“Oh, but it’s not free, right?” D.J. pointed out. “I’m one hundred percent sure you made Dad pay. What about that awning you made him install on the back deck?”
“Ah, maybe so. Well, in your case, I’ll just ask you to move a few boxes or something. When I move out of Treach’s.”
“Ah ha.”
D.J. looked unsure, and despite his grown man size and beard, he looked, to her, not much different than that little boy who picked rocks from the lake shore to hand to her for safekeeping.
“Come on now, your hair is cut, you’re properly caffeinated, and your old mom is here to file things. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Get going, and I’ll be gone before noon.”
“Fine. Fine. I do have to get going. Libby and I are meeting the plumbing guy today. She wants to move a bathroom. I’ve explained to her that it’s insanely expensive, but…”
“There you go, go over to the job site and make your case with her. I still have a key. I’ll lock the trailer when I’m done.”
“Thanks, Mom.” D.J. got up and gave her a famous Tucker Hugger. By any metric, the Tucker men were good at hugging. It was an indisputable fact.
“D.J., are you okay? This is just a little disarray, right?” She looked him in the eye. Were they bloodshot? Did he smell like a stale beer? Or was it only that the trailer was in need of a good cleaning?
“Mom, I’m not going to lie. This is hard. Not having dad here, it’s a lot. But I’m getting the hang of it. Really. I promise. Austin is going to help more, too. So, yeah. I’m okay. Okay?”
“Okay.” Part of her screamed it was not okay. But she didn’t listen to that part. What she did was help. If she stepped back into the life she’d run from, pinch-hit for Dean, it would be okay. D.J. would be okay. She felt bad for ignoring the fact that her kids had to grieve, too. And she’d left them to it. Alone. She would fix this. That was that. She would set D.J. on the right track.
J.J. watched as D.J. left the trailer and walked across the parking lot to Libby’s office. She took a deep breath. He was where he was supposed to be. He just needed help. No one could be expected to handle all Dean handled. Especially not a kid. Well, young adult, but still.
She started with the items that for sure needed the “circular file.” And then moved on to invoices and work orders. She put things in the correct files. She found the box of manila file folders that she’d bought for Dean and started labeling them.
Before long, the trailer was back in some semblance of order. The way Dean used to keep it. This was going to be a big help. D.J. would come back at the end of the day and feel calm. He’d be able to keep up a lot better without the clutter.
After a morning of mothering D.J., J.J. decided she needed to give Austin equal time.
But before she could call him, her phone buzzed.
“Hey, partner, where are you? There are a million boxes here, and your name is on ‘em. Where do you need me to put them all?”
“Stone, honestly, this is clearly a matter for my secretary’s personal assistant.”
“Oh, my bad, I forgot their, her, number.”
“His, it’s a dude, male model, but your call ruined my backswing. I may as well handle it myself. But I need to take care of something first. I’ll be there around two. Try to manage your empire without me until then.”
Somehow, she’d fallen into an easy relationship with her arch-enemy, Stone Sterling. The queen of the townies and the rich out-of-town nepo baby. It was not something she would have foreseen on her bingo card. But it was kind of fun, giving him crap at every turn and getting paid for it.
She’d finish her trailer project, check in on Austin, and then get back to the salon. But she needed to hustle. The day had gotten incredibly crowded.
In an act that can only be described as heroic, J.J. opened the door to the trailer bathroom. If she held her breath, she might survive. The toilet bowl scrubber was where she’d left it, as were the cleaning products. She held her breath and sprayed Mr. Clean on every surface she could find.
She found when cleaning the bathroom of a small boy or a sasquatch-sized man, it was best to spray first, wipe with her eyes crossed so as to not see anything, and then go in again with a clearer eye. That way, anything too disgusting would be mitigated by that first pass.
These were the lessons one learned when living with all men.
That, and that it was possible to train them to put the seat down. Which she had.
J.J. returned to the trailer’s restroom to something less horrifying. While cleaning, she wondered if, in the final analysis, that would go down as her greatest accomplishment.
I raised two sons who don’t leave the seat up. Note to my obituary writer: that’s not nothing.
ChapterSeventeen
Austin was her baby, and as such, she needed zero excuse to see him. No pretense of a haircut. His early school days were hard for him, but never because of his attitude. Austin had trouble reading, but it turned out to be tracking letters across a line that tripped him up. Once that was managed with his IEP, he thrived.
