Brandon

 

A few weeks later.

 

Over the last couple of weeks, things between Juliet and me have been going well. Less like we’re strangers who met on a cliff side, and more like an actual couple. A committed couple at that. We’ve shared a lot of cool, intimate details with each other in these last few weeks. Most notably about families, siblings and having kids.

While I can’t be sure what Juliet wants, she seems fond of the idea of having little ones. I don’t know what it is. Something in the way she talks about being able to look after them, care for them, teach them life skills as much as book knowledge — it’s cute. Adorable in a spunky, older-sister kind of way, except with a more motherly vibe.

Myself, I’m not turned off by the idea of kids. Not necessarily. I just don’t know if I’d be any good at it. A good father, or as emotionally available as I’d want to be. I know that I would hug and kiss and protect any little ones I had, but part of me is afraid that I’ll go into being the tough dad. The traditional disciplinarian, since that’s what I was raised with. A switch or belt across my backside when I didn’t behave, but I know that you don’t “do that” anymore with kids.

Not if you don’t want to be considered abusive, so I don’t know. I am equally terrified by the idea as I am excited about it.

Still though, we don’t talk about it all that much. Just enough to satiate curiosity, though I can’t help thinking there is more to it than that. Though we’ve had sex of few more times in the last couple weeks, and I’ve tried to be more careful with not spilling in her (that time on the breakfast table is inexcusable, no matter the situation), I can’t help but feel this extra weight to everything. This extra bit of static energy or something, when she’s around me. Like there’s something else happening between us, and I’m just not smart enough to figure out what it is.

Either way, I don’t have too much time to sit around and think about it. Worry about what else might be going on between us that I’m not aware of, because over these last few weeks, I’ve started my construction job. Not only started it, but really gotten into a rhythm with it as the on-site manager and lead.

Time flies faster than I thought it would at that job. Maybe because I’m so comfortable with all the guys and few gals I have working for me on various projects. Maybe it’s also because I don’t really have to go “off mountain” for some of those construction oversight jobs, but I feel right at home. Not as challenged or out of my element as I thought I would be.

Of course, I don’t feel great about leaving Juliet by herself. Especially not since I’ve had longer and longer evenings as of late. Some of them have really carried on beyond dinnertime, which is when I usually like to be home.

And, unfortunately for me, tonight is even more of an exception. Which is why I hate having to call her on my cell phone, like I’m doing now, just in the shelter of my truck and the tarp that’s been set up over our work area. While the last three weeks have warmed up some parts of Albuquerque, we’re still getting little cold snaps here and there.

She picks up like clockwork. The way she answers, it’s like she already knows I’m calling with bad news. “Gonna be late again tonight?” she asks me, no longer surprised or irritated by the possibility.

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that, hon,” I say. Furtively, I glance out to the crew, who’s now having to drag out floodlights and other things to work in darkness by. “It’s gonna be a really late night for me tonight. I’m gonna have to stay practically overnight at the site, Juliet.” I pause, hearing the sigh I know she doesn’t want me to hear. Feel the weight of loneliness and boredom that she doesn’t want me to feel but I do. “I’m sorry about it, but there’s no way around it.” I clear my throat, trying to do a mental inventory of what we have in the kitchen and in the fridge. Thank God I went grocery shopping last weekend. That at least means she has something besides canned chili to make herself for meals. “You gonna be okay by yourself at the cabin tonight?”

“I’ll be fine,” she says. I know she’s not really “fine.” I’ve heard that tone in enough females to know that there’s nothing fine about this situation, but we both know I can’t do anything about it, so she’s just telling me what I want to hear.

“Look, I’m really sorry about it, Juliet,” I add. “If I could get away tonight early, I would. But that’s not the way this job’s going.”

“It’s fine, Brandon. It really is. I’ll be okay. I’ll be fine by myself.” Her voice goes quieter. “I was living by myself before you came, remember?”

“I remember,” I mutter, hating myself for leaving her so often at night now.

“Be safe. Be smart,” she says. “You know how your arm acts up when you work it too hard.” She’s never sounded more like a wife than she does now. And I love it. I love being scolded by her like this, even if I know she has every reason to be angry with me.

“I’ll take it easy,” I say, monitoring some of my workers. They’re getting a little rowdy and lazy. Not a good combination at this time of night. “And I’ll make it up to you, Juliet. I promise.”

“Just come home to me in one piece.” That’s all she says. After that, she hangs up, leaving me to work my late-night shift alone.

Still, I can’t help but wonder if she’ll really be all right. If she’ll really handle herself okay all alone at the house.