"How'd it go with the lawyer?"
"Good. She seems really competent. Said she thinks she can probably get the charges reduced or dismissed if we're lucky."
"Oh, that's great, Jay. That's really great news."
"Yeah. She told me to stay completely out of trouble. No drinking, no fighting."
"You can do that."
"I know. I will. How was your day? What happened at work?"
"It was long. Lots of overtime again. The inspection went well though." He yawns. "Frank asked me again about the weekend work for overtime. The Riverside project he mentioned before."
My stomach tightens. "What did you tell him?"
"I told him I'd think about it. I'm not committing to anything yet."
"If you need to work weekends, you should work weekends. The money is good, right?"
"The money doesn't matter if I'm not there when you need me."
"I'll be fine. I can handle it."
"Can you really? It's not worth the overtime pay if it causes you problems with me not being there with you."
The question hangs in the air. I want to say yes immediately. I want to promise him confidently that I can handle a weekend alone. Or even a few if I need to.
But I don't know if that's true.
"Sure, I can. I'm getting better. Every day, I'm getting a little bit better. A little bit stronger."
"I know you are. I can see it. I just worry. I can't help it."
"I know you worry. But you can't put your life on hold for me. You can't turn down good opportunities because you're worried I might struggle. If the overtime is good money, you should take it. I'll manage."
"We'll see. I haven't decided anything yet."
We talk for another half hour about nothing particularly important. Normal things. Easy things. Safe things.
When we hang up, I lie in the dark and think about what he said about the weekend work on the Riverside project.
I told him I'd be fine.
I hope I wasn't lying.
Chapter 41: Ivan
Friday drags on forever. We're behind schedule on the office building. Something about a shipment of conduit that didn't arrive on time, which means we're scrambling to make up lost hours before the next inspection.
Frank asks if anyone can stay late, and I raise my hand. The overtime pay is good. Time and a half after five. We need the money now more than ever, especially after the lawyer's retainer.
But by seven, I'm watching the clock like I can make time move faster through sheer force of will. My whole body aches. My shoulders are tight from pulling cable all day. My hands are sore from gripping tools, blisters forming despite my work gloves. I'm filthy, covered in drywall dust and sweat. But none of that matters. All I can think about is getting in my truck and getting to Jay.
"Collins." Frank appears at my elbow, making me jump. "You can head out. Thanks for staying late. We made good progress."
"Thanks for the hours." I'm already packing up my tools before he's finished speaking. I wave over my shoulder and head for my truck, too impatient to even take off my tool belt.
It'll take me at least two hours to Macon, probably longer with Friday evening traffic.
