Hudson cocked an eyebrow. Shit, Shaney was rambling. Way to sound intelligent.
Shaney’s mouth dried up at Hudson’s scrutiny. He swallowed hard, but continued. “Anyhow, the problem with many road systems is that they’ve been around since dirt roads and don’t fit the traffic needs anymore. You have to knock some shit down to make way for the new system. This waste pipe here,” Shaney pointed to the white pipe above them. “If you drop this pipe down, you can get your hot water pipe here in two bends instead of four.”
Hudson crinkled his brow, assessing Shaney’s suggestion. What happened next would top Shaney’s list of the best moments of his life, ever.
Hudson’s frowned morphed into a satisfied smile. “Shit, that made total sense and it’ll work. Let’s do it.”
Shaney was sure he beamed like the sun.
Hudson pulled out a tape measure and started measuring for the pipes. After scribbling down the dimensions in his handy little notebook, he pointed at the access door to the crawl space. “We need to cut two pipes and grab some extenders and angles, and we should be out of here in about an hour.”
Shaney rolled onto his stomach and commando crawled out, grateful when he reached the sunshine and fresh air. Hudson rummaged in the back of the truck, pulling out a length of copper pipe. Shaney’s phone vibrated. Why was Todd poking reality into his reality-free bubble? Yanking the phone from his pocket, Shaney answered. “What, Todd?”
“Shaney, it’s Mom.”
Dodged one bullet only to be hit with another. “Hey, Mom. I don’t have much time. I’m at my gig.”
“I didn’t want to say anything in front of Hudson, but should you be doing so much after your accident? I’m afraid you’ll do some permanent damage or something. Did the doctor clear you to go back so soon? Maybe you—”
“Mom.” Shaney rolled his eyes and then realized Hudson was smirking at him. Funny, if it’s not your mom. “I’m fine and any damage has been done. Working isn’t going to make anything worse. I need to get these hours done. I think this is going to work this time.”
Shaney could kick himself for saying that within earshot of Hudson. Maybe Hudson had already decided that this thing wasn’t going to work out.
“Shaney, I’m really glad to hear that, but please be careful. You’re my baby and I worry about you.”
“Mom! Don’t call me that. I’m going to be twenty.” He could feel his ears burning. “I have to go.”
“Don’t forget dinner. I miss you. Love you, honey.”
Shaney felt like such a big heel. “Me, too, Mom. I promise, this weekend.”
Just as he ended the call, his phone rang again. Todd. This time he shut his phone off. He’d see Todd soon enough.
“Your mom?”
Shaney nodded. “Worries too much, and with the shit that happens to me, she probably could win the gold medal in worrying.” Again.
Hudson nodded with a contemplative look as he relentlessly cranked a c-shaped tool around the length of copper pipe he held. Shaney had no clue what the tool was doing, but it had to be doing something useful.
“So, why’re you on probation?” Hudson asked out of the blue.
The dreaded question. “Um, didn’t Mr. Anderson tell you?” Because I’d rather eat that box of nails with a chaser of those screws than tell you.
The pipe Hudson relentlessly worked broke in two. Aha, handy tool. Hudson handed a black sanding pad and the pipe to Shaney who cocked an eyebrow. “Use the sanding pad to knock off the spurs where I cut the pipe. The rough spots need to be smooth.”
“I’ll probably screw it up,” he said and tried to hand them back.
Hudson frowned. “Just sand the pipe. You can’t screw it up.”
“That naïve thinking has brought down bigger men than you.”
Hudson was silent, eyes searching, brain definitely working overtime. “You think you’re that much of a screw up?”
“Not just think; know. I hear it often enough.”
“You’re not listening to the right people.” Hudson continued working another pipe, avoiding Shaney’s eyes.
Did Hudson just say he wasn’t a screw up? Shaney pursed his lips, nodded, and then began sanding. At least he’d avoided the probation talk.
“Mr. Anderson said something about breaking and entering. You don’t seem the type.”
Shit. The man had good focus. “Maybe I totally am the type,” Shaney shot back, and then wondered why he’d want Hudson to think he was a criminal.
Hudson glanced his way for a moment, then picked up another length of pipe and started cutting again. “Okay, so you’re a criminal.” His expressionless face belied the amusement in his eyes.