Antonia came toward me. “How much do I owe you?”
“For what?” I asked as I dropped the tailgate.
“For the supplies? Labor?”
“If you help, not a thing,” I said, winking. It was a lame attempt at flirting, but her cheeks pinked slightly, and that was enough for me.
She laughed lightly. “And if I don’t?”
“Still nothing,” I told her as I pulled a couple of the boards from the back. “I’m not doing this for payment or anything.”
“Then why?”
I nodded toward the house. “Because this town cares about the Vaughns. Because I care.”
Antonia looked over her shoulder, and I tried not to stare but couldn’t help myself. She wore jeans, a collared shirt with a sweater over the top, and, while the ground was soft and in parts muddy, she had on a pair of loafers. Not exactly winter shoes.
She looked back at me and held my gaze. I wanted to ask her out to dinner or tell her I’d bring some steaks over, and I’d grill for her, Miriam, and the kids. Anything so I could spend more time trying to get to know her.
“Well, I feel bad you’re doing this because it’s Saturday and you’ve worked all week. If you need help, let me know. I don’t know squat about construction, but my dad does, and so does my boyfriend. I can call them if you need me to.”
At the mention of a boyfriend, my heart sank. That would be my luck. I finally felt a spark toward someone, and she had a boyfriend.
“I’ll be fine.” I grabbed three boards, lifted them onto my shoulder, and walked toward the house. As I got closer, I changed my frown into a smile for Nova’s sake, because it definitely wasn’t for me.
Chapter 11
Cutter
I lay on the ground, with my basketball under my head. Nothing about this was comfortable, but the aches and pains I had in my neck reminded me that I had the ability to feel something.
Anything.
Beside me, Flinn did the same. Only he used his skateboard to prop up his head.
We’d come to the park first thing this morning. He rebounded for me while I got some shots up, and I took videos of him skateboarding. We were the most unlikely duo, but our friendship worked for us. Neither of us had any expectations of one another. He was my best friend and the only one who knew about my mom.
“What’s gonna happen?”
I lifted one shoulder in a half shrug to his open-ended question. He could’ve been asking about my mom, her death, or our final in our global studies class. It didn’t matter because I didn’t have an answer for either question.
“Where are you going to live?”
“Dunno.”
“Do you think your dad will come back?”
Flinn was the only one who knew about my dad and what a loser he was. None of the guys on the basketball team or baseball team knew about him. When asked, I always said I didn’t have one, which for the most part was true. I let them all believe my mom used a donor or had one of those immaculate conception pregnancies.
Twice.
The truth of the matter was, I did have a dad. Nova did as well. I supposed luck was on our side that we’d had the same “donor.” But that was where I’d run out of luck. I’d had the dubious honor of meeting my father. He’d spent about six weeks of my life living with us, acting like a dad, telling me he loved me, tucking me in at night. The same shit my friends all had when they were growing up. He even tried to tell me I was throwing the ball wrong. It was a damn good thing I didn’t listen to him because he didn’t know shit.
The only thing my dad knew—and he was a master at it—was leaving. His extended stay into our lives ended on a Saturday morning, after breakfast, when he needed to go into town to get a part for his bike. Since he didn’t tell us which town, it would make sense that the one he needed to go to was seven years away.
That was how long he’d been gone.
Or was it eight years now?
