can come along if you want.”
He turned his back on his brother and walked away, and after a pause, Graham followed.
“I’m starting my last big campaign push this Friday,” Graham said.
“Good luck with that,” CJ said as he picked up a palm sander and goggles. Artie had told CJ that he could putter around in the back whenever things were slow up front, and CJ was using that freedom to use some of the skills that saw their birth in this very room twenty years earlier. Even so, he wanted anything he made to have some use—preferably by Artie. So he’d decided on a new display unit: a maple cabinet with extendable shelves and a pair of glass doors. He thought it would complement the front counter, and just maybe Artie would see fit to get rid of the scarecrow in order to accommodate it.
“Daniel thought it would be better to wait a few weeks after Sal’s funeral.”
“So as to capitalize on legacy without appearing unseemly,” CJ said. He started to sand one of the shelves he’d cut that morning.
Graham ignored the slight. Raising his voice to carry over the sound of the palm sander, he said, “I’d like you to be there at the press conference.”
“Where?”
“Albany.”
CJ smiled and shook his head. “I have to work.”
At that, the genial look Graham wore disappeared, leaving an irritation that must have been sensed beyond the back room, because Thor chose that moment to come through the door. The dog gave Graham a single look before crossing to his master’s side.
“Yeah, about that,” Graham said. “What are you doing working in a hardware store?”
“A guy’s got to pay the bills somehow,” CJ answered.
He put down the sander and tossed the goggles onto a workbench. He selected a hammer from among the three well-worn specimens hanging on the tool board. All the while, he never looked at Graham but knew the exasperated expression he would be aiming at CJ’s back. But, ever the politician, Graham didn’t answer right away. He took time to compose himself and then sat down on an old desk that Artie kept in the back.
“Look, I’m not going to pretend to understand what’s going on with you—why you’ve turned Sal’s funeral into an opportunity to take a lousy job and live in a lousy apartment. But since you’re here, I thought we could—”
“Use me as political good fortune? Famous writer comes back to small town to support brother’s senate candidacy?”
“I thought we could spend some time together, catch up. It’s been a long time.”
It amazed CJ that Graham seemed able to ignore the elephant in the room. Even during the years when CJ had forced it to a place in his brain where he wasn’t able to constantly access it— when he could carry on as if nothing had happened, even enjoy growing up with the man who now sat near him—not one word had been spoken—not since the night of the shooting, not since the night Graham came to his room.
With that thought, he rooted around the top of the workbench for a container of nails he was sure he’d secured from the front of the store. He pushed aside a handful of tools he’d used through the course of the morning, along with a container of wood glue he’d forgotten to cap, and a T-square that he nudged just hard enough to make tumble to the floor.
“What are you doing?” an irritated Graham asked.
“Looking for a nail.”
As CJ continued his search, his brother released a sharp laugh.
“You mean like the one that holds you to your cross of mediocrity?” Graham asked.
The comment reached CJ just as he found the wood nails hidden behind the router. His hand closed on the container and stayed there, and he didn’t move again until Graham had gone.
Electrical work had never been CJ’s strong suit, even though he’d done a bit of it at his own place. And as far as he knew, it wasn’t one of Dennis’s either. Even so, there was a fair amount of wiring that needed doing before they could insulate and put up the sheetrock. Fortunately, most of it involved replacing existing lines and a few junction boxes. The only major electrical project was installing new appliance hook-ups, and between the two of them and what they were able to find via search engine, CJ was confident they could do it. If Dennis didn’t kill him first.
“The first rule when working with live wires is don’t work with