Chapter Six
By the time we get to Bluegrass Construction, it's nearly half past eight. When we pull into the graveled lot, I expect to see the area full of people. There are a couple of empty pickup trucks, some machinery, and what appears to be a tarp covered stack of shingles, but no one is moving about.
There is a large white building sitting right in the center of the lot that I assume is the office. Bluegrass Construction is written in bright, bold, blue letters right above the door. It looks more like a double wide than something that was built by Chance. There are two storage sheds to the right of it and a large barn looking building to the back, all of which are painted in the same bright blue.
Chance drives around to the back, coming to a stop in front of a small trailer. It looks nothing at all like the trailer I shared with Mom. This one is covered with white vinyl siding and a black shingled roof with a covered porch big enough to hold a swing. The company name is on a sign located near the far end and again near the roof of the porch.
“Like I said, it’s small,” he says, cutting off the engine and opening his door. “Let’s get your stuff inside.”
This time, I’m out before he can make it around to open my door. I force him to let me help carry the boxes, but he doesn’t seem real happy about it. We place one at a time on the porch, not bothering to carry them inside. By the time we’re halfway done, he shoos me inside by handing me his keys and pointing out the correct one.
“Go on inside and look around,” he says, heading back to the truck. “Turn on the central air and get it cooled off a bit.”
I do as he says without putting up an argument, mostly because I’m excited to see where I’ll be living the next few weeks. As soon as the heat hits me in the face, it nearly takes my breath away. Without paying attention, I look around for the thermostat. When my eyes land on it, I push it down twenty degree and hold my breath until it kicks on.
Finally taking in my surroundings, I can’t believe what I see. By the way he talked, I thought the trailer would be old and tiny. Neither is true. It’s small, but way big enough for me. Other than some scuffs on the muted gray walls, the place is in perfect condition.
The living room and kitchen is one room, only separated by an island. The living room is bare, other than an old plaid couch sitting against the back wall and a TV mounted on the opposite wall. A small table and chairs sits near the only window in the kitchen. Walking past the island, I see a trash can is sitting not far from the fridge. My eyes land on the dishwasher next, and I nearly gasp. I never once lived anywhere that had a dishwasher. Momma always said she didn’t need one when I had two on the ends of my arms.
Chance walks in and places a box on the table. “Did you look around?”
“Just in here,” I reply, attempting to walk past him and grab a box off the porch.
“Hold on there, Gypsy,” he says, gently wrapping his hand around my arm. “Let me show you the place.”
“Everything is back here.” He leads me the few steps past the kitchen table and opens a door. “The bathroom’s here. There’s towels and shit in here, but that’s about it.”
I peek my head in and take a quick look, finding it small but still bigger than the one I had at Rory’s or at my apartment above the flower shop. “It’s nice.”
He chuckles as he taps the top of the washing machine then the dryer, sitting near the open bathroom door. “Both of these should work, but if you have any problem let me know.”
I look to the dryer and nearly let out a sigh. For as long as I can remember, even when I was still in Cedar Springs with Momma, I hung up my clothes to dry. While living in my apartment in Macon, I used to go to the laundry mat and wash my things, then string a line right across my room to let them dry. Since living with Rory, I haven’t had a chance to do laundry, but I planned to do the same thing.
He points to the door on the opposite side of the short hall. “This leads outside, but we didn’t replace the steps when we pulled the trailer back here, so leave it closed unless there’s an emergency.”
I nod and follow him through to the final door. It’s a bedroom, holding a bed and nothing else. In here, it looks like a trailer. The walls are covered in some sort of ocean looking wallpaper, and coarse blue carpeting covers the floor. Still, it’s the first real bedroom I’ve had since leaving my mom’s trailer, so it looks beautiful to me.
“I can’t tell you the last time the sheets have been changed. To be honest, I’d guess it was before Mom retired more than two years ago,” he says, drawing my attention. “Adam and I keep an extra change of clothes in the closet, but you can bring them into the office tomorrow. We can store them in the break room.”
Before I can reply, he is leading me out of the room and back into the living room. There he opens another door and pulls me inside. Where the rest of the place looked like any other trailer, this room was definitely once part of a business. There is a desk by the far wall and two filing cabinets sitting in the corner. Along the back, the closet doors have been taken down and the inside is full of shelves. Boxes and files are scattered all over every available surface, including the floor.
“We still use this room for storage, mostly tax crap and customer files,” he explains before leading me back into the living room. “One of these days, I may have you go through all that shit. I’d like to have everything in the office, so we don’t have to run back and forth every time we need something.”
Looking around, I take in how nice it is once more. To most people, it wouldn’t appear like much. To me, it looks like a palace. Again, the feeling he is treating me like a charity case hits me in the gut.
“I don’t know if I can stay here.” I force out the words, even though I want nothing more than to call this place my own.
He looks around before bringing his eyes to me. “I know this place isn’t much, but it’ll do until you...”
I cut him off before he can say anymore. “It’s not that. I just don’t want to rely on your charity. I’ve always worked for what I have, and that’s not gonna stop now.”
Instead of replying, he walks out to the porch and grabs another box. He mumbles angrily to himself as he carries one after the other in. When he’s finally done, he shuts the door and turns to look at me. He opens his mouth, but shuts it before saying a word.
“I could’ve stayed in Macon. My friends would have given me a place to live, but I need to prove I could make it on my own,” I say, trying to explain how I feel.
“I get that, but you don’t get me. I’m not giving you a damn thing; I’m offering you a job,” he states, walking over and placing a hand against the top of the island. “We paid Stacey four hundred a week flat salary, so that’s what you’ll be making. For as long as you live here, we’ll take out a hundred each week for rent.”
Before I can reply, he starts talking again. “I hope you put off looking for a place for a while to see if you like it here. We have never had any trouble out here, but it’s never good to leave a place like this empty. We have a few pieces of equipment and some expensive supplies around here. It would be good to have someone on site to keep people from thinking that taking our stuff would be an easy way to make a quick buck.”
His words send a wave of relief through me. It feels good to know living here will not be taking a handout. It would actually be doing him and his brother a favor. I lived around my mother and her friends long enough to know a place like this was easy picking. It’s on the outskirts of town and far enough away from neighbors that someone could get in and out without being seen. Me being here won’t necessarily stop anything from happening, but it will make people think twice about trying to steal something.
“A hundred a week sounds good to me,” I say, my lips tipping up in a grin. “I won’t even look for another place. This will suit me just fine till the diner opens again.”
He smiles, pushing away from the island. “Another thing, again it is not charity, but I’ll be giving you a truck to use. Stacey had one when she worked here to run to the bank, haul supplies, grab lunch, and such. Since your car’s down, you can use it to do whatever you need. I only ask that you let Adam or me know if you're gonna take it out of town.”
Something about his tone makes me question him. “Did she take the truck home with her at night?”
“From time to time,” he replies, not quite meeting my eyes.
I cock a brow and ask, “Were those times work related?”
“Yes,” he mumbles then quickly adds, “But, she had a car that ran. You don’t; you need something to get around in.”
I think about it for a second before finally nodding. “I’ll accept, if my car can’t be fixed, but only if you take an extra twenty-five a week out of my paycheck.”
“Ten,” he counters, but gives in when I shake my head. “Fine, but you will use the company card to pay for gas used for anything to do with Bluegrass Construction.”
I nod my head, letting my smile grow. “That sounds fair.”
He smiles, walking over to the door. “I gotta get to work. I was supposed to be on the job site three hours ago.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go to the office today?” I ask, fidgeting with the bottom of my t-shirt.
“Nope, I’ll get Mom in tomorrow to show you the ropes.” He shakes his head, grabbing hold of the door handle. “You can spend the day getting unpacked, but I’ll be back this afternoon and show you around the office.”
Before I can give him my agreement, my phone starts to ring. Chance lifts his chin to me and walks out the door, shutting it behind him. I tug my phone out of my back pocket and see Jarrod’s smiling face flashing across the screen. My stomach drops as thoughts of what I have to tell him run through my mind.
“Hi, honey,” I say, bringing it to my ear.
“Where the hell are you?” he roars, sounding both worried and pissed.
Walking across the room, I sit down on the couch. “What are you talking about? I’m still in Paducah.”
“Rory just called and said he saw your car on the side of the road, but you were nowhere in sight,” he states, his voice shaky. “He went home and checked the apartment, and he said all of your stuff was gone.”
“I moved out,” I whisper, knowing he is going to be pissed.
As he rants and raves, I close my eyes and pray for courage. I really wanted to talk to him face to face, but I don’t have much of a choice right now. I’m going to have to explain why I left Rory’s so suddenly. To do that, I’m going to have to break Jarrod’s heart.
“I have something I have to tell you,” I start, pushing my next words out as quickly as possible. “I met someone that knows Rory, and what I learned was really bad.”
I spend the next fifteen minutes telling him about meeting Chance and how he helped me twice. Then, I tell him everything that Chance told me about Rory and his brother. When he shouts his denials, I listen without saying a word. When he starts to settle down, I answer his questions the best I can.
I explain how Rory has treated me like crap since he left, complaining that I was making too much noise every time I walked across the floor and bitching if I dared to cut on the air conditioner. I describe the way he would be in the garage to question me every time I came down the stairs. I finally tell him how Rory cost me the job at the steak house.
Sounding completely defeated, he lets out a sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s only been a few days; I hoped things would get better with time,” I say, trying to take away his guilt.
“I’ll be down there in an hour or two,” he growls out, switching from hurt to completely pissed. “Have your shit ready to go.”
“No!” I shout, jumping up from the couch. “I think I’m gonna like my new job, and the trailer I’m living in is really nice.”
He goes quiet for a second before finally saying, “Fine, but I’m coming this weekend to check on you. Until then, I want you calling in every night.”
Taking in a relieved breath, I finally ask the question I’ve been wanting to since this conversation started. “What are going to do about Rory?”
“I’m gonna dump his ass,” he says without hesitation. “Before that, I’m gonna go have a talk with my parents. I’m tired of living a lie anyway. This was just the push I needed to start living my life the way I’ve always wanted to.”
A smile spreads across my face as I respond, “Chance is hot, like smoking hot. If his brother looks anything like him, maybe I should arrange for the two of you to meet.”
Jarrod lets out a laugh, a full belly laugh. “I’ll make you a deal. If you give this thing with Chance a go, I’ll let you introduce me to his brother.”
“There’s nothing going on between me and Chance,” I say, losing my smile. “He’s my boss, nothing more.”
“The man bent over backward to get you working in his office and your ass sleeping in that trailer. There may not be anything going on between the two of you right now, but he sure in the hell hopes there will be soon,” Jarrod says with another laugh. “If he’s as hot as you say and as nice as you make him out to be, you’d be stupid to not give the man a chance.”
I was so concerned with him trying to give me charity, I never even considered he wanted me here because he was interested. The thought sends a wave of excitement through me, but it is quickly followed by a trickle of fear. I’m not really scared of men; I got over that with the help of Hank and Jarrod. Still, I’m not sure if I’m ready for anything more than friendship.
“I’m not ready for anything like that,” I say, plopping back down on the couch and laying my head against the cushion. “Maybe I should come home.”
“Fuck,” he mumbles then adds, “now listen to me. You’re young and beautiful. I know some shit happened in the past. Not sure what it was, but I know it was bad.”
“Really bad,” I whisper, feeling tears hit my eyes.
“I’m sure it was terrible, but it’s over now. You gotta move on, girl. You can’t let your past determine your future,” he replies, his voice both firm and gentle. “You need to start living again, Gypsy. Start living for me, Mom, Dad, and Aunt Diane. Hell, do it for yourself, sweetheart.”
I can’t give him the words he needs to hear but I give him the truth. “I’ll try.”