Page 84
Story: Designed for Disaster
“She was trying to help! And you blew up at her like she’d killed your dog or something.”
I shook my head. This was getting ridiculous. “Okay, maybe I went a little?—”
“A lot!”
“—a lot overboard with what I said.”
Jimmy sneered, crossing his arms. “You think?”
“But what did she expect?”
“What didyouexpect?” he countered. “Why would you just assume she’d tried to sell you out?”
“Because that’s what peopledo,” I argued back. I’d been through this over and over with my parents, my exes… “People are always looking for a way to upgrade or get a payoff or step on some necks to get to whatever it is they want.”
“That’s whatallpeople do?” Jimmy asked.
“Yes!”
“So that’s what I do?” he said. “And Paul? Dominic? Vincent? Aiden? All the guys who are currently sitting in that waiting room to support you? What about Nana Dee, is she always using people?”
I went to respond, only I had nothing to say, the words dying in my throat.
“And, hey, I don’t really remember Papa Davis—but if you’re right, then he must have gone around selling people out, too!”
I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, my chest aching at the memory of Papa Davis. Jimmy kept talking. “But you know that’s a load of bullshit! Of course Papa Davis didn’t do that because he was a good person. Like your friends. Like me…more or less. I guess I’m a pretty useless brother these days, but I’d like to think I’m a good person anyway.”
“You are,” I insisted. “And you’re not useless.”
“Great,” he said. “So we’re agreed that good peopledoexist. People you can trust. People you can love without worrying about getting screwed over by them.”
I grunted, crossing my arms. “You’ve made your point.”
“No I haven’t. Not yet,” he said, getting in my face, looking into my eyes. The anger that had been there moments ago slipped away, replaced by that disappointment I’d seen earlier. “You found one of those good people in Natasha, Trent. And then you threw it all away.”
His words rang true, and I hated it. “So you think I’m a bad person?”
Jimmy stepped away, looking sad. “I don’t think you’re a bad person, Trent. But I do think you’re pretty dumb. You had something great, and you broke it. And now I don’t know if it can ever be fixed.”
26
NATASHA
“Hey, guys! That’s great,” I called. “Just this place over here.” I pointed to Dee’s Jamesport home as the small box truck from Gable’s Moving Company pulled up. The mover who was driving nodded, rolling up his window and parking the truck on the side of the street.
I turned, my breath fogging in the November chill as I stared up at the house. After everything, I couldn’t believe I was standing here.
“I’ll just need your signature,” the driver said, walking around the end of the truck with his clipboard. His partner opened the tailgate, revealing the only thing inside—a midsized, solid oak bookcase with repurposed stained glass doors, adjustable shelves, and brushed brass hardware. It was the first of the three matching pieces I was making for Dee—and the only one I’d finished so far. When I’d heard from Jimmy that she was doing better and had been discharged from the hospital, I thought I’d bring it over as a welcome home present.
I pulled my gloves off and scrawled my name at the bottom of the first page.
“And here,” he said, pointing out a space on the second page. “Last one is the damage clause. We’ll hold off on that one until it’s safely inside.”
“Perfect. I’m gonna go get someone to open the door. Just give me a sec.” I hurried up the drive and the front steps, knocking on the door before I could chicken out. This had all seemed like a grand idea when I’d finished the piece a few days ago, but now that I was standing here, knocking, I wasn’t nearly so certain. But I’d already paid for the movers to deliver and unload the piece, so it was a sort of now-or-never situation.
I knocked again, annoyed with myself for my poor planning when there was no answer. I hadn’t considered that Dee might be out when I arrived, but of course she could have any number of appointments following her stint in the hospital. Or maybe she’d gone for lunch with Trent at the office. I supposed I could have the guys unload the bookcase onto the porch. I’m sure Dee could have some of the Lost Boys pop by to relocate it later. I didn’t love the idea of leaving the case out in the cold, exposed to the elements, but what other choice was there if no one was home to let us in?
“We all good?” one of the movers called up to me.
I shook my head. This was getting ridiculous. “Okay, maybe I went a little?—”
“A lot!”
“—a lot overboard with what I said.”
Jimmy sneered, crossing his arms. “You think?”
“But what did she expect?”
“What didyouexpect?” he countered. “Why would you just assume she’d tried to sell you out?”
“Because that’s what peopledo,” I argued back. I’d been through this over and over with my parents, my exes… “People are always looking for a way to upgrade or get a payoff or step on some necks to get to whatever it is they want.”
“That’s whatallpeople do?” Jimmy asked.
“Yes!”
“So that’s what I do?” he said. “And Paul? Dominic? Vincent? Aiden? All the guys who are currently sitting in that waiting room to support you? What about Nana Dee, is she always using people?”
I went to respond, only I had nothing to say, the words dying in my throat.
“And, hey, I don’t really remember Papa Davis—but if you’re right, then he must have gone around selling people out, too!”
I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, my chest aching at the memory of Papa Davis. Jimmy kept talking. “But you know that’s a load of bullshit! Of course Papa Davis didn’t do that because he was a good person. Like your friends. Like me…more or less. I guess I’m a pretty useless brother these days, but I’d like to think I’m a good person anyway.”
“You are,” I insisted. “And you’re not useless.”
“Great,” he said. “So we’re agreed that good peopledoexist. People you can trust. People you can love without worrying about getting screwed over by them.”
I grunted, crossing my arms. “You’ve made your point.”
“No I haven’t. Not yet,” he said, getting in my face, looking into my eyes. The anger that had been there moments ago slipped away, replaced by that disappointment I’d seen earlier. “You found one of those good people in Natasha, Trent. And then you threw it all away.”
His words rang true, and I hated it. “So you think I’m a bad person?”
Jimmy stepped away, looking sad. “I don’t think you’re a bad person, Trent. But I do think you’re pretty dumb. You had something great, and you broke it. And now I don’t know if it can ever be fixed.”
26
NATASHA
“Hey, guys! That’s great,” I called. “Just this place over here.” I pointed to Dee’s Jamesport home as the small box truck from Gable’s Moving Company pulled up. The mover who was driving nodded, rolling up his window and parking the truck on the side of the street.
I turned, my breath fogging in the November chill as I stared up at the house. After everything, I couldn’t believe I was standing here.
“I’ll just need your signature,” the driver said, walking around the end of the truck with his clipboard. His partner opened the tailgate, revealing the only thing inside—a midsized, solid oak bookcase with repurposed stained glass doors, adjustable shelves, and brushed brass hardware. It was the first of the three matching pieces I was making for Dee—and the only one I’d finished so far. When I’d heard from Jimmy that she was doing better and had been discharged from the hospital, I thought I’d bring it over as a welcome home present.
I pulled my gloves off and scrawled my name at the bottom of the first page.
“And here,” he said, pointing out a space on the second page. “Last one is the damage clause. We’ll hold off on that one until it’s safely inside.”
“Perfect. I’m gonna go get someone to open the door. Just give me a sec.” I hurried up the drive and the front steps, knocking on the door before I could chicken out. This had all seemed like a grand idea when I’d finished the piece a few days ago, but now that I was standing here, knocking, I wasn’t nearly so certain. But I’d already paid for the movers to deliver and unload the piece, so it was a sort of now-or-never situation.
I knocked again, annoyed with myself for my poor planning when there was no answer. I hadn’t considered that Dee might be out when I arrived, but of course she could have any number of appointments following her stint in the hospital. Or maybe she’d gone for lunch with Trent at the office. I supposed I could have the guys unload the bookcase onto the porch. I’m sure Dee could have some of the Lost Boys pop by to relocate it later. I didn’t love the idea of leaving the case out in the cold, exposed to the elements, but what other choice was there if no one was home to let us in?
“We all good?” one of the movers called up to me.
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