an estimate ready. She would use this time to figure out her legal rights.
The Tylenol PM worked better than he had imagined they would. He was able to sleep until 6am. It was still early, but he had managed to get in twelve hours anyway. He rolled onto his back and tried to recall the events of the previous day. It all came rushing back to him. He had hoped it was a bad dream, but it wasn’t. He knew the minute he found his phone he’d find that unwanted text message. Well, he wasn’t going to let that ruin what had been an otherwise pretty pleasant start to the New Year. While the other contractors would be scrambling to find work this time of year, he had an entire home remodel to complete. And maybe, just maybe, if he could rebuild that house, he could rebuild his life, too.
Sure, the house wouldn’t be demolished, like the dreams he had for it, but in a way it was better. The house was getting a second chance and he desperately needed that, too. He collected himself and headed to the bathroom to begin the process of starting a new day. He had suppliers to call. He had a crew to round up. They weren’t used to coming back to work so quickly after the holidays. And if he knew them, they were probably still drinking from the holiday. It was easy to get trapped in that cycle when there was nothing better to do. And there was little else in the world as effective at blotting out bad memories and keeping a person from thinking as alcohol.
He smiled as he finished brushing his teeth. It was more than his usual scrub then smile check. This time, the smile was real, brought on by the idea that maybe by the time he had made his phone calls, he’d be hungry. And what better place was there for him to grab breakfast than at Hope House. He would need to catch up with Marti anyway. This was going to be a long project.
It never occurred to him that Marti wouldn’t be at Hope House when he arrived. For some reason, when he searched out the parking lot and realized that, indeed, her vehicle which was nearly impossible to miss was…missing. He stood in the parking lot looking around and scratching his head for a minute before turning and heading up the steps to the front door. Keely was standing there shaking her head at him as he walked into the dining room.
“She was gone when I woke up this morning,” she said. “And before you ask, I don’t know where she went.”
“Who?” Joe asked. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” He tried to walk past her to get his normal seat, but she blocked him with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Let her be,” she said. “I mean it. Marti is a lovely woman. And you know I worship the quicksand you walk on. I think you are just a doll baby,” she took a breath that indicated the conversation was only going to go downhill from there, “But you are horrible with women.” He stared at her ready to dispute her claim. She raised her hand. “Horrible!” She exclaimed. Then she turned to walk away.
He stopped her. “How can you say that? I am great with women. I am a catch. They all love me.”
“Ha!” Keely said loudly, then looked around and lowered her voice when she realized that she might be attracting the wrong kind of attention to their conversation. “You may be a catch…again…your opinion, but you are certainly not luring in the right women.”
“How can you say that?” He asked again.
“Honestly, Joe? Look at all the women you’ve brought here to dump. It has become such a habit that I named it. I call it the Brunch-n-Dump! Look at all the women you’ve had to work so hard to avoid for weeks at a time. Look at your silly rotation of women that keeps you safe and commitment-free.” He opened his mouth to object, but she silenced him. “We could argue about this all day, but let’s just agree to disagree. You need help, Joe.” And with that, she disappeared into the kitchen.
He needed help. He was simmering and stewing as he replayed the conversation over in his head. That was…unfair. That may also be highly accurate, but it was still unfair. And with that, he