“Well, I’m off to go check in with Titus and Mariah. See how the babies are doing and if momma needs anything.” She gives me a little wave. “I look forward to meeting the woman who somehow magically managed to make you settle down.”
Fuck. She knows I’m full of shit. Knows this is a lie. Knows there is no magical girlfriend.
And unless I can convince her she’s wrong, I have just succeeded in putting myself directly at the front of her meddlingline. And that can’t happen. I don’t know how much Ruth was trying to get out of me, but I will happily pay it to get off my mother’s radar. I’m not interested in settling down. I don’t want a wife. Don’t want a family. Not for real anyway.
But I will happily pretend I do to protect my peace.
I manage to get my mother out the door, waving at her the same way I did at Ruth as she heads for Titus and Mariah’s. I honestly wouldn’t mind making a visit to my brother's house myself, but I just don’t have time today.
Maybe tomorrow. Get a little baby-holding time in.
Once my mother’s out of sight, I go back to my initial plan, making a beeline for the garage and pointing my truck straight into town. I don’t know exactly where the address Heidi gave me is, and I’d like to do a little groundwork before I make my move. See what I’m working with.
Downtown Willow Bend is small. Quaint. Cute. The buildings are old but well-maintained, and there are always people milling around, visiting the coffee shop and browsing the bookstore. There’s a number of little eateries, and various privately owned shops, along with a florist, and a salon. It was the perfect sort of place to grow up, and I’m excited for my niece and nephew to experience it. I can’t wait to take them to play at Library Park and for ice cream at Bennigan’s.
I pass the collection of multi-story brick buildings, coming out the other side as I make my way to the next town over. I don’t go there much, and as soon as I arrive, I remember why. The place has really become run down over the past decade. The primary source of local jobs—an auto glass plant—caught fire a decade ago, and the company decided it wasn’t worth the cost of rebuilding. They just spread the work that was being done there out across their remaining locations. Strategically, it was probably the right choice from a business perspective, but not everything is about business.
It shouldn’t be anyway.
That’s part of the reason we built McKinley Security Systems where we did. It’s in an area that was becoming depressed, and would benefit from both our tax dollars and our employment opportunities. Plus, on our end, the land itself was half the price it would have been in another area, so we were able to save money, making it a win-win scenario.
But no one is winning in this place. As I move deeper and deeper into a neighborhood filled with aging homes sporting more than a few boarded up windows, I wonder how Ruth ended up here.
And how she ended up on my porch.
Was she one of the people laid off permanently when the auto glass plant closed? Or is this where she grew up and she simply doesn’t want to leave?
Or can’t. Maybe she’s looking for a way out, and decided I might be it. If that is the case, I’ve got good news for her. All she has to do is play pretend for a little while and I’ll give her exactly what she’s looking for.
I reach the address I’m looking for, and take in the building in front of me. It’s actually the worst one I’ve seen so far. Not just aesthetically—even though that leaves a lot to be desired—but structurally. I don’t even need to go inside to know the roof is leaking and there’s water in the basement. There’s foundation and roof issues, windows that let every breeze pass through, and I’m pretty sure the steps leading from one floor to the next aren’t up to code. It’s a hazard. An accident waiting to happen.
And sure as hell not somewhere I would want to be raising my child. But in life, sometimes we have to do what it takes to survive. Even when it’s uncomfortable.
I circle the block, taking the property in from all sides as I try to get an idea of which unit is hers. I’m not quite ready to risk being caught on the premises yet, so getting out to investigate isn’tan option. I can make a guess and narrow it down to one of two third-floor units, but the actual answer depends on which direction the numbers run.
I’m just about to take a turn that will move me away from Ruth’s building, when I notice a guy also looking at the place. I know I don’t really have room to throw stones right now, but it’s fucking weird. Not just the act, but the way he’s going about it. While I slowed down but kept driving, he’s stopped in the middle of the street, practically glaring at the place. Like it offends him.
And maybe it does. He’s wearing a pretty fucking fancy suit and driving the kind of car that says he wants people to know how much money he has.
Which means it’s not nearly as much as he claims.
I’ve met pricks like him plenty of times, and I never miss the opportunity to piss them off. So instead of turning, I stop my truck right in his line of sight, the larger body of my vehicle completely blocking him out.
Rolling down my window, I sling one arm over the edge, giving him the smile that’s helped me coast through life. “You look like you’re from around here.” I lean out a little more. “I’m hoping maybe you can give me some directions.”
As I expected, insinuating this is his neighborhood royally sticks in his craw, and instead of offering me any sort of acknowledgment, he snarls, shifts into drive, and speeds away.
Huh. Not exactly the kind of reaction that makes me feel like he’s less of a creep.
I stay where I’m at for a second, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel as I fight with myself. I’m tempted to park and rip the Band-Aid right off. Go to Ruth’s door and make her an offer she can’t refuse.
But rushing simply because I didn’t like the way some rich asshole looked at her building is probably a little bit of an overreaction. An overreaction that could ruin everything.
And I’ve got no wiggle room on this. Deidre Bradshaw believes I have a girlfriend, and I need to produce one pronto. Producing one who also happens to have an adorable daughter for my mother to dote on is even better, so I’ve got to play my cards right.
Luckily, I’ve got some experience playing cards with pretty women.
4
