I hit the button to disconnect but I didn’t wait that first beat as my thumb moved on the screen to find Bianca’s number.
Get all the shit out of the way and move on.
Dad hadn’t taught me that, Mr. T had (though, he didn’t use the word “shit” since he never cursed).
I hit go and there was no ringing.
Bianca’s phone was obviously off. It went right to voicemail.
So I went right to leaving the message.
“Right, so I was freaked, I couldn’t get hold of you. Then I got more freaked. Then worried. Now, I’m panicked, Anca. Lace is coming out in a few weeks and I’d love for you to come out too so we can be together and you can fill us in on what’s going down with you. Thick and thin. Three Musketeers. You know that, baby, always.” I even heard the edge of alarm in my voice when I finished, “Let me in, Anc. You know you can give anything to me. Anything. I’m here. Always here for you, my beautiful sister. Know it. Anything and always.”
I hit the disconnect and a second later heard the gruff noise of a throat clearing.
My head shot up and I looked to my right to see Deke standing at the side of the deck, at the top of the steps that led down from there, one hand to the railing, eyes to me.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “Thought you heard me comin’.”
I gave a short shake of my head and replied, “Not a problem. Everything okay?”
“Pit’s as done as it needs to get at this juncture, I’m gonna start on the decking. This means I’m gonna be cutting wood and things are gonna get noisy.”
I pushed up to standing. “That’s okay. I’m headed to Gnaw Bone to meet with Mindy anyway.”
He nodded shortly. “Right.”
“Anything I can bring you back?” I asked.
“No,” he answered.
I wanted to push it. Offer to bring him a sandwich. Go to whoever Shambles was and get him a coffee. Maybe tell him I’d bring back a pizza we’d both share while he took a break.
Nothing about him invited anything friendly from me and it wasn’t just that I’d been a bitch earlier, nothing about him had invited that yesterday either.
So I said, “Okay, then. You want my number in case you need to phone me?”
“I need somethin’, I’ll call Max.”
Definitely didn’t want friendly.
“Fine,” I said and it came out more curt (or hurt) than I wanted it to.
He didn’t miss it. Oh no, he didn’t. I knew this with the way his chin jerked slightly to the side and something slid over his features only to vanish before I could read it.
He didn’t want friendly, that was okay. If the ticked-off morning bear I could become didn’t raise her ugly head, he could not want whatever he didn’t want.
I was still going to be friendly.
“You change your mind, I’ll be back in a few hours and happy to pick you up a sandwich or get a pizza,” I offered. “Just call Max and ask for my number.”
He said nothing.
I decided not to roll my eyes or give him a glare.
I just turned on my wellie and walked into my bedroom, calling behind me, “Later, Deke.”
I shut the French door behind me seeing he’d already disappeared.
* * * * *
I sat on my Adirondack chair, bottle of beer resting on the arm, brochures Mindy had given me scattered around, all of them now having Post-it notes sticking out of the tops and sides, but I was scrolling through images on my phone that Dana’s interior designer had sent to me.
Reception out there was spotty, which sucked and made anything loading take forever.
I needed cable and Wi-Fi.
Then again, I needed a lot of things.
“Yo.” I heard and looked right to see Deke standing at the bottom of the stairs.
I was not thrilled to see that after work, sweat making his shirt cling to his chest, flecks of wood sticking to his tee, he looked better than he did fresh and alert and recently caffeinated in the morning.
“Hey,” I greeted.
“Done for the day,” he declared.
Still not friendly.
His call.
“Okay, great, thanks.”
“Be back at seven,” he stated.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Gonna be doin’ the insulation. You might not wanna be around,” he warned.
“Noisy?” I asked.
“That and other things,” he kind of answered.
I nodded. “I’ll make myself scarce. I’ll do whatever for insulation. Nights are getting nippy.”
Deke had no comment.
“Enjoy your evening,” I bid.
He lifted his chin, turned and walked away.
I wondered about my poet’s soul. I was thinking, as I watched him walk away, that it might be faulty, seeing as it was what picked that guy for me.