Page 72 of Something Tattered
I blew out a long breath. "Wow, no pressure there."
"Tell me about it." Joel turned away, gazing out over the water. "You know what it's like to lose your house?"
The question hit a little too close to home. Ididn'tknow. But lately, I'd been wondering if I might eventually find out.
Still, I shook my head. "No. Do you?"
"No. But I know what it's like to worry about it."
For some reason, that surprised me. "You own a house?"
"Not mine. My dad's. Back when I was a kid."
Of course.That made a lot more sense. "So you felt sorry for the guy?"
"Not just him," Joel said. "He's got a wife and three kids."
"Are you sure?" I asked. "I mean, how do you know that wasn't a lie, too?"
"Because I met them last week." Something in Joel's voice warmed. "The kids are pistols, cute as hell."
The warmth in his voice surprised me, and I couldn’t help but smile. I loved kids. I wanted ten of them – okay, maybe not ten. But I wanted a lot. If I had my way, I'd keep the house and fill it with a giant family to call my own.
Feeling almost shy about it, I said, "So you like kids?"
Joel gave a loose shrug. "Eh, depends on the kid."
I studied his face in profile. The answer felt like a copout, like he didn't want to admit, maybe even to himself, that he had a huge soft spot under that rough exterior.
Or maybe that was just my own wishful thinking.
I said, "So you took the job because of the kids?"
"Not just the kids," Joel said. "This guy? He's got two part-time jobs and a beat-up truck that's always breaking down. The house-painting, he does on the side. The guy's no slouch, but he's having a hard time catching a break, you know?"
I nodded. And even though I lived in a mansion, I could almost relate.
"Anyway," Joel continued, "just before I head out there, the guy hands me this check from the firm who hired him. I look down, and I seemyname. When I ask about it, he tells me he worked it out so I'd get something for showing up. And I tell him, 'Keep it. I don't need the money.'"
"You don't?"
Joel gave another shrug. "I'm doing alright."
Was that true? I realized that Joel drove an expensive car, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. I considered my own situation. I lived in a huge house, and yet, I could hardly afford ice cream.
I asked, "So then what happened?"
"You saw what happened. I get to that meeting, and who's there? The douchebag from the beach."
"Right. Derek." I tried to laugh. "I'm almost surprised you didn't bolt the minute you saw him."
"Yeah. Me, too." Joel gave a wry laugh. "I was actually pretty proud of myself."
"So whydidn'tyou leave?" I asked.
"Because I didn't want to screw over the guy who sent me. So I figure I'll let the douchebag have his fun, and get on with it." Joel smiled. "And who knows. Maybe I'd catch the douchebag later on, after the job's done and paid." An edge crept into his voice. "We could 'talk' again."
I didn't ask about what. But somehow, I doubted any actual talking would be involved.
