Page 4 of More Than A Fixer-Upper (Hope Runs Deep #13)
Chase Keaton
I slam my truck door and stalk toward the bar again. I’m honestly surprised I still have teeth, considering how hard I’ve been grinding them this week. It’s Tuesday, and this is the third damn call I’ve gotten to come to this godforsaken shithole.
My dad, the town drunk, is making a spectacle again. This time it’s over a bet from thirty years ago. Lorraine spots me first and points toward the argument. I nod as she rolls her eyes, saying nothing. She’s used to my dad and his idiotic antics.
Growing up in Durden Park, there are two kinds of people: the wealthy and middle class, and those on the other side of the tracks.
The Keatons live on the wrong side, but some of us have the brains to get the hell out.
I wish I had. I don’t know what kept me here.
I’m not smart like my sister Lacy or athletic like my brother Ward.
They both get scholarships to colleges across the country from Wyoming, no less.
When I’m ten, my mom runs off with a trucker she meets while working the corner for cash.
Kids at school love mocking us for being the children of a prostitute and a mean old drunk.
I drop out of school at fifteen to work making sure my younger siblings have a roof, food, and clothes.
I know they’re going places. I work hard, learn from a local crew, and take online architecture design classes.
Eventually, I buy out the man who takes a chance on me when I know nothing.
He moves south to care for his aging parents.
At thirty-two, becoming the sole owner of Keaton Construction was the best day of my life and that was eight years ago.
I grab my dad by the back of his shirt, yanking him away from his brother. “What the hell?” he stammers, looking up at me. I cringe and step back.
“I can get drunk off your breath. Let’s go. You’re sleeping this off.” Roger tries to push me, but I stand firm, and he falls flat on his ass. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I don’t have time for this,” I mutter. “Move it, old man.” I help him up and shove him gently toward the door.
“That’s right. Always got your kid coming to save you,” Uncle Randy yells. I spin around, point at him, and tell him to knock his crap off just as Ruth his daughter and my cousin walks in.
“Again?” she asks. I nod.
“When are they going to grow up?”
“I’m guessing the second Tuesday of next week.” She chuckles.
“I’m hiding his keys and leaving his car here for a few days.”
“Good idea.” We go our separate ways.
Getting my dad into the truck is a pain in the ass. He fights me every inch. “You’re the reason I’ll never have kids,” I mutter, slamming the door.
After wrestling him into his house, I head back to the job site. My foreman, Seth my best friend since middle school greets me. He never lets anyone talk crap about me when he’s around.
“What was old Roger’s problem this time?”
“A bet from thirty years ago with Uncle Randy. They were both sloshed. Ruth wasn’t thrilled to leave the clinic either.”
“They need to live together,” Seth laughs. I groan.
“You know the cops would take better care of them than you and Ruth ever could. When are Ward and Lacy going to help out?” He looks at me, and I hope my face says, What planet are you from?
“Never. Got it. I don’t know why they live burden free while you’re still picking up the slack. You deserve better.”
It’s the same fight every time I leave work to deal with my dad.
“They don’t give a damn. I told Ward I needed help, but he’s too busy living it up in the majors.
Lacy won’t return my calls. She’ll text occasionally to brag about her job and how she might make partner before forty.
” Ward gets drafted by a team in Arizona.
Lacy becomes a hotshot lawyer in New York City.
“Why do you keep helping your old man? You raised his kids. You put your education on hold until Ward and Lacy were nearly done. It’s time to live for yourself.”
“Can we not do this right now? We’re at work, and I still need to check on the other property I got a call about.”
“Fine,” he huffs.
I walk away, heading into the house we’re remodeling, but stop at the bottom step. Seth joins me.
“I appreciate you always having my back. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
“You beat up my brother on the playground when we were seven and he was nine. He kept picking on me, and you didn’t like it.” Seth grins, mischief in his eyes. “Speaking of asshole brothers, he wants to know if you’re coming to his daughter’s birthday party on Saturday.”
“I’ve never missed one in all twelve years. Why would I start now?” I chuckle and slap him on the back.
I spend the next three hours helping my crew demolish walls and prep for flooring. After that, I head out to meet Mr. Davidson about building a stable at his farmhouse.
Work is great. Seth and his family are better than mine. They make life bearable.
The rest of life? It can kick rocks.