Page 27 of The Leaving Kind
Sucking her lips so that they nearly disappeared, she finally looked away from the screen. Glanced at Cam, then down at her coffee. She didn’t pick up the mug. A sudden urge to spill his mug washed through him. He could delay this moment by making a mess. He could—
“I’ve talked it over with my kids, and I’ve decided to sell the tree farm.”
Though the news wasn’t unexpected, it still hurt. But if asked, Cam wouldn’t be able to express why. Luisa’s decision didn’t amount to a rejection of his ideas or a lack of faith in his ability to keep the ball rolling. He knew that. His place in the grand scheme was not her primary concern. Yet, he felt as though he’d let her down.
How could he not? His mission, since he’d started working for the tree farm some twenty months ago, had been to be the best he could be. To be an asset. To be valuable. No matter the job, Cam always gave it his all. He didn’t know how to do otherwise. This job, though? He’d liked it. Loved it.
Luisa reached across the desk as though to touch the hand he had wrapped around his coffee mug. “This isn’t on you or your lack of effort. You’re one of the best employees I’ve ever had. You and Jorge both. But I don’t have the energy to do it anymore. I’m tired, Cameron. I want to retire. And if I sell before I start to lose money, I can retire well.”
“Will you head out west, live near your kids?”
“I spoke to Nadia last night.” Now her smile held warmth.
A reciprocal glow kindled in Cam’s chest. Despite the fact he’d soon be out of a job, he was happy for her. Luisa was a good person. He squared his shoulders. “Tell me how I can make this process easier for you.”
Luisa swallowed and sudden tears leaked from her eyes. “Damn it, Cam. Why do you have to be so decent?”
Cam found a laugh for that one. “Me? I’m a pain in this world’s ass. Ask my brother.”
“Mm-hmm.”
The low roar of Jorge’s beast of a car rounded the building. They both listened as a heavy door slammed and slow footsteps approached the door. Slight panic crossed Luisa’s face.
“He’ll be okay,” Cam said. “Just tell it to him straight.”
Jorge took the news silently and stoically. Afterward, outside with a thin sheaf of delivery slips gripped in one hand, Cam positioned himself in front of Jorge and said, “If the new owners decide to plow over these fields and build little houses, we’ll find something else to do. You and me.”
Jorge met this proclamation with a quiet nod and held out a hand for the slips. Cam passed them over and Jorge sorted them into order with Cam watching over his shoulder. No deliveries to Raymondskill Road.
Shortly after three that afternoon, Cam pulled his car into Melanie’s driveway. She popped out of the front door before he’d exited the car, and crossed the front lawn to meet him.
“You must be a mind reader.” She held up her phone. “I was literally about to text you.”
“Yeah?”
“The mower. I jammed it again. Backyard, this time. I know, I know. I should have used the weed whacker first, but I thought the grass looked thinner.”
“You’re not mowing the top, though. You’re mowing from the bottom.”
A light snapped on in Melanie’s eyes. “Huh. Four years of college and I don’t know how to cut grass.”
Laughing, Cam gestured toward the backyard. “Let’s go fix your mower.”
Melanie fell into step beside him. “What brings you out this way?”
“I was heading home from work and thought I’d stop in to see how it was going.”
When he’d last been here, they’d put together an extensive to-do list for fixing up the house as well as the yard. Mostly exterior projects. Melanie hadn’t invited him inside, and he hadn’t asked. He was a relative stranger, after all.
“Good! I got a couple of quotes for the windows, and they’re much more expensive than I thought they’d be.”
Cam nodded. “It’s worth getting good windows, though. They’re going to help with your heating and cooling bills. And professional installation is probably the best way to go. I’d offer to help with a small window, but that big one at the front? You need a professional for that. It’s got to seal right, all around.”
Nodding and smiling, Melanie pulled out her phone and tapped at a note screen. Then they were at the mower, which was stuck at the end of one chewed-up stripe of not appreciably shorter grass. Chuckling, Cam patted the upright handle. “You poor thing.”
Melanie laughed.
Once again, he took her through the steps for safely untangling the grass from the rotor. They had to take the blade off to get at all of it. He let Melanie reattach it and watched as she worked the wrench to tighten the nut afterward.