Page 44 of Fight or Flight
CHAPTER XV
AIDAN - THREE MONTHS later
Brody parks the company pickup truck next to a wooden house, and we all exit to see it from close. I stand next to Tommy, a guy who’s been working for the boss for a while now, whom I've become good friends with practically over the first week I started.
It came as a surprise that I would find a connection with the quiet, kind type, but Tommy has been fucked over by life a lot, so maybe that’s how we were able to bond so fast. We’ve both been through it, but in entirely different ways. Yet, the unspoken understanding we share made it possible for us to become each other’s rock. He helped me a lot during the hard transition I had to undergo when I came out of prison—no judgment – just kindness.
And having him teach me the ropes about working on a construction was a great bonus. I found out very soon how pedantic Brody can be when it comes to his projects and how badly he reacts when you fuck something up. And I did fuck up a lot of stuff at first. But I’m proud to say that those rookie mistakes are few and far between now.
“Another project?” I ask Tommy under my breath and glance at the woodsy yet modern construction.
Tommy just shrugs and walks after the boss as he continues to limp around the house without his cane, waving his hands around as he discusses something with his uncle who came with us today.
The old man is named Frank, and he sometimes shows up to fill in for Brody when he’s dealing with some “family issues”. I actually like those days, not because we don’t have to work as hard as we do, but because it’s still hard for me to be in the man’s presence and not be reminded of what I did and about my time in prison.
When we round the house, I catch sight of a big ass terrace facing the forest and a small garden with flowerbeds and neatly trimmed bushes. Tommy joins them, and they all start to discuss something, but since I’m still only the helper, I don’t bother joining.
All of a sudden, Brody turns around and addresses me as Tommy comes back to stand by my side.
“So, what you think?”
“About... ?”
“About the house.”
I glance at it once more. “Um, nice digs, I guess?”
He gives me a deadpan stare as his uncle makes a weird sound and then coughs, trying to cover it. I don’t know if it was a sound of disapproval or if he’s amused by my dumbass act.
Tommy jabs me with his elbow and whispers, “Dude, that’s the boss’s house.”
“Oh? Oh! Yeah, man, nice house. I like the...” I wave my hand around, indicating the whole building. My God, why can’t I be normal around the man that signs my fucking paychecks and my goddamn parole papers.
“That’s not what I meant,” he grinds, and I can see he’s truly annoyed. And in a terrible mood today. Before he can continue, Frank cuts in.
“We were talking about reconstructing the house since it’s going to be tight in there soon with the new baby coming.”
“Oh, shit. You’re having a baby? That’s great, man. Congrats!” I say sincerely, kind of surprised by the news. I don’t know much about Brody’s personal life, and I never ask, not even Tommy. Brody and I aren’t friends, no matter how much time we spend working together. I just owe him.
For the first time since he pulled up to grab us this morning, Brody’s lips turn up in a smile. “Thanks.” Then he looks up at the house, and his expression quickly turns back to the stony one. “There’s not a chance we will finish before she’s born, but I guess we’ll just put the crib in our bedroom for a few months.”
“You know it would be easier to accommodate you all if your guest moved to the shelter like Ruth offered,” Frank mutters to him, but his eyes are glued to the house.
Brody shakes his head and sighs, “Jen doesn’t want to even hear about it. It’s like they’re fucking joined at the hip. She’s watching her like a hawk all the time, worried that she’ll relapse.” The last part is said quieter, and I don’t know if it’s so Tommy and I don’t hear it, or he just doesn’t want whoever’s in that house to know his thoughts on the subject.
Frank murmurs something back and then shakes his head before snapping his eyes to me.
“So, can you do it, kid?”
“What exactly do you want me to do here?” I ask, confused.
“You can draw, right? And Tommy here told us that you’ve been thinking about starting that online architecture course and whatnot. Maybe you’ll come up with an idea of rebuilding the house so it doesn’t look wonky when we finish but has enough space to fit the whole family.”
I actually started the classes two months ago. But I won’t voice that.
After getting my GED diploma while in prison, I struggled with finding the motivation to pursue getting an actual degree even when there were free courses available for us. I thought there was no way I’d be out so soon, so I gave up on further education.