Page 82 of The Deadbeat Next Door

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Cody

It took every bit of willpower I had to walk out of Carrie’s house and not grab her. Not pull her into my arms and tell her how much she meant to me. But I had to stick to the plan. She was worth the grand gesture. She was worth it all.

I drove back to my place, what I finally thought of as my place, now that Bart had accepted my money and sold it to me. As the godfather said, I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. He was welcome there any time and he could have all the free wine he could drink, if I ever managed to get any grapes to grow.

Bart was sitting on the front porch in his usual rocking chair and I heard banging from inside the house. I took a seat next to Bart.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

“I’m pretty sure she hates me. But the kids are on my side.”

“Hate is good. It ain’t too far a leap from hate to love.”

“Sure,” I said, lacking his confidence. “How is that obnoxious neighbor of yours?” Bart had moved into a small retirement community on the edge of town and there was a lady next door who gave him nothing but trouble, according to him.

“Ornery as ever. She got on my case just this morning for cutting down a rose bush in my front yard. My front yard. I told her if she wanted the rose bush she could have it, but she wouldn’t take it. Infuriating woman wants me to take care of the dang thing so she can enjoy the view with none of the work.”

I laughed. “You cut it down anyway, right?”

He rocked for a moment, staring out at the yard. “It’s a fine rose bush. Really isn’t that much trouble. Figured if it meant that much to her, I’d leave it there.” He sighed. “Not that she appreciated it. Got all flustered ‘cause I didn’t speak kindly to her. I left the damn rose bush there, what more did she expect?”

“Sounds high maintenance to me.”

He grunted in satisfaction.

“What are they doing in there?” I asked. I wasn’t exactly flush, but the house had needed some immediate work and Bart had recommended some guys to do it cheap. They’d put on a new roof and replaced the plumbing where it was needed, but they weren’t the most reliable guys for showing up when they said they would. I couldn’t complain, because I needed the work done fast and they were the cheapest crew I could find. I was impressed by the multiplicity of their skills.

“I’m not sure,” Bart said. “You might want to check on them. They’re good boys, but they’re strange as a two-headed sow.”

I hopped up from my seat and followed the banging to the second floor, where the guys had pulled down sheet rock and were working on the joists. “What are y’all doing?”

Jersey, a tall, skinny guy with hair that stuck out in all directions like he’d stuck his finger in an electrical outlet, paused and looked at me over his shoulder. “Fixing the water damage, man. It’s not nearly as bad as we thought it’d be.”

“That’s great,” I said. “But I can’t actually pay you for that work, yet.” The bank and my investors were footing the bill for the work I’d be doing building the winery, but the house repairs were on my own dime. My own very slim dime. If I could find some extra hours between building the winery and preparing the vineyard, I might have to get a part-time job.

“We know, man,” Winston said. He was as round as his partner was lean, but his mullet was always neatly combed. “But you’re good for it and you can’t live in a house with water damage. Best we get this fixed up for you right now.”

“It could be months before I pay you,” I said. “The new roof and plumbing pretty well bled me dry.”

“So, you pay us in a few months or you pay us in favors,” Winston said.

“Favors?”

“Sure,” Winston said. “Free wine, like you offered Bart, or a job here once the business is up and running.”

“Why would you want a job here? You have your own business.”

“We don’t like the hours,” Jersey said. “We’re night owls and don’t nobody want handyman work down at midnight.”

“Nobody ‘cept you,” Winston said. “We figured you might need a couple of night time workers.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “We’ll work something out. Just as long as you two understand I can’t pay you right now.”

“Got it, boss,” Winston said. “We’ll be heading out about eleven so we can get some sleep.”

“Sounds great.” Jersey and Winston’s preferred work day ran from midnight or one in the morning to ten or eleven in the morning. Humans were supposed to be diurnal, even night owls usually slept during the hours Winston and Jersey liked to be awake. I suspected scientists would love to study them. I headed back out to the porch just in time to see my brother pull up with my mother in the passenger seat and Aubrey and Jill in the back. My mother’s boyfriend had been unable to make it.

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