Page 35 of Grin and Bear It

“Hi…” Nash looked washed out and kinda squirrelly, his brows knotting then smoothing again as he tried to smile. “Look, I’m sorry for bugging you like this but…” He peered at me then and I resisted the urge to step back. “Hey, are you OK?”

Don’t look at me, the sensible part of my brain snapped.Don’t see me like this! Don’t search my face like that, looking for explanations, because there are none. Don’t… start making decisions about who I am.But I didn’t say any of that because any confidence he had in me as a teacher would evaporate.

“I’m…” My mind searched for a socially acceptable reason to justify why I looked like death warmed up. “I’m not much of a morning person.”

“Oh, still need your coffee, huh?” He grinned at that; his fears allayed. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He looked at his watch and then winced as he saw the time. “And I’m here real fucking early.” He shook his head, looking strangely nervous. “Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Two sorrys in rapid succession.” When I tried to smile, it felt like my face would crack. “Are you OK?”

“No.” I was taken aback by his blunt admission, so much so that my brain was completely derailed by it. “I mean… yeah, but nah…” He snorted and then stared down at me. “Do you mind if I come in? I wanted to talk about the boys.”

And there it was, the one thing that he could’ve said to guarantee him entry into my house.

“What’s wrong with the boys?” The grey cloud smothering me started to fade as my heart rate picked up. “Did you find them yesterday afternoon? Are they OK?”

“Yeah, I found them and…”

His jaw flexed and then tightened as he saw the door jam again, a frown forming that deepened by the second.

“Look, I know you’re not sold on this whole renovations for tutoring the boys thing, but can I fix this bloody door for you?” He stared at me, a mute plea in his eyes and I had no idea what that was about. But before I could answer, Coll came over.

“Yes, yes, you can… Shit, you’re Ellie’s Nash?” Her grin widened and then she looked at me and then him.

“Colleen?” He blinked then pointed his finger in the air. “We met at that big BBQ they had at Alaric’s place. You’re Dale’s m—” His focus shifted to me. “Dale’s partner.”

“One and the same!” One hand went to her hip. “Nash is a friend of Dale’s,” she explained. “Well, come in! After you fix that bloody door, of course. I’ve got breakfast cooking…”

There wassomething hot about a guy who could fix things, so maybe that’s why I was reluctant to let Nash fix the door, but with Coll’s approval, he didn’t need mine, going back to his ute to grab his tool box. I just stood there like a stunned mullet as he chocked up the door and then pulled out his drill and started pulling out the screws on the hinges. Coll had disappeared back into the kitchen, so it was just me watching his biceps pop as he put in a tech bit and then slotted that into the first screw, using the drill to draw it out. He placed one screw in his mouth, then another before I had a chance to speak.

“So, the boys…?” I asked.

He shot me a sidelong look, shifting then, because if there were multiple me’s then there were also multiple Nashes. This one was all business, moving with complete confidence as he removed the door from the hinges, frowning slightly as he worked. He had the door off in what seemed like seconds, his strong hands pulling it off the frame and setting it against the wall before he took a long look at it.

“We could replace this, y’know,” he told me. “New door and with a proper deadbolt too.” He eyed the spindly little thing that was no doubt installed when the house was built. “Paint it a nice Brunswick green and the house a warm grey.”

“Nash—”

“Maybe some ox-blood red on the trim.”

“Nash.” I found my voice then, injecting some of the authority I used with naughty students. And just like them he let out a sigh, the other Nash coming to the fore.

“I fucked up,” he said, staring at the door as if it personally offended him.

“The door?”

“What? No. Fuck, I could sort that out in an hour tops if I did go and get a new one and then give it a quick sand…” His voice was almost hopeful. I just waited him out. He sighed. “No, the boys.”

He set the drill down carefully, going back to his tool box and sorting through it until he pulled out a couple of pairs of fresh hinges and a hammer and chisel.

“I was always the fun uncle, coming in and riling the kids up when they were little.” He snorted as he smiled to himself. “Getting them noisy toys to drive Sharney nuts, and feeding them too much sugar. I wasn’t when we got the news. The twins were staying with us as their parents went overseas. The boys were pretty pissed about not being able to go over to the States but…”

The look he gave me then was searing, his honey brown eyes turning to gold in the morning light.

“Thank fuck they didn’t, right?” I didn’t reply, sensing I didn’t need to. He moved over to my door, scraping the paint away from the old hinges and then hammered the chisel into their top edges to pry them off. “Then they’d be all gone, every single one of them.” His breath came in short whistles as he inspected the hinges, frowning further before tossing them into his tool box. “Instead they’re here, stuck with me.”

“Nash—”

“I did my best when I gave them the news. My fucking heart was broken and so were theirs, but I was there for them. I got them through that fucking funeral.” I wanted to move over to him, put a hand on his shoulder, but I didn’t dare. “I made sure they ate food, and had a shower. I got them up in the morning, and then back into bed at night, but…”

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