SIX

So many layers, it would take a lifetime to reveal them all.

Leelo

“Mom?”

The sound of my son’s voice puts an instant bounce in my steps as I juggle my groceries to hold the phone to my ear.

“Hey, baby, how are things?”

“Slowing down a bit. I was wondering if you’re going to be around this weekend?”

My heart does a skip in my chest, and my cheeks hurt from the size of the smile on my face.

“All weekend, honey. No big plans, unless you count laying floors and painting endless walls.”

Matt’s chuckle washes over me like a warm blanket. A lot deeper sounding than it used to, but still familiar and reminding me of the tight relationship we once had. It fills me with hope.

“Want some company? I worked through the last two weekends and Dad gave me Monday and Tuesday off. I can probably get out of here around three.”

“Yes! Oh my God—yes, absolutely. I can’t wait to see you. Can’t wait for you to see the place, you’ll love it.”

“I’ll bring my tools,” he offers, and I swear my heart melts a little.

“You don’t have to, baby. You’ve obviously been working hard; you deserve a break. Just come and enjoy. There’s supposed to be great fishing here, and the other day I found an old canoe by the edge of the water.”

“Okay,” he responds, a smile clear in his voice. “I’ll bring my rod, but I want to come help too, Mom. I feel bad I wasn’t able to get away when you called.”

“Oh, Bud, no. Don’t worry about that. I ended up getting some help from a neighbour with the roof.” I don’t tell him the same neighbour had to rescue me off there first, it would only make him feel bad. “He’s actually been really helpful,” I admit, thinking about the afternoons Roar’s been by this week, working on the plumbing. Not that I’ve seen much of him. His truck just appears parked outside the units. The first day he returned, I looked in on him, tried to get him to quote me a price for the work, but he just shot me down with a sharp look from those deep-set, hazel eyes. Other than dropping off something to drink or eat from time to time, I’ve mostly steered clear.

It takes me a while to notice the silence on the other side of the line.

“Matt? You still there?”

“Do you know him?” I bite off a grin when I hear the tone of Matt’s voice. My boy is growing into a man. A very protective one by the sound of it.

“I do now. He runs a fishing lodge a little further up the lake. Not the most personable guy, he doesn’t talk much, but he takes neighbourly to a whole new level,” I inform him. “He’s good people, Matt.”

“I’ll check him out when I get up there.”

“You do that,” I concede, barely able to hide the smile in my voice.

“I’ve gotta go, Dad’s calling me.”

“Okay, honey. I’ll see you tomorrow night, and please, please, drive careful. A lot of moose and deer on the roads up here this time of year.”

“I know, Mom. I will.”

He ends the call and I tuck the phone in my pocket before unlocking the Jeep and loading in my groceries. My boy is coming. A big smile on my face, I climb behind the wheel and check the back seat to make sure I have everything. Four bags—it’s not enough.

Half an hour later, I load six more bags on the back seat. Matt is a garborator: a bottomless pit. He’s one of those kids who will stand in front of a fully-stocked fridge and proclaim there is nothing to eat. So I bought everything I know he likes.

“Looks like you’re feeding an army.” I hear behind me, just as I’m closing the back door. I turn to find Kyle Thompson leaning against his shiny car parked beside mine. I hadn’t even noticed it.

“Hey, Kyle.” I’ll be polite, but the guy is really annoying, the way he seems to appear out of nowhere.

“So are you?” he asks, raising a well-groomed eyebrow.

“Sorry?”

“Feeding an army?”

“Oh.” I follow his gaze at the pile of groceries in my car. “No, just my son. Although he eats enough for an army.”

“I didn’t know you had a son.”

It’s on my lips to tell him there’s a lot he doesn’t know about me, and I’m not about to change that soon, but I swallow it down. I may dislike the man, but this is a small town, and he’s clearly an important part of it. Probably not smart to start pissing folks off when I’m trying to rebuild a business here. So I plaster a smile on my face before I answer.

“I do, and he’s coming for a visit.” I watch as Kyle folds his arms over his chest and leans a hip against his car.

“He your only child?”

“I have a daughter as well. She lives in Toronto now.”

“I see,” he says, and I wonder what exactly he thinks he’s seeing, but I don’t much like this conversation.

“Well, I’d best be going. I’ve got some stuff in there that needs freezing,” I offer, pointing at the groceries. I already have the door in my hand when he speaks again.

“Couldn’t help but notice Doyle’s truck outside your place for a few days now. Remember I mentioned some people you should probably stay away from? Especially, if you want to build a good name for yourself in this town. Roar Doyle would not be helpful in accomplishing that.” The sneer of his mouth when he says Roar’s name strikes the wrong chord, and I instinctively jump to his defense.

“For your information, not that it’s any of your business, but Roar has been nothing but helpful.”

Kyle’s derisive snort in response only agitates me further.

“I’m sure he has,” he says with a smirk. “He’s always been good with the ladies. Someone like you should be easy pickings for him.”

I’m so shocked at his words; I don’t even have a chance to respond before he’s in his car, pulling out of the parking lot. The happy buzz I had just minutes ago evaporated as I stare after his car, disappearing down the road.

Well, ouch.

-

It isn’t until the next morning that I have a chance to talk to Roar. When I came back from town yesterday, his truck was already gone. I busied myself cooking and baking in preparation of Matt’s arrival all last night and finally rolled into bed after midnight.

By eleven this morning, I’ve had breakfast, finished laying the laminate in unit six, did the laundry, and am putting clean sheets on the spare bed, when I hear the crunch of wheels on the gravel. I peek out the window just in time to see Roar pull his toolbox from the back of his truck and disappear out of sight.

Armed with a plate of cheese biscuits and a thermos of fresh coffee, I make my way over to unit two, the last bathroom left to fix.

“What’s with you and Kyle Thompson?” I blurt out, coming in the door. No tact. No finesse. Just a head full of burning questions that plagued me since I watched that wretched man drive off yesterday. Roar is rummaging through his toolbox when he turns around.

“Morning to you, too,” he deadpans, a sardonic smirk on his lips.

“Sorry. Morning,” I correct myself, duly chastised with just a few words. “I brought you coffee and biscuits.” I hold out the plate and thermos as a peace offering.

He tilts his head, his eyes never leaving my face. I set everything down on the dresser, and nervously wipe my hands on my jeans.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” he finally asks, turning his body to face me.

I drop my head, let out a deep sigh, and drop down on the edge of the bed.

“Yesterday, Kyle approached me in the parking lot of the Valu-mart and repeated something he’d said to me once before; about avoiding certain people,” I start.

“Let me guess; he mentioned me specifically?”

“Yesterday. Yes,” I admit, surprised to see a smile ghost over his mouth. “I mean, he alluded to it last time, but this time he basically said I should stay away from you, if I wanted to succeed making a living here. I told him it was none of his business, that you’d been helping out, but he—”

“You told him off?” The faint smile is replaced with a full wattage grin, as he cuts me off mid-sentence. The effect is stunning. The normally taciturn face is completely lit up. The deep grooves and stern wrinkles on his face are suddenly transformed into laugh lines, bracketing his eyes and mouth.

“I guess I did...” I mutter, almost shell-shocked.

“Bet he didn’t like that much.”

“Ha!” I bark out a fake laugh. “Not exactly. He mentioned how easy he imagined it would be for someone like me to fall victim to your prowess with the opposite sex.”

It doesn’t matter that the guy was an ass—is an ass—and I should know better than to let it bother me, but the words still left a sting.

“He’s an idiot.” Roar’s deep rumble draws my attention.

His eyes, now deadly serious, lock in with mine and when he says nothing else, just stares at me, I can’t help but squirm under the scrutiny.

“But what about...”

“An idiot,” he repeats sternly. “He doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground. Ignore the fucking weasel.”

With one last pointed look, he grabs some tools from his box and disappears into the bathroom. I’m left to stare after him, no wiser than I was before.

Roar

The temptation is great to get in my truck, find that piece of shit, and reacquaint him with my fists. It wouldn’t be the first time I laid him out. We go way back, fucking Kyle Thompson and I.

We’d been high school buddies, in love with the same girl: Jenny Braxton. I’d been the lucky one to end up with her and married her after I returned from my first deployment. But then I left for a second, and then a third round, during which time Kyle never let up on his relentless pursuit of my wife. Jenny had just found out she was pregnant when I left for Afghanistan that last time, but two months into my tour, she lost the baby. Like a goddamn leech, Kyle latched onto her pain and her loneliness, with me not around to look after her, and she finally took the empty comfort he offered.

Just weeks later I was flown home, injured in an ambush that left my best friend, Tom Jackson, blown to pieces on a dusty road near the Arghandab Dam, north of Kandahar. Jenny was waiting for me at home. She was a mess, and during what was an emotional reunion for a lot of reasons, she confessed to having slept with Kyle.

That had been a hard blow for me, especially on top of the horrors I’d just left behind. We tried. For the better part of a year, we tried. Until I finally lost it on Kyle one day when Jenny and I were out for dinner in town. I’d been successful in mostly avoiding him when he came in, walked past our table, and winked at my wife with a shit-eating grin on his face. Yeah, I lost it. Saw red. I can’t remember much beyond kicking my chair back and tackling him from behind, but the end result was an assault charge for me, and Jenny packing her bags and moving out. I didn’t stop her. I wasn’t the same guy she fell in love with, and the emotional baggage we each toted around was poison to our marriage.

Kyle’s taunting never stopped, though. Not even after Jenny was long gone, living in North Bay with her new husband and kids. He seems to have made it his mission to mess with me at every opportunity. Harassing my new neighbour is simply another way of doing that.

He’s right, though. Leelo is better off not associating with me, because he could make her life very difficult, if he put his mind to it. He’s built a lot of pull in Wawa, and if she wants to make a go of it here, she’ll need the goodwill of the town.

-

I toss my toolbox in the back of my truck and go in search of Leelo to let her know I’m done.

She’s not hard to find, all I have to do is follow my nose right into the large kitchen behind the bar.

“What are you cooking?” I ask her, walking up to where she’s standing at the industrial stove. She throws a glance at me over her shoulder, before focusing her attention back on the pan she’s stirring.

“Risotto. My son’s coming to stay for a few days, and I want to make sure he has something to eat,” she says.

She has a son.

“Is he bringing a bunch of friends?” I ask, looking at the various food containers sitting on the counter. She chuckles, following my gaze.

“Nah. Matt likes his food, though. Growing boy and all that, although I probably shouldn’t say that anymore—he’s almost twenty-one. I just haven’t cooked for him in a while. I guess I missed it.”

I lean my hip against the counter and watch her do her thing. I realize I know nothing about her other than that she’s funny, she rambles when she’s nervous or upset, she’s a nurturer at heart, and she’s got balls bigger than most men I know. Oh, and she has a fucking great smile.

“Only child?” She turns at the sound of my voice and flashes me a small one, shaking her head.

“No. I have a daughter too, Gwen. She’s a few years older and works as an IT consultant for a large firm in Toronto.” I don’t miss the sad look that briefly replaces her earlier smile.

There’s a story there. One I’m surprised to find myself curious about, but that would mean spending more time with her, and I just made up my mind that would not be in her best interest.

“You?” she wants to know, drawing me from my thoughts.

“No kids,” I answer, feeling the brief pang of loss that seems to surface whenever that topic is broached. “Why are you in here and not the house?” I change the subject, looking around the industrial-sized space. “Something wrong with your kitchen?”

“No. There’s just more room here and it gave me a chance to test out the equipment. See if everything is still working, as it should. I actually like cooking in here.”

“You should then,” I suggest, an idea taking form. “In fact, I don’t know what your plans for the bar were, but there’s enough space to turn it into a small restaurant instead. Keep the bar, but focus on food.”

She pulls the pan she was stirring from the burner and turns around to face me.

“You think that’ll work? I mean, I’ve thought about it, but there are quite a few restaurants in...”

“Absolutely,” I interrupt her. “There’s quite a bit of traffic along this road. Not all folks want to go into town for a decent meal. You’d have your own guests and then there’s the folks staying up at the lodge. I’ll do an occasional fish fry, but I don’t offer regular meals.”

She silently walks past me into the bar and stops, looking around. I follow her and step up beside her, noting how the top of her head barely reaches my chin.

“It could work,” she mumbles under her breath as she takes in the space. “A good cleaning, a bit of paint, a few repairs.” She points out a table with a crooked leg. “It wouldn’t take much.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” I agree quietly, looking down at her. The smile she beams up at me is fucking stunning, and it’s all I can do not to take that beautiful mouth with mine.

Instead I take a step away and start moving to the door.

“I’ve gotta head out. Unit two is ready to go. Catch you later.” I quickly pull the door open; intent on escaping before I do something stupid, when she calls after me.

“Wait! How much do I owe you?”

I try waving her off as I walk to my truck, but I can hear the slap of her flip-flops as she follows me.

“Hold on.” She breathes heavy when she catches me, just as I’m getting behind the wheel. “At least let me pay for materials,” she argues. I’m tempted to dismiss her again, when I see the plea in her eyes. This is important to her.

“Okay,” I concede grudgingly. “I’ll total it up and let you know.”

It goes entirely against my grain, but seeing that smile break through on her face again makes it worth it.

“You’re something else, Leelo Talbot,” I mutter as I drive off.