Page 2 of Single-Minded
Levi: You sure? You good with this?
West: 100% sure.
“I gotta roll,” I told Allison and my girls. “Love you, squirrels,” I said to my daughters, rounding the kitchen table and kissing each in turn.
“Love you, Daddy!” they all said.
I grabbed my lunch from the fridge, my day’s worth of beverages, and my work bag.
“Be good for Allison,” I called on my way out the door. “Allison, call if you need anything.”
“We’ll be fine,” the babysitter assured me.
I headed out into the morning sunshine. The weather was already promising to be sweltering by afternoon. I was thankful to be starting a weeks-long indoor project. A cush job, as Nick Carlisle, the lead of the other crew and my competition for Davis’s job, had pointed out last week. I’d happily take it, as he was overseeing a boathouse, deck, and gazebo build.
I climbed into my SUV, my mind switching from little-girl mode to work.
Levi Dawson, the owner and head contractor, had turned things upside down at work last week, or rather Davis’s retirement announcement had. Levi’s method of replacing the fifty-something workhorse was smart as hell. He’d pitted me versus Nick Carlisle, as we had seniority and the most experience. For the next two to three months, we’d each lead a crew on separate projects. At the end of the summer, he’d make one of us the foreman directly under him for good.
That was going to be me if I had anything to say about it.
The project I was heading up would likely take close to two months, maybe more, depending on any supply delays. Apparently it was a big-ass project, and the homeowner was paying big-ass bucks to have it squeezed into a cancellation slot.
I checked the address for the job and noted it was on Honeysuckle Road, out by my buddy Max’s house, if I wasn’t mistaken. I pointed the SUV that way.
As Levi was the one to meet with potential clients and bid out projects, I didn’t know much about this one other than what the plans told me. It was a main floor gut of a big house directly on the shore. That tracked with being a neighbor of Max, who’d played in the NFL a few years back and had the lakeside house to show for it.
Since Levi had planned to meet the homeowner and me first thing this morning to go over the project in detail, I didn’t even know the homeowner’s first name. She was apparently new to town, obviously had some cash, and I couldn’t help but picture a hoity-toity widow in her sixties. None of that mattered to me. I just hoped she was easygoing, not a clientzilla, because I intended to rock the hell out of the project.
As I drove through downtown Dragonfly Lake, a text message sounded through the SUV’s Bluetooth system. My ex-wife’s name popped up on the display.
“Happy fucking Monday,” I muttered to myself.
I didn’t hear from Flora often, which pissed me off on the girls’ behalf but was a blessing as far as my peace level was concerned. There was nothing peaceful about Flora.
I had the Bluetooth system read her message to me.
Flora: We’ll be in the area tomorrow. Want to take the girls to an early dinner before Gil’s show. Can we pick them up at three?
“God dammit.” I pounded the steering wheel. “Three isn’t fucking dinner; it’s the middle of the afternoon.” The girls would need a fourth meal before bedtime if they ate at three.
Flora’s appearances were few and far between. As much as I questioned whether she was a positive part of the girls’ lives, she was their mother. I kept hoping she’d get her shit and her priorities together and be someone they could look up to, but that seemed to be more and more of a pipe dream.
I dictated my response.
West: Do I have a choice?
Flora: Don’t be like that.
West: Honest question. Do I have a choice between three tomorrow or maybe you could fit them in the next day and spend more time with them?
Flora: We have to be in Omaha the next day.
Of course they did.
In other words, my only choice was either to let the girls spend a tiny slot of time with their mom or make them miss out altogether. It was a shitty choice, but when I’d gotten full-time custody, I’d agreed Flora could visit her daughters whenever she wanted to. Back then, I’d hoped she’d be a regular presence in their lives instead of a special event whenever she and her guitarist boyfriend happened to be close enough to stop by for a few minutes.
West: I’ll be working at three.
