but waited until she’d stepped inside before saying anything.
“G’night, Ellie.”
Chapter 5
“Regret for the past is a waste of spirit.”
—Detective Andy Sipowicz, NYPD Blue
There were few things worse than being idle, and with a four-on, four-off schedule, Brett had plenty of time on his hands, which was why he’d taken on the position as driving instructor. It was also the reason he spent so much time swinging a hammer with Nick.
They’d been friends since the first week Brett started at the detachment. Nick had been hired to build an attached space for Emergency Operations, and as one of the busiest contractors in town, he never refused help, so it was a win-win. Free labor in return for free lessons on how to do things like framing, roofing, and hanging drywall. Or in cases like today, cutting and hanging crown molding.
“Seriously, man, how do you figure that shit out so fast?”
“It’s easy.” Nick pulled the flat pencil from between his teeth and nodded toward the saw he’d set up in the garage of his latest job. “There are only a handful of different cuts, and once you know the spring and wall angles, it’s a simple calculation. We’re working with a forty-five-degree spring angle and the corner there is eighty-eight, so you just—”
“Forget it. You’re holding it backward to start with, so you cut, I’ll hang.”
“Not backward—you’re just gimp-handed.” Chuckling quietly, Nick bent over the length of molding, adjusted its angle against the saw blade, and made the cut.
“Jayne’s having everyone over to meet Ellie’s mom tonight, so I’m bugging out and going to Carter’s for the game. Wanna come?”
“Sure.” Brett carried the strip of molding into the hallway off the garage and secured it just like Nick had shown him. “Have you met her?”
“Ellie’s mom? No, but from what Jayne says, the old lady’s the only person Ellie’s ever backed out of an argument with.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” Nick pulled half a sandwich out of the cooler and talked over his mouthful. “What’s that look mean?”
“Nothing. It didn’t seem like she ‘backs out’ so much as she just knows which battles are worth fighting.”
It took Nick a second to swallow. “How do you know? Have you met the mother?”
“Well, yeah, she was there the other night.”
“What other night? What are you talking about?”
“When I had dinner at Ellie’s.”
As fast as Nick’s jaw dropped, his brow shot up. “You had dinner at Ellie’s? How the hell did that happen?”
“You didn’t hear about it?”
“Uh, no.”
It was no secret Jayne was notoriously tight-lipped around most people, but it was also no secret that she told Nick everything. So if he didn’t know, that meant Jayne didn’t know, which meant Ellie probably didn’t want them to know, and Brett had just royally screwed that up.
Great.
As he told Nick the story, Brett alternated between drinking his coffee and nailing up the rest of the molding, hoping one of the two things would stop the weird twitchiness going on in his gut. Neither did, and all the while Nick just stood there, eating his sandwich and shaking his head.
“So she invited you in for dinner? Ellie?”
“No, her mom did. If Ellie had answered the door, I never would have made it past the porch.”
“That’s true. So you just stayed?”
“Well, yeah—it was one of those things, you know? Ellie didn’t want me there, and I sure as hell didn’t go there expecting to be invited in, but her mom’s one of those people who doesn’t really give you a choice.”
“And now you’re going to help Ellie through the course to get her license back.”
Brett shook his head over his coffee. “I’m not helping her through anything. She has to take the course if she wants her license back, and I’m the only instructor in town.”
“Huh.” Nick grunted as he tossed his sandwich container back in the cooler. “I bet she’s thrilled about that.”
“Yeah, thrilled.” He lifted the finishing gun and shot the final nail in crooked.
“I’ll fix it.” And just like that Nick had the wonky nail out and shot in a replacement, neat and straight. “You okay with her being in your class?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He shrugged when Nick looked doubtful. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know—you just got this weird look when you started talking about it. Like you’re nervous or something.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“You sure? She’s not exactly your number one fan, and that could make things a little—”
“I put in for a transfer.” This probably wasn’t the best time to bring it up, but at least it got