Page 70 of Between the Lines

Halle: It’s about freaking time you admit it. Did something happen?

Butterflies swarm my stomach, and I can’t fight back the grin on my face.

Fia: Other than me falling asleep on him last night, or him invading my every thought . . . no. But even IF he felt the same way, I can’t date right now.

Halle: WHAT!

Halle: You can’t just drop that on me with no explanation. I’m hiding in the supply closet right now screaming. I need details . . . and what do you mean you can’t date?

Fia: Look at my track record. I’ve had one boyfriend, and look how that turned out.

Halle: Fia, imagine I’m holding your head in my hands right now. Listen to me. Caden IS NOT BRETT.

I bite my lip, bare foot bouncing on the cool wooden floors. There are empty tubs of ice cream on the counter and Daisy’s medication next to the kitchen sink.

Caden isn’t Brett, she’s right.

My mind knows this, but my heart has yet to get the memo.

29

Caden

“You happy with the work, boss?” Eddie asks, as I follow him through the yellow foyer of Fia’s house, and back outside to the porch. His boots are dusty and baseball cap sweat-stained, but he’s all smiles today because the crew is a few days ahead of schedule. Pretty much unheard of in home repair.

“Yeah, looks great, Fia will be relieved,” I say, running my hand over my jaw. “And the HVAC guy called me this morning, they are delayed, but assured me in a few days they’ll have the new unit in.” I flash Eddie an apologetic look.

“I can drop off some box fans later,” I add as the sun beats down on us on the front porch. However the worn wood is no longer sagging under my weight.

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll survive.” He shrugs, pulling a box of cigarettes from his pocket.

“Thanks for fixing the stairs too,” I say, glancing down at the new pine boards.

Eddie pulls his baseball cap off, laughing as he lights up to smoke.

“You know you’re the only son of a gun who can text me a laundry list of fixes and my crew not fight me about them.”

“Wouldn’t happen to be the extra cash I slid them under the table would it?” I wink and we both laugh.

There’s been things here and there, like askew shutters, porch steps that sag, a squeaky iron gate, things that might be minor issues but I know Fia doesn't have the means or time to do them herself. It took the crew a few hours max, it was a no-brainer to do.

I lean against the porch column, lifting my chin towards Eddie. “You know, I was going to bring the crew coffee this morning, but there’s some festival downtown and it’s slammed—”

Eddie shakes his head, exhaling a plume of smoke. “We don’t want no fancy-ass vanilla coffee.”

“Yeah, yeah, well the offer still stands, old man.”

Eddie pulls his cigarette from his mouth and eyes me. “Speaking of that—heard through the grapevine you won some award.”

I shrug it off, eyes on the yard. “Yeah.”

“That’s good, kid, don’t you yeah me.” He steps forward to pat me on the back. My chest tightens at the gesture.

Eddie's been more supportive than my own father through the years.

“You must be doing something right over there.” He pauses, tapping his ashes into the bush. “Keeping your employees happy or something. I’ll tell you, that’s the number one thing. If I wasn’t too old I’d find another company to work for.”

We hold each other’s gaze. He doesn’t have to say anything else. I know what he’s implying. I know how it is to be under my father’s control.