Page 5 of Griffin
"I stepped in to scare away the birds, Dad. That's all. And I sure as fuck didn't know who she was at the time."
"Right. Well, just in case you didn't notice, she?—"
"She's wearing a wedding ring. Now, should I go to work, or do you want to continue with this stupid conversation?"
"Yes, go to work. Hero, my ass," he scoffed as he walked away.
FOUR
SHAY
It seemed I'd had the full parade of workers walk through the trailer to introduce themselves. I joked to a few that I might need them to wear name tags until I memorized names. There was one name I already knew by heart. Colt's son, Griffin, had stopped by during his break to check how things were going and to ask if my pencils were cooperating. He had this sort of sigh-worthy quality about him—kindness mixed with hotness was always a refreshing combination, and rare. In fact, kindness was scarce all around these days, but it seemed I'd found a good job. I'd really gotten lucky, and luck wasn't something that landed in my lap often.
Colt stopped in the office. It was easy to see where Griffin got his looks. The two of them were nearly twins. "Some of us are making a run to Meg's Burgers. It's a little mom and pop place down the road. Are you interested in a burger? My treat."
"That's kind of you to offer, but I brought a lunch." I thought about my yogurt and banana lunch, and my stomach reached up and tapped my brain saying, "take the burger … please." I tamped down the idea.
"All right. If you're sure." Colt left and I walked to the small office refrigerator for my yogurt. I sat at the table and decided a blueberry scone might be the perfect dipper in lemon yogurt. That way the lunch wouldn't be a total disappointment.
I'd just settled into the chair with my scone and yogurt when my phone rang. I jolted at the sound because it rarely rang. Most of my friends vanished a few years after I married Tate. They wanted nothing more to do with me, and I couldn't blame them. I returned to the desk. It was him. My stomach tightened as if I was picking up a call from the doctor who was surely going to give me terrible news.
"Hello," I said, forcing an airy tone.
"Hey, hon, did you get my text?" I hated the sound of his voice, even when he wasn't being an asshole, mostly because I knew asshole Tate was just around the corner waiting to pop out.
"Yes, I'm sorry I didn't write back. I was busy. I started the new job today. It's really?—"
"What new job?" His tone sharpened.
"I told you about it. I'm office manager for a construction company. I think I'm really going to like it here."
"You never mentioned it."
"I did." I released a frustrated sigh. There was no sense in arguing because in his rock-hard head he was never wrong. "Anyway, it seems like a cool?—"
"How much?" he barked.
"How much?"
"Your fucking pay, dimwit. What else would I mean?" I went from hon to dimwit in a few short sentences. I actually preferred him acting like this because the other act was incredibly cringey.
"Twenty-five an hour and health insurance," I said proudly. I'd left behind thirty dollars an hour and four weeks' vacation, but I considered it a great starting salary.
He laughed. "What a fucking joke. Well, I guess since you're basically a novice at everything?—"
"I know my way around an office, Tate." It was much easier to respond sharply when he was far away in his truck and not within arm's distance where his fist could shoot out without warning.
"Yeah, whatever, but clearly the boss didn't think enough of you to pay a better salary."
My eyes started to ache, but I blinked fast to keep away tears. "I was glad to find a decent job. Remember, you're the reason we had to leave Parkhurst." I was feeling exceptionally brave because we were on the phone, but I was going to regret the conversation once he got back home.
The silence on his end was terrifying. "Only men working there?" he finally asked. His tone was so cold I felt a chill through the phone.
"What?" His icy tone had thrown me off balance. "Working where?"
"At the fucking circus, idiot, where do you think I mean?"
"Here, yes, I suppose so. It's a construction site." My voice wavered as I spoke, and I hated that because he knew that once again he'd broken me. I'd planned to leave him many times, but that was almost scarier than staying with him. Tate had assured me more than once that leaving him wasn't an option. He was gone for more than half the year, so I had half a life where I was free and smiling and generally happy.
