Because of Them (Because of Love #2)

Chapter Five

MICHAEL

“O i Mikey, quit fucking around and bring me the nail gun. We need to get this frame up before the rain.”

Taking a final, long swig of my sports drink, I throw up the finger to Brendan. His eyebrows pinch together in a scowl darker than the clouds rolling over. He slams his finger out towards the truck yelling, “Now.”

Throwing the empty bottle in the rubbish cage, I hold out my palms in defeat. I jump down from where I was seated on the hood of the Ford Ranger and my work boots squelch in the clay that has somehow spilled off the site and onto the newly constructed road.

“Alright, alright.”

I don’t have the energy to deal with Brendan’s bullshit. The bloke gets made site manager for one job and he thinks he is the king. Walking around with his shoulders back like he owns the slab of concrete we are building on today. But I love him anyway, I’d just never tell him that.

After grabbing the gun and a box of nails from the toolbox secured to the tray of the ute, I step onto the concrete slab. Baxter follows close behind me. He likes to pretend he is some big working dog, but the truth is that he’ll find the sunniest spot on the slab and lie down to snooze the whole day through.

It’ll be a big house, this one. Fancy too, from what I could tell from the blueprints. Wide open hallways, more living spaces than bedrooms, and what I’m sure will be a beautiful outdoor living area. But right now, it’s just a slab on a pile of dirt and clay.

With the nail gun in hand, we go about fixing the pieces together like a puzzle. A connects to B, nails where everything joins together, and support posts for each section.

It’s easy, thoughtless work. At least with Brendan calling the shots.

The overcast sky has turned dark by the time we call it a day. The low sun fights to give light, and the air has a wet mossy smell. The ground floor frame is complete, and Brendan pulls out his phone to check the weather radar. I don’t need a fancy image to tell me the rain is coming. Plus, we all know the second story isn’t getting finished today, even if it wasn’t about to pour. We’ve been here since the crack of dawn, and there’s no chance Dad would approve overtime when the job is so far on schedule. Besides, the scaffolding hasn’t been delivered.

“Brendan, we’re done mate. Let’s pack up.” I throw my shoulder against his as I walk past.

He shoves his phone in his pocket and clears his throat.

“Alright boys, let’s pack up,” he calls out.

I ignore the uncomfortable itch that spreads along my back, the one that wants to call him out for following my lead when he is meant to be the one in charge. Never mind the fact he called the shots all day, a grumble rolls through my throat that he took the credit for ending the shift. I don’t want to be the one in charge, but it feels like crap knowing it’s Brendan who is.

We started as apprentices at the same time and have been mates since the very first day we were asked to fetch the left-handed screwdrivers. It’s great that he is stepping up and taking on some responsibility, he should have done it years ago. But I don’t like feeling as though I’m being left behind.

Rolling my shoulders, I pack the tools into the box on my truck. The only person to blame here is me.

I check Baxter’s feet, wiping away as much of the mud and clay from the fur around his paws as I can. Satisfied they are as clean as they are going to get without giving him a bath, I force him into the passenger seat before walking back around the car. I’m about to climb in, drive off without a hint of a goodbye when Brendan slams a palm on the passenger roof. Baxter gives a friendly growl through the half open window, and I jump a little at the clang, searching the sky for hints of thunder before I realise my mate was just being over enthusiastic.

“So, did you see that bird again? The mum?”

I suck in a breath. “No. I mean, yeah but it was terrible.”

“You fucked up?”

“I think.” I gesture to the door, pulling myself into the car and pushing the seat all the way back so I can prop my legs on the dash while we talk. Brendan climbs in the other side, shoving my dog onto my lap.

He’s too big to be a lapdog at the best of times, let alone squished in the front seat of the car, but that has never stopped him before. Baxter’s weight settles on my thighs, his leg resting on my knees. Once he’s comfortable, I turn my attention back to Brendan.

“She didn’t look great. I was worried, but I think I brought it up the wrong way? Maybe? Now I can’t stop thinking about how I should have just said she looked wonderful anyway.”

Although most of me knows that probably wouldn’t have helped. It’s been over a week since I saw Audrey and deep down, I know something is up. She wasn’t just feeling unwell, there was more to it. There had to have been. Otherwise why would she have called and tried to organise the date. I need to get to the bottom of it, but Audrey is back to not returning my calls. There has to be a point where I come at this from a different angle, but I have no idea what that angle is. I have no clue how to make a girl who won’t respond to my texts tell me what’s going on.

My foot wriggles to the beat of the low bass from the radio and my mind races through all the possibilities. Despite my initial freak out, she can’t have caught something. I double checked the date of my test and it was right before we were together, but even so we used a condom every single time. Except for that one time it broke, but she said it didn’t matter. I assumed she meant she was all good too, unless she found out afterwards that she wasn’t. I never thought to ask. And I saw her taking her pill. My mind flicks through our short-lived situation-ship, wondering what could be causing her as much grief and discomfort I saw on her face at the cafe.

Maisie. Shit, I hope it’s not something to do with Maisie. I might have freaked out about the little girl being around, but that certainly doesn’t mean I wanted anything to happen to her. She’s a wonderful little kid, so full of life and laughter.

Audrey and her ex had still been figuring out all the logistics of their joint custody. Could something have happened there?

Pulling out my phone, I pull up the one-sided text message thread. I have to scroll an embarrassing amount to find the last message from Audrey. When I told her the name of the cafe and all she said was ‘see you there’. Since that day it’s been radio silence, again.

“Fuck mate.” Brendan’s voice shocks me out of my self-wallowing. “It’s time to let it go.”

I let out a deep, grumbling sigh. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

I hate acknowledging it. It hurts a muscle I forgot existed, somewhere deep in my chest.

For so long I spent my time playing the field, breaking hearts because I was never ready to settle down. I guess in some bullshit way this is my actions coming back to bite me on the ass. Because the one girl I always wanted to hear back from, won’t return my messages. Or my phone calls. All she does is send back a thumbs up or a ‘ha ha’ against the messages I send.

But from the aching stab in my chest, I can’t help but wonder if Brendan is right. Maybe Audrey and I were never meant to be.

Even still, I fire off another text, because now that the God-awful thought has entered my mind, I can’t shake it loose.

Michael: Just tell me you and Maisie are okay.

Once the message is sent with a whoosh, I throw my phone onto the back seat, desperate to ignore it. Determined not to watch it like a hawk while I wait for a response.

“You’ve gotta pull your head in.”

I turn my attention back to Brendan. Outside the truck, thunder rumbles. The sky is somehow darker than before, lightning crackling in the distance.

“You should get in your car before the storm hits.”

“You should shut the fuck up and listen.” Brendan snaps back. He’s always been like this. The voice of uninvited reason.

“You know your dad wanted you to take on this job, right? He needs you to show some responsibility. And pining over a chick you barely know is not the way to show him you’re on your way to running the business.”

“And I told him I don’t want to run the business.”

He punches me square in the bicep. I barely register his knuckles grazing against the muscles I tense in anticipation. Baxter cocks an ear at the sudden movement, but quickly settles back down when he realises there’s no threat.

“Fuck, do you ever not go to the gym?” Rubbing his hand, he shifts his body to face back out the front of the car. Loaded raindrops start to fall. “Fuck,” he sighs.

“I’m serious.” Reaching up, I pull my hair from the loose bun I had it tied in while we worked. “He has these grand expectations of me, but I’ll never meet them. He needs to stop hoping and praying that I’ll change my mind. I told him I’d consider taking on one job. Not the business.”

“Or, you need to get over this idea that you’re not good enough. So, one job was a disaster. So what? You were fresh into your twenties and your old man was dumb to put that much pressure on you so soon after your apprenticeship finished. I couldn’t have handled it then either. But you’re not that kid anymore. You know what you’re doing. I’ve seen you correct deliveries and boss around the lackeys. You’ve got more skill than any of the rest of us. You just don’t have the confidence.”

I stare out the window, past the heavy rain, to the frame we built today. I barely had to think, following Brendan’s instructions, and I’d never tell a soul, but it was a little boring. I never thought I’d get sick of the simplicity of building a frame, but maybe some tiny part of me is ready to take the next step. It’s scary just thinking about it. Scarier still to think that maybe after all these years, my dad was right.

“You were bored today.” Brendan’s acknowledgement of what was just running through my mind shocks me. “I saw it,” he continues. “You were yawning, checking your phone constantly. You didn’t even laugh when I asked Freddie to grab the left-handed screwdriver.”

“Because that’s a lame joke. It stopped being funny when my dad played it on us. Remember how embarrassed we were when we couldn’t find it?”

“Sure, but Freddie fell for it too. And that is what’s funny. But you were half asleep and didn’t even realise.”

“Okay fine, say I was bored. That doesn’t mean I can run the whole goddamn business. It’s a big jump.”

“He doesn’t want you to run the business right away Mike, he just needs you to take a step.”

Brendan pauses, his hand on the door, ready to make a run for it. “Gym?” he asks.

“Does a bear shit in the woods?”

With a sharp nod, Brendan sucks in as much dry air as he can before running through the rain to his car.

The whole conversation has been too much for me, and I hate the way Brendan has gotten under my skin. Goosebumps erupt down my arms, leaving a crawling feeling in their wake. I don’t want to think about how perfect Audrey is but how it’s probably time to let her go. And I don’t want to think about the next steps I might take towards running the business. Because both those thoughts hurt too fucking much.

I hold them in as I drive to the gym, ready to let them out on the weights.