If I’d known Angel was going to pull a stunt like this, I’d never have given him so much information about my location. But I didn’t think he’d seriously show up! I mean, the old man is recovering from a stroke! Jesus!

Now the dumbass is here, waiting outside my trailer, with no one but the taxi driver to help him.

I’m pissed off, amused, and excited to see him, all at the same time. Even though this is the most inconvenient time to be pulling this crap…fucker!

But the more I think about it, the more like Angel it seems. The guy’s a solid, responsible guy…except when he’s being an unpredictable risk-taker.

I don’t know what I’m gonna do with him.

Traffic is slow as usual and it seems to take forever to get there. When I pull up, there’s the taxi, still sitting there.

Angel gets out of the car, and I’m struck by how different he looks from the last time I saw him, a few months ago.

Back then, he was still very fucked up from the stroke. He needed around-the-clock care and looked it. Feeble, shaky, wild-haired and unshaven. Hell, he looked old, really old. Even though he had live-in care –– and my help, too, almost every day, until I left for Ohio–– he still looked unkempt and frail. Not that it was his fault, of course, that’s just the way people look when they’re sick and struggling like that.

But the man who gets out of the cab today looks more like the old Angel. His hair looks more gray…no, it’s gotten whiter, actually, but now it’s neatly styled, shaved on the sides and longer on the top. A look that, usually, only a much younger man can pull off. But of course, it looks great on him.

He’s still pale though, the pallor of his skin showing through the remainder of his tan. He’s got a dapper, white goatee going on now; but he’s thinner. His clothes are hanging on him.

I open the truck door and stand on the running board, staring over the hood at him as he approaches.

“Blakey! You fuckin’ asshole! I told you I was better!” His voice sounds strong, but it still has that slight slur to it, as the paralyzed side of his mouth can’t quite form the words in such a way as to make the sounds come out right.

And his smile is still crooked…but so wide, his eyes nearly disappear.

As he makes his way around the car, I see that he still has a limp, still dragging the one foot. His smile is bright but crooked, his facial muscles not completely functional. And he’s still holding the hand on his paralyzed side curled inwards.

Shit. What the fuck is he doing? He’s not ready for this.

Still… it’s great to see him.

“Angel, you dumbass! What the fuck…?” I jump down, slam my truck door and embrace him, pounding him on the back. I deliberately push against him, testing his strength. I can feel his chest muscles tense, but it’s a slow reaction.

His strength isn’t great, either. He’s far from all the way back.

He instantly knows what I’m up to and tries to push back manfully. I don’t give him any ground, and he gets nowhere.

But I see that it pisses him off, and that is a good sign.

“I’ll get back in shape, Blake. I’ve been doing push-ups and pull-ups and shit. So…don’t fuck with me, kid!”

“Shee-it, Angel. You should’ve given me time to get something ready for you. But it’s great to see you. You’re looking good, old-timer!”

“I know!” He stands back, flexes his one bicep, but he keeps the other hand resting on the hood of my truck.

“What’d you do? Take an early flight?”

“No, I rode my trusty fuckin’ steed. Eeeee hee hee!” He wobbles, then has to steady himself on my truck again. “Why is this place so hard to find anyway? What a madhouse! You know how many people I had to ask before anyone even knew where this fuckin’ trailer is?”

“It’s hard to find because I like it that way,” I say. “I told you I don’t have anywhere for you to stay!”

“I’m staying right here with you, Blake.” I shake my head and start to protest, but he holds up a hand, grinning. “No, don’t be stupid. Just gimme a minute, okay? I gotta pay the taxi driver and then we’ll talk.”

He limps over and hands the driver some bills. The cab pulls away, revealing a couple suitcases sitting on the trailer steps.

“Well, now that you’re here, I guess you might as well come in.” I open the door and hold it for him. He climbs the steps shakily, holding onto the railing, then I grab his suitcases and we go inside.

* * *

“I lined up some Airbnb’s to check out. I have a bunch of appointments. Some today, tomorrow, and Friday. Actually, the first appointment’s in an hour. Uh…I know it’s short notice but, any chance you can get some time off work today and take me around to see these places?”

“Sure.” I think for a second. ‘In fact, I’ll take the rest of the week off, fuck it. But…Airbnb? Shit, Angel. What kind of accommodations you talking here?” I get us both a bottle of water and take a seat in the chair across from his.

“They’re all different, but mostly apartment-style. It’s temporary, Blake. It’ll do until I get something more permanent.” He’s sweating and looks wiped out now. Damn. He takes a handkerchief from a pocket and wipes his brow and neck, sighing.

“I wish I had somewhere decent to put you up. You can’t stay by yourself, you need help still.” He says nothing, doesn’t argue the point. Then, I hear what he actually said. “Wait, what? More permanent? You planning on staying?”

“Well…I been considering it.” He shrugs, smoothing his goatee. “I’ve had lots of time to think lately. Truth is, I’m tired of LA.”

“Is that right?” I’m surprised. I never thought I’d hear Angel saying such a thing.

“Yeah. I…I’m tired of… green Christmases, y’know? I’m tired of the same season year round. And how expensive it is! Did you know, if we both sell our houses out there, we could practically buy a goddamn subdivision in this town?”

“Yeah, no kidding. It’s brutal out there.”

“That’s not all. I’m real tired of all the flakes and the shallow, fucked-up people. For all their political-correctness and virtue-signalling, you can never trust ’em. They’re so full of shit.” He drinks some water. “And… maybe it’s not too late for me in the, uh, romance department. Maybe I could meet someone…special…out here. Someone real; who isn’t made of botox and plastic. Eeee hee hee!”

His laughter isn’t quite so hearty this time.

“You met someone nice,” he continues. “Someone decent. Maybe I could, too. I know I’m old, but even an old fart might get lucky.”

His voice is wistful. I drink some of my water and think about what he’s saying. Of course he’s right, especially about the social scene in LA. Not everyone there is some kind of a human mannequin, of course, but…yeah. People just seem more authentic in the Midwest. And his roots are here too, even though his mother died and he never knew his father.

All of our family is here. My parents, plus some other cousins who are their age, plus some other relatives here and there. Older and younger, both.

“I don’t wanna stay in LA by myself. This…” he points at his head, “brain explosion I had? It made me feel….”

“Vulnerable?”

“Yeah.” He nods soberly. “You’re the only family I have out there.” We’re both silent for a moment. “So, I figured, if you’re staying anyway, you might as well go full-time with Delcroft, take as much money from them as you can. And you can sell your place, and…”

“Hold it. Delcroft is going south, Angel.” I explain what just happened at the office to him.

“You obviously haven’t told them about your stake in Angel Wing.”

“Nope.” I grin back at him. “No one has a clue. They probably think I need their money.”

“Probably. Why else would they think you held out for a buck-twenty-five for six months? I mean, fuck, that’s a salary of a quarter million dollars a year. These idiots really do have more money than brains, don’t they?”

“Sure do. If it wasn’t such an easy score, I’d still be in LA. And if they weren’t already bleeding millions in fines, they’d never have made the offer. It’s a drop in the bucket for these dirty fuckers.” I shake my head. “I’m pretty sure they’re trying to get a racket going.”

“Racket? Is it what I think it is?”

“Yes, probably. They’re deliberately cutting corners. I’m positive now. Also, taking kickbacks from offshore manufacturers. Cheap equipment knockoffs keep showing up, on every site now. All that high-strength, forged stuff…you know how it is. Durable, American made, but expensive. If they can replace that with crap from Asia, for a penny on the dollar…? Yeah. Word is, some of the Delcroft family members have been approaching OSHA officials, trying to buy them off.”

“Shit. Sounds like a straight-up counterfeit goods operation.”

I’m nodding.

“Does the company do a lot of business in Asia?”

“Yep. Several of the family members make regular trips.”

“Well, they met some rats over there, by the sounds of it. Rats waving easy money around.” He snorts. “Not that I’m surprised, but, why didn’t you tell me all this before?”

“Because I wasn’t sure. I thought, at first, it might be honest error, or pure incompetence. Almost anyone at Delcroft could order safety equipment before Jenny and I started. Foremen, crew guys, nobody was trained, nobody had a clue what they were doing. And Jenny….she’s new, and under a lot of pressure. She’s made some mistakes, naturally. And at first I thought, maybe she’d been ordering the wrong stuff by accident. But no. It was never her.”

“You should’ve told me. I could’ve helped you figure it out.”

“Yeah. I should’ve. But I didn’t want to bother you while you were still trying to recover.”

“Bah!” He hates being left out and hates being seen as weak. He changes the subject. “So they’re already trying to buy off the OSHA guys, huh? Even out here? Next, it’ll be the politicians.”

“Right, if they’re not working that angle already. Fucking gangsters. I don’t know if all the Delcrofts are involved, but the ones who are? They’re not nice people and this is not a nice family business. They sabotage what I’m trying to do all the time. And they’re trying to buy off safety people at other contractors in town.”

“Rot always spreads, doesn’t it? But if you been playing detective Blake, you better watch your back!”

“Nah. Just been talking to some guys on the down-low. Nick, the owner of a company called Bennett Contracting, for example. Small, but coming up. Could turn into a major player. He got a nice contract for the city, work just got started. Anyhow, he says he’s already found counterfeit hardware on his jobs. We’ve been trying to figure out what to do. It’s fucking unreal, Angel.”

“Does Jenny know?”

“No! What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. She thinks the problems are accidental, the result of Delcroft’s disorganized, chaotic management. And some of them are! I feel bad for her, she tries so hard but she’s never going to actually make a difference in this job.”

“I hope none of this spills over on her. You ever thought they might try to make her a stooge?”

“Yes. The kind of money involved here makes people crazy. Dangerous, maybe. That’s why I want her out.”

“Shit. That reminds me. You hear about Bob, the safety guy at Boreacchi Construction?”

“No.”

“Three days ago. He fell off the roof of a building he was inspecting. No witnesses. Investigation in progress but it’ll likely be declared accidental. Funny, huh? Fall protection expert, years in the business, falls off a roof. Just as he was about to expose some of the rats in the industry.”

“Jesus Christ. Seriously?” I stare at him. Everyone knew Bob. It seems incredible that he’d have an accident like that.

Angel’s nodding. “That’s what happens when you have a multi-billion-dollar, global business. The sharks come out.”

“What a shame! This is getting scary, Angel. The stakes are too fucking high now.”

“I know! It’s not like when we first got into the business. It’s a whole different ballgame now, Blakey.”

“Yeah. Like I said, I’m gonna bail out of my contract as soon as I can. But, now, I might have a hard time convincing Jenny to come with me. Yesterday, she hated the job, hated the company, but today, she seems to have changed her mind. She dug in her heels when I said we should quit together.”

“She probably doesn’t like being told what to do, is all. How many times I gotta tell ya, women don’t like being told what to do.”

“I know, I know. I just want to look after her, make sure she’s safe. I don’t care what you say, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Who says it’s wrong? It’s not wrong, you just gotta go about it in a certain way. Lead her, Blakey. Don’t push her. No one likes to be pushed.”

“If I think something bad is gonna happen to her, I’m not gonna stand around and watch.”

Angel gives me a long look. I wonder if he’s gonna lecture me about keeping her at arms length or doing too much for her, like he usually would.

Instead, he grins. “Is she the one?”

“Maybe. I think so.” I grin back.

He heaves a deep sigh. “Lucky bastard. I don’t suppose she’s got any older sisters?”

Wow! Having a stroke really has changed Angel’s tune.

“Nah,” I say. “It’s only her and her mom.”

Waving a hand at me, he mutters, “Just kidding,” and pulls out his phone. “Well, we better get moving. I gotta start looking at these accommodations if I’m gonna find a place to stay. I still have to call around and find a home worker.”

“Hey! I almost forgot! Elaine––that’s Jennifer’s mom––she’s a home care nurse herself.”

“Oh yeah?”

“She has a fully-equipped hospital room at her house, actually. Hospital bed, sling, all that stuff. She nursed her husband in the months before his death.”

“Huh.”

“It’s kind of funny, actually. I just met her last night and we talked about you.”

“Aw, Jesus, Blake! Why? I hope you didn’t make her feel sorry for me!’

“Sorry for you? She said “keep that crippled motherfucker away from me, whatever you do.” We both laugh. “No, we were just shooting the shit about you because of her line of work. She said she’s thinking of eventually renting that spare room out to a boarder. I mean, I don’t think she’s ready for that yet…but she said she could recommend a worker for you.”

“I want a male worker. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I don’t need your girlfriend’s mom trying to wipe my ass.”

“She wouldn’t touch your wrinkly old ass. Unlike yourself, the lady has some class.”

“Heh heh. Let’s go. I gotta check in at the Marriott downtown, then we can go look at a couple places.”

“Which reminds me. We’ll trade your room for a connecting suite at the hotel. I’m staying with you until we get a round-the-clock worker lined up.”

“Blake, I’ll be okay for a couple….”

“No fucking way. I’m staying with you and that’s that. Got it?”

“Okay! Jesus! Got it.”

We stand up and head for the door. Angel wobbles a bit but steadies himself quickly. “Can we call your girlfriend’s mom tomorrow? Look, I know I still need help. But tonight? I just wanna relax. I haven’t been out since this shit happened. I need to…feel like a human again. I wanna hit a sports bar and test out my pool game. I bet it’s still better than yours.” He squints at me in mock-challenge. “You t’ink you up for dat, muchacho?”

“Pffft, you the one ain’t up for it, Gramps,” I say.

Then, I wince when the playful punch he throws at my arm connects with a solid thud.

I give him an admiring nod as I rub my arm.

“Eeeee hee hee,” he laughs. “I told ya, I’m coming back. I’m a Cameron, same as you. And we ain’t the kind to stay down.”