Page 70 of Hold

“It’s never good when you start with ‘Jacob.’” A twist came to his mouth that might have been a smile.

“Jake, then.” Liam didn’t try to look at him. How the hell he was going to get this across without sounding insufferably patronizing and… and teacher-y? He’d already started with the dreaded full name.

“Are you firing me?” Jake burst out. “’Cause Mom said—”

“No!” Okay, so he’d better look at him. Shit, the kid looked terrified. “No, Jake, of course I’m not firing you.” He put a hand on Jake’s shoulder and shook it. “What I’m trying to say is that… whatever is happening in your life right now… however things turn out… I’m here if you ever want to… vent.” He waited for Jake to roll his eyes and say,yeah, right, but the boy was silent. “Okay?”

“Did you and Mom break up? She’s sorry we lied to you about my dad coming back.”

Liam ran a hand down his beard. “What I’m saying to you is outside anything your mom and I have to sort through.” Jake’s eyes were downcast, staring at his Coke can. “Outside of your relationship with your dad. This is about you and Benji and me. And I want you to know I’m still here. If you need anything.”

They both watched the Coke can now. Slowly it began to crumple inward, squeezed by Jake’s fist. “I don’t have a relationship with my dad,” Jake said to the can. “His choice.”

Liam nodded, though Jake couldn’t see. “Eventually—not now, but someday—you might find it less… exhausting to make peace with him, if he means what he says about rebuilding that.”

Jake ducked his head away, stood up, and threw the can with sudden violence into the bushes behind them. Some birds stopped singing and then cawed loudly.

“One more thing,” Liam said, standing himself. “Don’t take it out on others, okay? This is hard for everyone.” He went over to the bushes to find the can. “Especially the environment.” He looked back with a smile, and Jake was giving him a reluctant half smile back.

“Now quit lounging around and get back to work.” Jake quickly put together the tools they needed to finish the day’s piping while Liam threw the remains of their lunch in the dumpster.

“What are we working on now?” Jake said when they were on their way to Sean O’Brien’s place later.

“It’s a quote. I get the plans and walk the site, if there’s any house there. Then I’ll go home and do a takeoff of the plans. I’ll show you, if you like.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Liam did some math. “I have to pick up your brother tonight. But we could go back to my house after that. I have a big dining table I can roll out the plans on.”

“Okay.” That was high enthusiasm from Jake.

“You’ll like this contractor,” Liam said. “He’s one of the good guys. Off the boat Irish—took me about three years to understand what he was saying.”

“Sounds like half my relatives. My Irish side.”

Right. Liam had forgotten Jake’s father had gone back to Ireland when he’d left them. Bad choice of subject.

“Then you won’t have a problem with Sean.”

He said that as he pulled into O’Brien’s yard. The impressive warehouse-type building on one side ruled over a site with backhoes, excavators, flatbed trucks, and vans similar to the one Liam was driving but withO’Brien Constructionand the cloverleaf logo on the side.

“Oh shit,” Jake said. Liam turned to him. Jake was paper white, his eyes round and blue and… scared?

“What is it?” Then Liam remembered their conversation. “No way. Heisyour family?”

Jake nodded, his eyes and mouth round. “My da’s—dad’s—cousin. The one who gave him all the work he kept screwing up. I didn’t know you were talking about O’Brien.”

“Oh.” Typical. Two million Irish in Massachusetts, and his job was now to impress the one whose cousin he already despised. “Do you see much of him? After…”

“After my dad left?” There was no compunction to say the words, just a caustic fatality to Jake’s voice. “No. They were too embarrassed, Mom said.”

“Do you want me to take you home? I can pick this stuff up later.”

“No.” In one jerky movement, Jake had the door open and was out, walking to the warehouse.

“Hold up!” Liam grabbed his notepad and phone and hopped out of the van himself, locking it as he ran to catch up with Jake.

He led Jake to the office door, around the corner from the showroom Sean had set up in the main warehouse. Up some much less impressive stairs and into the office area, which boasted beige walls and cubicles, some tired plants, and four or five men and women sitting at desks.

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