She got to work, and he watched.
“What you doing over there?”
“Ro.” She looked up. “Trust me and eat your tacos.”
He ate his tacos.
She found who she was looking for in ninety seconds flat. “Brooks.”
“Damn.” He sat forward. “I forgot about his connections.”
“His whole career is city contracts and public funding navigation. He’s been in rooms with half the council for fifteen years. He and Taylor just got back from Cabo, so he’s free.” She was already typing. “I’m texting Taylor right now.” Her phonebuzzed back almost immediately. “She said call him or swing through later, he’ll be expecting you.”
“Bet. I appreciate that.”
“I want a raise. Because if Brooks can't figure it out, I’ll have to get my hands dirty. Everyone has secrets.”
“Talking like that, you can have whatever you want.”
She picked up a taco and took a bite, chewing slowly before she smirked at him. “I hate when you spiral, but I love when you feed us, daddy.”
“Ken, chill.” But he was smiling when he said it. “You gon fuck around and stay pregnant.”
She giggled as he stood and helped her up.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” She laughed as he kissed her nose and laughed.
They headed back to the truck. The spiral wasn’t gone; she could still feel it on him, as he drove. She knew where they were going before he turned onto Dempsey Street.
The lot was quiet in the late afternoon, the crew gone for the day, the block settling into its evening sounds around them. He grabbed the hard hats from behind the seat and handed her one.
She put it on.
He looked at her.
“What?” she said.
“Nothing.” But the way his lip slipped between his teeth told a different story.
“Rolani.”
“You look good in a hard hat. That’s all.”
“You are so mannish.” She pushed past him toward the entrance. “Come on.”
Inside, the building smelled like concrete and sawdust. It smelled unfinished. Afternoon light came through the window frames where glass wasn’t in yet, cutting long rectangles across the unfinished floor. She could see the bones of it — where theworkshop would be, where the classroom space opened up, the wide corridor that would eventually have kids moving through it after school, ready to learn something.
He’d been meaning to get out here to sign the beams. The community had already come through, but he’d wanted to do it on his own terms. That was before Kennedi came back. Now his own time and her time had become the same thing, and he was still getting used to how good that felt.
He stopped in front of an unmarked beam in the art room. Stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking at it.
“It’s going to work out,” she said.
“Yeah.” A beat. “I’ve been thinking about what it means if this doesn’t open on time. There are kids already depending on this. Already planning on being here.” He touched the beam. “I don’t want to be another thing that didn’t come through for them.”
“It’s going to open.” Her voice was steady.
“You don’t know that.”
