Page 13 of Say Something
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The sound of tires crunching on the gravel driveway signaled the arrival of my brother. I was both excited and nervous. Excited because this was the first step in getting my house ready for the movers, and I got to spend some—hopefully—quality time with my brother in the process, and nervous because I wasn’t sure we’d ever have the easy comradery we’d once shared as kids. Something was off.
I crossed the dirty living room carpet and stepped out the open front door onto the small, creaky porch. A board wobbled under my feet, and I added another thing to my mental fix-it list.
The large, white pickup truck parked next to my Audi was a beast. It could have eaten my little convertible for breakfast. On the side of the beast was a decal that said “P.T. Construction.” Interesting, I thought. The P obviously stood for Price, but the T? It didn’t take too long for me to figure it out. I waved as Michael got out of the driver’s side of the truck and froze when Dean Thompson got out of the passenger side with a clipboard in his hand.
T for Thompson. Dean Thompson, apparently. The middle son—Danny’s younger brother and a spitting image of him, at that. The same laughing eyes, messy hair, and five o’clock shadow. They could have been twins, except they were four years apart in age.Good genes in that family, I thought as my heart did a double beat. Three years of no Thompsons, and suddenly they were everywhere.
“Jessie!” Dean called out, jogging across the yard and hopping up the two small steps to where I was standing. Before I could get a word out in greeting, or tell him not to call me Jessie, Dean wrapped his arms around me in an unexpected embrace and spun me around.
To say I was stunned was an understatement. Shouldn’t he hate me? Or at least dislike me some? His brother and I were divorced. Wasn’t that a big deal? Wasn’t there a bro code for that kind of thing?
He released me and took a step back, his hands resting on my upper arms as he took in my appearance. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. How are you, Jess?”
“I-I’m fine,” I stuttered out. Then I remembered my manners. “How are you, Dean? You look good.”
He grinned that mischievous grin the brothers shared. The one that had always melted my heart. I felt a little twitch inside my chest and knew it still had that effect, only it wasn’t the right Thompson brother.
“I’m good, Jess. Real good. When Mikey said he was coming to check out your place this morning, I had to tag along. It’s been ages.”
It had been ages. The last time I’d seen Dean I was still married to Danny. It was during one of our trips back home for the holidays…before things went bad. Deciding against a trip down memory lane, I redirected the conversation to the guys.
“I didn’t realize you guys were partners,” I said, nodding to the truck, then looking at Michael.
“Yeah, we started up about two years ago, after we remodeled your mom and dad’s kitchen and realized we had something,” Dean answered. “There’s only one other construction company in town, so we figured we had a decent shot. Myers Construction does mostly residential, so we figured we’d focus on commercial.”
“You sure this won’t be too much?” I asked, gesturing to my house. “Sounded like you guys were pretty busy when we spoke yesterday,” I said to Michael, hoping he might actually answer me. He hadn’t spoken since he got out of the truck.
“Nah, you’re family. We always have time for family.” It was Dean who answered. Michael continued to stay silent, just staring past me at the house. This was awkward. Shouldn’t it be awkward with my ex-brother-in-law, not my actual brother?
“Well, I appreciate it,” I told them. “How about I show you around?” I asked, feeling a little silly for saying it since they could probably see the entire place through the open front door.
“Sounds good,” Dean said, looking between Michael and me and taking the lead once again as it was clear my brother wasn’t going to. “Why don’t you tell us what you’d like done, then we can do a sweep and see if there’s anything else.”
“All right, follow me.” I stepped over the threshold and walked them around the small space.
I pointed out the carpet and the walls, and told them I’d picked out paint colors and that I wanted to do the painting myself. They walked around the room, knocking on walls and checking out the windows. They opened and closed cabinets and doors, then played with the light switches and faucets. I stood off to the side, out of their way, letting them do their thing.
We reconvened on the porch after Michael and Dean did their assessment. “This might need some work, too,” I said, toeing a loose board.
Michael leaned a hip against the railing, causing a few chips of old white paint to break free, while Dean squatted down to look at it. “You’re probably right. I don’t think it’ll need a full replacement. Maybe just a few boards.” He stood back up and looked between me and my brother again—my brother who hadn’t said two words to me since arriving. Before Dean could speak, his cell phone chimed with an incoming message. He took it off its belt clip and tapped the screen, reading whatever came through.
I chanced a look at Michael, but he was staring off into the yard. His silent treatment was starting to piss me off. If he didn’t want to take the job, he should have turned me down when I called yesterday and given me the number to the company that did the residential work. What was the point of him coming if he wasn’t going to speak to me? What would he have done if Dean hadn’t come with him? Would he have spoken to me then? At least I would have known where I stood had he had just blown me off from the get go. Instead he was sending me mixed signals.
I was about to give him a piece of my mind when Dean spoke up. “Sorry, I gotta run,” he said, taking off down the steps. Michael made to follow him but Dean waved him off. “I’m gonna take the truck, gotta check on a delivery issue. You should stay and go over the repairs with Jess,” he told Michael. I could see my brother’s body stiffen at Dean’s words, and it pissed me off even more. “You can give him a ride to the site when you’re finished, right, Jess? It’s just down the road.”
I gave Dean a reluctant nod, and he grinned…and I think he…wait, did he wink at me? That little shit. He was setting us up! Delivery issue my ass. The sneaky bastard. Michael and I watched Dean get into the beast of a truck. He waved, still grinning, as he backed out of the driveway.
Michael sighed. “Let’s get this over with,” he said, and stomped back up the porch steps and into the house.
