If I wasn’t driving, I’d have thrown myself out of the vehicle. My mouth dropped open while I searched for something to say.How am I supposed to defend the imaginary friend I’d held on to for longer than I cared to admit?
“In case you haven’t guessed,” I deadpanned, and kicked the truck into the next gear, “I was a strange kid.”
Elizabeth relaxed in my passenger seat, and I savored how different she was outside the office. “I had an imaginary friend too—Noah.” She twisted in her seat to face me, her eyes alight. “I’ll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours.”
A smile I could no longer resist spread across my face. The grief and longing were still there in my chest, but it was hard to sit with it when I could be here instead. Listening to the most beautiful woman in the world tell me wonderful things about herself.
As we reached the project location, heavy fog rolled in, accompanied by a chill. I should have brought a headlamp. I slipped on a jacket and offered Elizabeth my spare before gearing up.
Seeing her in my clothing was a level of torture I apparently enjoyed.
“Thank you.” She zipped up and folded the long sleeves, freeing her hands.
Maybe it will smell like cinnamon when she returns it?
“No problem.” I cleared my throat and focused on the task ahead.
Walking through the site, I gave her a quick rundown on what was happening and introduced her to everyone along the way. As I imagined, even with Elizabeth’s hard hat, the reflective vest, the oversized jacket, and the ugly shoes, they all did a double take. Because it was hard not to with those eyes and her smile that gave flight to butterflies.
“When will this pipe be placed?” I asked the construction manager while peeking into one of the deep trenches.
“First thing tomorrow morning. There’s been a bit of unexpected drizzle, hence the mud.”
I nodded. “Manhole locations?”
He gestured for me to follow him. Behind me, Elizabeth appeared completely enthralled with what someone else was showing her.
I opened a set of drawings and reminded myself of what we’d recommended here for the layerworks. That would happen next week when we were placed here and could supervise.
We.Me and Elizabeth. Elizabeth and I. Placed here. Together. At the same time.
I searched for her through the dense fog and found her about fifty yards away chatting with one of the other workers. She waved, and I gestured for her to join me.
On her left, one of the construction vehicles revved up. Elizabeth flinched. As quick as a flash, her foot slipped and her eyes widened. She screamed at the same time as I instinctively leaped toward her. But it was too late. She disappeared into the trench dividing us.
With a deafening ringing in my ears, I jumped in.
Elizabeth was on her backside in the mud. “Don’t come in here, you’ll get all muddy!”
I kneeled beside her. I didn’t care about the mess. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, but her eyes welled up.
“Are you hurt?” I gripped her shoulders and slid my palms across her arms, tempted to investigate every part of her.
She choked out, “I’m… I’m sorry. I wasn’t concentrating, and my foot slipped on the edge, and now I messed up.” She gestured at the curbs that had fallen along with her.
“Don’t apologize,” I bit out, and cupped her face. I couldn’t stop myself. I tilted her chin upward, an ache ripping through me at the sight of her tears. “That doesn’t matter. You matter. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Her mouth turned downward, and she nodded. “I’m okay. I’m sorry for crying. I’m having a weird day. Family stuff. Work stress. I got my period, and I’m not prepared. I didn’t mean to cause trouble on my first day on-site, and I can’t lose this job and… your mom is really nice and I miss my mom… I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this. Oh, and my ankle is kind of hurting.” She flinched as she tried pushing herself upward.
Her lip trembled, and without any input from my brain, my arms scooped her up. My left hand slid under her knees, and my right arm cradled her back.
“What are you doing?” she said, but a laugh and one of those small smiles followed.
That’s how I knew I was doing the right thing.
“Getting us out of here.” I trudged through the mud to the shallowest side of the hole before climbing out.
