying to do something nice.” That was a lie. My parents had divorced five years ago and my dad had moved to Arizona with a woman closer to my age than his.

Cliche bullshit.

My mom could take care of herself, but I didn’t want her to feel like she had to. She probably knew I was lying but luckily changed the subject instead of calling me on it.

“So, any plans for the weekend?” she asked, as if that wasn’t a totally loaded question.

“Work, I guess. Groceries.”

She scowled. “You know normal people only work forty hours a week, right?”

I snorted. I wished. If I was awake, I was working. “Life is expensive. One day you can retire, and my business will support us both.” I tried to make my voice sound light but the whole subject stressed me the fuck out.

Her eyes softened and she tilted her head. “I’m not helpless, Nick. At the rate you’re going, you will need to retire before I do. I run the numbers for this business, remember? I can’t understand why we take on half the jobs we do.”

“Time to make hay is when the sun is shining, right?” It was a non-answer. I needed to have a successful business for the long term, but I was also a jackass who couldn’t sit back and let another contractor – Derek – take a job without putting my name in, too.

“You need some balance, kiddo. Do you even see anyone who isn’t an employee?”

“I have a roommate now. She moved in yesterday.” I blurted out the words before I thought them through.

ThatI-want-grandbabieslook came into her eyes and she was clasping her hands in front of her chest before I could stop her. “A girlfriend? You have a girlfriend living with you?”

I shook my head and swallowed the bite of my sandwich. It suddenly felt too dry in my throat. “Girl? Yes. Friend? Sort of. Girlfriend? Absolutely not. It’s Charlotte, Derek’s sister, the one who owns the coffee shop by the hospital.”

My clarification did nothing to curb her enthusiasm.

“Charlotte? You mean the attractive, single, business owner who you’ve known your entire life is living in your house?”

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