Ever since his father started paying Adele Dioli, his next-door neighbor, some gentlemanly attention. In fact, since Pop and Mrs. D. had started—as his father called it—‘keeping company,’ he’d been back to his old self.
Carlo Sr. had spent more than a year not operating, in Luca’s opinion, on all cylinders. He’d been missing things in the books, sending out bids that were unsustainably low or bizarrely high and refusing to hear Luca’s concerns, just generally acting out of whack in some ways. Luca and his siblings had spent no small amount of time contemplating what was up.
Turned out, the old man had just been lonely. He’d been a widower for a dozen years, and it had taken its toll. It wasn’t until he’d started feeling guilty, too, though, that he’d gone haywire. Mrs. D. had been after him for years, since her husband had died. Carlo Sr. hadn’t paid her much mind. And then he had. And Luca guessed he’d had to make some things right in his head and his heart before he could move on.
At the same time, Luca’s brother, Carlo Jr., had moved back in with his son, and then he’d gotten remarried, and the house they’d all grown up in was full of family again.
And now their father was calm, happy, and focused—and rolling into work half an hour later than his years-long habit, and whistling operatic arias, and just in general behaving like a very odd, love-struck teenager.
They were maxed out at the moment, all crews working full time, two crews doing overtime, so they weren’t preparing new bids, and they didn’t have any pending. There were a couple on the horizon, and Luca checked his email to see if there were any new details. As he did, crew leaders started coming in to pick up their paperwork and check in for any new instructions.
Luca had been his father’s chief crew supervisor for seven years. He’d been more than that, really, working at Carlo Sr.’s right hand, preparing bids, doing the research, learning the new tech that his father was too impatient to bother with. Carlo Sr. was moving into his mid-sixties, and he was going to have to decide soon how the company would continue after his retirement. Luca wanted the damn company. But he had no sense of security that he’d get it. Carlo Sr. had intended to hand the reins to his eldest son, Carlo Jr. But Carlo hadn’t wanted it. He’d chased his own dream and was now an architect.
It had broken their father’s heart.
Luca and his father didn’t always get along so well. They worked well together, but Carlo Sr. was disappointed in Luca for a wide range of reasons. He wasn’t serious enough. He refused to settle down. He fought too much. He spoke his mind too freely.
And, quite simply, he wasn’t the firstborn son.
Not much he could do about that one.
By the time his father came into the office, Luca had sent off all the crews and plotted out his morning. He spent most of most days driving from job site to job site, checking progress and making sure no corners were being cut. They ran a tight ship, with full-time employees rather than day labor, and they had the reputation such care engendered. But every now and then, somebody would get behind on something, feel the crunch, and get tempted to do things the easy way. Knowing that a boss was going to show up at some point at least once a day kept everybody honest.
Luca also filled in on shorthanded crews, when the need arose. Today, though, they had a full house. So he’d spend his day in his H3.
With a long break around lunchtime, if he could get in with Heather.
“Hey, Pop. You good this morning?”
“Son. Yeah. I’m good.” He noticed Luca’s bandaged hand immediately and sent him a censorious look. “You? Looks like you had a night.”
“Just defending a lady’s honor. No sweat.” He hitched up his right shoulder. “Got a knot in my defending arm, though, so I’m gonna take a long lunch today, see if I can’t get a massage and get it worked out. Okay with you?”
“Crews full?”
“Yes, sir. John’s on point on Carrick Lane. I moved Digger to Westerly Road. I think John’s solid enough now he doesn’t need a shadow.” John was one of Luca’s younger brothers. At thirty-one, he’d been on a crew for more than ten years. This was his first time in charge of one, though. John was a bit of a dreamer. He was an excellent finish carpenter, but not necessarily a leader. They’d had one of their veteran foremen working with him, but it was expensive to keep two leads on one site, and Carrick was a small job. Luca would check in on that site a couple of times, make sure all was well.
Carlo Sr. nodded. “I think you’re right.”