THIRTY
Zeus
My neck cracks with a roll of my shoulders, the tension built up after a day with not enough breaks. I started last Monday under the illusion that I’d be doing the same work for more pay, but as the days have gone by it’s becoming a hell of a lot more apparent that all I heard from Jerry during my interview was what I wanted to hear.
An extra hour on Tuesday night, an early start on Thursday, a double shift Monday just gone, and now here I am on Friday about to start an extra half shift because “We need to make a name for ourselves early, so the job comes first.”
Sure, but at what expense?
After the shit that went down with Cerise all I wanted to do was spend quality time with Belle. Yet so far all I’ve done is sleep on the goddamn sofa until she nudges me and forces me to bed. Not to mention that now she’s working a full week, I barely see her as it is.
I pull my phone out of my pocket as I head over to the digger—fuck the rules. If I don’t show up for dinner without a single word, Belle’s bound to lose her mind.
She’s gone off the rails about damn near every little thing lately, acting all moody and sullen. All I can figure is I’m in the dog box for that shit with Cerise, whether I explained it or not. Who’d know? Women have always been a fucking enigma for me, and it seems age doesn’t change that.
“Hey,” she answers, tired. “You on your way home?”
I cringe. “Nope. Got asked to do another three or four hours. I’ll get overtime.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” she drones. “Will that make up for how tired you’ll be all weekend? How can they make you do such a long day?”
“Dove.”
“No, Zeus.” She huffs. “You’ve come home most nights and just crashed. I feel as though I’m missing out.”
“It’s a new job, babe. I can’t cause trouble out the gate. Trust me—I can’t be fucked doing this either, but I have a good impression to make.” I hoist myself into the cab with my free hand.
Fuck. If I can support her while she works her arse off to get her career off the ground, why can’t she do the same with mine?
She stays silent, the hum of the television in the background the only thing that tells me she’s still there.
“I’ve got to get back to it, okay. Love you, dove.”
“Love you too,” she cedes. “I’m sorry. I miss you, is all. You fall asleep before you even get to bed. I feel as though I’m home alone half the time. We barely get any time together.”
“That’s life as a working adult, babe. It’s only temporary, okay?” I can’t fight the feeling there’s more, but until she gives me reason to believe my suspicion I’ll keep the thought to myself. “I’ll call before I head home.”
She leaves me with a softly spoken “Okay.”
I spend the next hour and a half digging a channel with her on my mind. She was so damn happy to make our dream a reality and move in, but ever since she has, shit has gone south. Why? Is it purely because she feels I don’t pay her enough attention? Or have all the things her parents said about us planted a seed of doubt in her mind?
Damn—I’d spend all night awake with her to hash this out if I thought I could get away with it the next day. But it turns out John had an ounce of truth in his concerns: my body isn’t what it used to be. Fuck, some days I’ve skipped the gym because I couldn’t stomach the thought of lifting more shit, moving more things around.
And for me, that’s unheard of.
I jump down from the machine for my final break, hoping like hell this isn’t how it’s going to be from here on out. No sooner do I have a travel mug in one hand, and the hot water in the thermos in the other, than my goddamn phone rings. I set everything down, stepping aside so one of the shovel boys can make his coffee as I pull the phone out.
If it’s Belle, I get the impression missing her call won’t go down all that well right now.
Turns out it’s not.
“Hey. Everything okay?”
Jodie laughs. “Yeah. Don’t panic.”
“What’s up, then?”
“Not much. I haven’t talked to you since we had that coffee at the mall, so I thought I might stop by and see you both. Is it a bad time?”
“Nah. I’m still at work, though. Belle’s home if you want to visit.”
“Eh?” I catch the faint cry of Bradley. “Why are you at work at this time of night?”
“New job.”
“Oh, that’s right.” She sighs. “You did tell me that.” Bradley’s cry gets louder. “I’ll just put you down a moment.”
I get back in line to make my coffee, the dull sounds of her cooing to the kid coming down the line as I stir my drink. She rustles on the other end, presumably putting the phone to her ear.
“Sorry. He’s teething.”
“All good.” I push down the regret that surfaces hearing her be a mum. “Did you want to come over tomorrow? Might even let you bring that jackass you’re marrying.”
She chuckles. “Well, aren’t you kind?”
“I think Belle would like to see you.”
“What makes you say that?”
I find a seat on a power box and sigh. “She’s been weird this past week.”
“How so?” Brad sniffles—by the sound he’s close to the mouthpiece.
“Short-tempered. I keep wondering if I’m doing something to piss her off. Did I have any annoying habits when we lived together?”
She snorts a laugh. “Any? Which one do you want me to start with?”
Great.
“No,” Jodie says. “In all seriousness, you didn’t do anything different to what any other man probably does: leave the toilet seat up, drop your laundry everywhere, empty food packets in the cupboard. She might be adjusting to it, is all.”
“She lived with that douche overseas, so it’s not as though she hasn’t shared accommodation before.” I take a sip of my coffee, peeling my lips back when I realise the fucking thing is too hot.
“Maybe. But the impression I got was that he was hardly ever there, always travelling, so maybe this seeing you every day thing is overwhelming.”
“You saying she might not want to see me that much?” Nah. “I don’t think so. She whined before about me always sleeping when I get in, said she feels like I’m not even there.”
“And you’re asking me why she’s acting weird?” Jodie snorts. “You men are such morons sometimes.”
“And where’s your man, huh?”
“Working as well,” she deadpans. “He’s working on some contract that the new outfit across the highway are involved in.”
Fuck off. “Jackson and Connell?”
“That’s the one.” The penny drops. “Is that who you’re working for now?”
“Mm-hmm.”
She falls apart, uncontrollable giggles making Bradley cry. “Oh, I’m sorry. But what are the chances?”
“Not that far-fetched, I suppose.” Still.
The foreman signals break is over, waving his arm at our small group. I toss back the last of my coffee, sucking the dregs clean to make sure I stay as awake as possible.
“Got to get back to it, Jodie. But make sure you do bring that arsehole over, hey?”
“All in good time.” She hesitates to hush Brad. “Pay your girl some attention. She wouldn’t be letting you know that it bothers her if it wasn’t really on her mind.”
“Yeah, I will.”
Anything to make sure my dove doesn’t get the urge to fly away home.
Anything to keep her where she belongs.