Some people hate Mondays. I actually don’t mind them. Fridays are the hardest to get through, because everything is so close, yet so far. Lucas, my oldest brother, calls me a functioning stoner. I’m not. I don’t smoke during the week. I make up for all that non-smoking between Friday and Sunday. He stopped making me piss in a cup when I stopped caring that they came out positive. My dad stopped trying to lecture me, as long as I somewhat function.

Working helps with that—the functioning—more than he probably knows.

On Monday mornings, my dad, Lucas, Brian (Dad’s head foreman, aka Laney’s dad, aka my boss) and Cameron (the Gordon in Preston, Gordon and Sons, who also happens to be an architect) have meetings before the work day begins. Six a.m., they’d sit down together at the diner and talk about the work schedule for the rest of the week. A few weeks ago, Dad asked if I wanted to join them. It may not have been a big deal for him (considering I’m part of the Sons that makes up Preston, Gordon and Sons), but it meant something to me. I don’t allow myself high hopes of taking over his role in the business, and I don’t want it—that’s all Lucas, and that suits everyone. Luke’s got that business sense in him. I don’t know shit. But, I wouldn’t mind taking over Brian’s job when he retires. It’d be tough, being the youngest on the job and expecting the same respect, but honestly, I think I could do it. If Leo hadn’t gone off to college, he would’ve been client relations, for sure. He’s good with people. Shows respect even when respect isn’t earned. I’d both suck and blow at that job. The twins have no plans of joining the family business, and besides, they make more money than I do on YouTube views alone. Punks. Lachlan… I can’t even think of Lachlan beyond his current age. The kid’s growing up way too quick. I wish he’d slow down, stay a kid forever… for everyone’s sake.

“So, we should be finishing up on the site on Fifth tomorrow, which means the Baker site should be ready to go first thing Wednesday,” Dad says, then looks up from his compendium. He should really go digital like I’ve been trying to show him for years, but he’s old-school, and I respect that. “Lucas, can you organize new portables for the Baker site for Tuesday morning, that way Logan can get in and set up all the equipment ready to go for Wednesday.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucas says, typing away on his laptop.

Dad asks me, “You need anything for the setup?”

I sip on my coffee, shake my head. “I got it.”

Lucas looks over his laptop screen at me. “You aren’t taking notes.”

I tap my temple. “Set up computer equipment in portable office on Tuesday. Got it.”

“What about passwords and—”

“Lucas,” Dad interrupts. “If Logan says he’s got it, then he’s got it.” Dad’s the only one who seems to have any faith left in The Family Fuck Up: me. I wonder if it’s a father-son thing. Like, our shared blood is the only reason he still believes in me. But then again, Lucas and I share that blood, and he treats me like a dumbass. Can’t blame him. I am a dumbass. A self-deprecating one, apparently.

The meeting goes on; Cameron giving us timelines for drawings, Dad and Brian talking about the roster.

I pull out my phone, send Aubrey a message:

On the screen, three little dots appear, showing that she’s typing. They disappear. Appear. Over and over. A whole minute passes before I get her response.

I laugh.

“Logan,” Dad says. “Focus, son.”

I shove my phone in my pocket. “Sorry.”

* * *

Halfway through the work day, Dad calls another “managers’ meeting.” Niall, an old-timer on Dad’s crew, finds it necessary to announce everyone’s entrance onto the site by shouting their name three times. Like a warning siren. Only he doesn’t use our real names. Dad is Bossman. Brian is Big Man. Lucas is Junior Boss Man. Laney (when she comes on site) used to be Baby Big Man. That changed when she and Lucas (finally) started going out. Now she’s Junior Boss Lady. Cameron is Suit.

“Suit! Suit! Suit!” Niall shouts. His warnings used to annoy me when I first started. Now, it’s kind of cute. Like, old man cute, you know? I don’t know what he actually does on the job. I haven’t seen him with a tool in his hand yet. I’m pretty sure Dad just keeps him on to help him out. Plus, Mrs. Niall provides lunch for everyone at least three times a week. That’s always a bonus.

Cameron offers Niall a lip tilt, then walks over to me, already loosening his tie. Unless he’s in a meeting or taking measurements or talking to clients on-site, he normally works in his office above Lucy’s bookstore. He meets with clients a lot. I guess that’s why he’s stuck wearing a suit and tie. Sucks for him. “You coming?” he asks.

“Where?”

“To the meeting.”

“It’s a managers’ meeting.”

He’s on his phone before I know what’s happening. “Hey, sir.” He still calls my dad sir. Not Tom, not Dad, not Mr. Preston. Sir. “You want Logan in on this?” I don’t hear Dad’s response, but Cam nods, jerks his head toward Dad’s office. I guess since I’ve started sitting in on the meetings, I’m now management.

Rad.

I don’t mean to walk with a swagger in my step, my head held high, like I’m fricken royalty, but it feels good. Luke and Brian are already in Dad’s office, leaning against the wall, and another guy sits in the chair opposite Dad, facing him. If they asked me in here to fire someone… but then the guy turns around and it’s Garray, aka Dumb Name, Luke’s best friend.

“What’s up?” he says, standing up to slap my back, kick the back of my knee. He and Luke have been friends since I can remember, so it’s no surprise he treats me like a brother. He does the same for Cameron, minus the kick, then sits back down opposite Dad.

I lean against the now closed door, Cameron next to me. There are too many people in such a small space, and the air already feels thick. I say, “Aren’t you supposed to be in your fifth year of college?”

Dumb Name looks over his shoulder at me. “I deferred.”

“You mean dropped out.”

“Shut up, Logan,” says everyone.

Dumb Name looks to my father. “You heard they closed down the tile plant, right?”

Dad nods. Then his eyes widen. “How’s your mother?”

“That’s actually why I’m here,” Dumb Name says. “Ma—she’s been having a hard time trying to find a job. She’s worked there all her life, and now she’s too under-qualified for anything. So, I deferred,” he says, the final word directed at my smart-ass, “to help her out with the rent and stuff.” I feel like an asshole. “I know it’s not the same as working for you over a few summers, but if you got any positions—”

“Can you start today?” Dad cuts in.

“Yes, sir.”

“And tell your mom to come and see me. I’ll see if I can find anything for her.” In high school, back when I went, I’d hear people talk about my dad a lot. Some would call him the Coach Taylor (of Friday Night Lights fame) of our town: the man with all the answers. I didn’t really understand it until now. Niall should’ve been the first clue.

“I really appreciate it, sir,” Dumb Name responds.

“Kiss-ass,” I say, because it’s expected of me.

“Shut up, Logan,” says everyone. Again.

Dad sighs, tells Dumb Name while pointing at me, “Say hello to your supervisor.”

I kick off the wall. “Seriously?”

“Dad,” Lucas interjects, using the same tone he’s always used when it comes to decisions about me. Luke thinks he’s my dad—or at the very least—believes he has more power over me, a higher morality. “Do you think that’s the best idea?”

Dad shrugs, asks me, “Do you think you can handle it?”

“Yes, sir.” Now I’m the kiss-ass.

He says to Luke, “If Logan says he can handle it, he can handle it.”

I reach for my phone, send Aubrey a text:

“What kind of cookies?” Cameron asks, reading over my shoulder. “And is that Aubrey?”

“Who’s Aubrey?” Lucas asks. “Is it that girl from the store Leo told us about?”

I open the door. “Get back to work, ya slackers.”