Chapter 17

I guess I was naive to the ways of the grapevine. It began as soon as I pulled my new/old truck into student parking. I was getting looks from all the females, from freshmen to seniors, and guys were coming up to me asking how the game was. I don’t think Paige was insulated from all the comments and innuendo either as each time I saw her in the halls or class, she looked more harried than the last.

It came to a head at lunch. I was sitting on one side of the cafeteria with Gloria, while Paige was on the other side, surrounded by her teammates. All it took to set off the powder keg was a smart-mouthed freshman football player. “So, trouble in paradise? Now that the lovebirds are split, can anyone take a shot at that honey?”

That did it. I grabbed the smarmy snot, lifting him up to my eye level by the front of his shirt. “Don’t you ever disrespect Ms. Goddard like that again in my hearing, understand?”

The kid was terrified. Of course, who wouldn’t be if they had been lifted effortlessly into the air and were currently dangling a few inches off the floor? I put him back down.

“Listen up!” I yelled, hopping up to stand on the bench of a cafeteria table. I pitched my voice so I could be heard over the babble, “I said, listen up! By now, most of you know that I was at the Falcons game yesterday, in the company of Paige Goddard. I’ve heard all kinds of nasty and disgusting things today about both of us. I don’t know what you think you saw on TV, but whatever you want to say, keep it to yourselves. I hear another comment, and that person will be benched,” I tapped my sternum so they would understand. “Spread the word.”

With that, I hopped back down and resumed eating. I was found a little while later by Mrs. Demeter.

“That was quite the speech; maybe you could keep it a little quieter next time. Oh, and lighten up on the freshmen,” she gave me a wink, “they bruise easily.”

My laughter let my friends know that there wasn’t anything to worry about.

Paige caught up with me in the student parking lot as I was leaving. “Thanks for that speech at lunch, it helped.”

I was still pissed at the events of the day, so I unlocked the passenger side door, “Get in.” It wasn’t a request.

“I can’t, I have volleyball practice. I just wanted to thank you.”

“I said, get in. This won’t take long, but I’m not going to yell at you where everyone can hear.”

She was apprehensive, but she got in the truck. I walked around, strapped in and started it up, driving us to the far end of the lot where no one ever parked. I almost broke the steering column as I jammed the shift into P.

“You’re partly to blame for all this. Sure, the TV thing had everyone talking, but you were on your phone for a long time in Atlanta last night, texting up a storm between you and your girlfriends. Don’t you think that one of them might have taken something out of context, or shared it with someone else who wasn’t quite as concerned about protecting your feelings as she was? How many of your friends have boyfriends? I came this close,” I held my fingers a sliver apart, “to laying someone out in PE today. It’s lucky that Mr. Hartwell had us running instead of playing flag football, or some people would have been seriously hurt. And that was after I gave my speech.”

I slammed my hands into the steering wheel. “Paige, I can’t figure you out. One minute you’re a mature responsible young woman that’s a blast to be around, and the next you’re some toxic airhead. I’m waiting to see which one is the real you. Until you can figure it out, don’t bother coming ‘round the house.” I didn’t want to look at her, because I knew there would be tears.

The truck started to move again as I shifted into drive. I stopped off at the front entrance to let her out. “Look, I had a lot of fun yesterday. I’ve never been to a live football game, I’ve never been in a Suite like that. I’ve never enjoyed lunch so much. I mainly danced with your mom last night because if I had danced with you, I’d have fallen, hard.” I still couldn’t bear to see her, keeping my eyes fixed firmly ahead. “I hope you figure out which you will finally emerge, because I want to see that fun girl from yesterday again. If she comes back, let me know. For now, please keep your distance.”

She exited, closing the door behind her, but not before I heard a muffled sob. She had volleyball practice and I had to check on the trades at the house. They were working on plumbing and electrical this week.

I made it through the rest of the week without hurting anyone and without interacting with Paige. It was almost like the beginning of school, except that now people could talk to me without the fear that they’d be cut off from school society. This time I heard the questions being asked.

“What’s with Tim and Paige? Do you think they broke up? Do you think they’ll ever get back together?”

The last two almost made me spit my coffee across the lunch table. School gossip had us together as the newest power couple, and our current distance was upsetting the social dynamic. The best was when the rumors started up. Gloria was happy to keep me up to date with the gossip – I had figured out that she was one of the girls in my class who had a crush on me.

“Tim,” she found me at break one day, “you have to hear this. There’s a rumor that you killed a man back in Seattle which is why you had to move to Georgia. They say that’s why you have to leave school every day right when it ends, so you can meet with your parole officer.”

“That’s crazy.”

“They say that you punched him so hard you broke his neck.”

She looked a little unsettled to be sitting there with me.

“Gloria, I’ve never punched anyone hard enough to break their neck. A love tap, maybe. Like I did to your brother.”

She paused, “I don’t know, Tim. Trent was out for two weeks with a bruised sternum.”

“Wait, you don’t seriously believe the rumor, do you?”

“I don’t know, Tim. Could you? Could you actually punch someone so hard you’d break their neck?”

You got me. There was the time I broke a 2x6 and it wasn’t at a knot either. Charlie, one of the guys on Dad’s old crew had done some boxing in the Navy, and he taught me how to throw a punch. He and the other guys were impressed with how big I was at 15, and they challenged me to hit Charlie as hard as I could. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, so I hit a 2x6 on a wall we had just put up. I broke it in half and the kidding stopped. Charlie showed me some more about how to control my punches, but there wasn’t any further teasing.

“I probably could if I wanted, but outside of tapping Trent, I haven’t punched anyone.” I pulled her to me, letting her cuddle a moment. “Gloria, the rumors aren’t true. None of them. So quit gossiping, okay?”

Man I was glad that the week was finally over and I could go back to worrying about the more normal things, like whether the Seahawks would be good enough to go to the Superbowl. Those hated Patriots better not make it back at the same time.

Georgia school districts have a weird schedule. The first week in October was fall break, and I was enjoying myself. The trades were working away, we had buttoned up the exterior and the roof, and it was time for the fun to begin. Dad had some features he only trusted to his old crew, so we flew them out to Macon, putting them up in a hotel for the week. I got the privilege of giving them my truck to use while they were here; it was that or the Tahoe. No way was that bunch getting their hands on my mom’s vehicle!

I ordered up enough sheetrock for the house and the garage, seeing to it that it was delivered before the guys got into town. The boxes of mud were delivered at the same time, so now all I had to do was round up some sets of knives and tubs, hammers, tape measures and pouches and we’d be ready to roll. The plan was to rock the house first, in two man crews. After that we’d tape and mud, sand, mud again, sand a last time, then texture. I had a paint crew on tap for when we finally got to the point where we could finish that.

The problem I was currently having was that no one had sat down and figured out the interior design. Aunt June was typically a big help on that. she had a great eye and a lot of interior designer friends. Now though, I didn’t think we were going to pay her to fly out just to consult with us. Besides, I was sure there were one or two qualified people in the area that could handle the job. Dad had given me carte blanche on it, and I needed to get the colors, patterns and fabrics set.

I mentioned my problem to Grandma one day.

“Well, Tim, I think I may be able to help you out there. I happen to know a woman who used to be the premier interior decorator in the greater Atlanta area. She’s moved on to more varied pursuits, but I think with a little persuading, I could get her to take the job.”

“Great, Grandma, thanks.” I told her what we’d pay for the decorating part of it all.

“Never mind that, you save your money for things you need. It’ll all work out.”

She gave me the name and address of the decorator the next morning before I left, telling me to be there at nine sharp. When I tried to protest that I was needed at the house, Grandma shut me down. “Nine o’clock sharp, do you understand young man?”

I looked at the paper: LM Designs. I recognized that name, but had no idea they were located in the area, or even that they were still doing business after inexplicably disappearing a few years back. They had been big in the high end interior design business. In fact, Dad had tried several times to get them to come and prep one of our houses about five years ago, only to be told they couldn’t work with us. Now, with one phone call, Grandma gets them at no cost, or at least that’s what she had intimated.

I had a bad feeling when, after putting in a couple of hours at the house hanging rock, I left to find the address of the place I was given, the nav system directing me into the Goddard driveway. I had knocked away most of the layers of gypsum dust, and cleaned up at our eye wash station as best I could, but there was still an element of ‘not quite smoothed off around the edges’ to me.

The door chime could barely be heard from the exterior. The door opened less than thirty seconds after I rang, and I was greeted by a housekeeper of some sort.

“Good morning, I have an appointment with LM Designs today. I’m thinking I may have been given the wrong address. I’m sorry, I’ll be on my way.”

“Hold on, young man. You have the right address. Let me see if anyone is available. May I have your name?”

“Tim. Tim McKenzie.”

“Please wait here Mr. McKenzie, and I’ll get Ms. Lily.”

How could I have been so blind? LM Designs. Lily Mercer Designs, Evie’s maiden name according to Dad. There were rumors that LM had exited the design business about three years ago when the principal had to take over her late husband’s businesses to keep them from going under. Oh, crap, no wonder we had a Suite to ourselves. This woman was worth over $200 million and even before taking over for her late husband, had made a name for herself in our business. Double crap. I wondered if Dad knew.

The housekeeper came back. “Ms. Lily will see you now. If you’d follow me please.”

I walked with her through the mansion.

“Say, aren’t you one of the fellows who put up that gazebo?” She pointed out the window at where the gazebo stood just as we had left it. “When are you coming back to finish it?”

That stopped me in my tracks as I looked at the structure she mentioned. Dang it, Grandpa hadn’t followed through! “Excuse me, Ma’am, I need to make a call before I see Ms. Lily. I’ll see myself out.” I retraced my steps and exited the building, walking the few steps over to Dad’s truck and contacting my relative.

The phone rang on the other end. “Hey, Tim. How’d the meeting go?”

“Grandpa, I just got asked by a housekeeper when we were coming back to finish the gazebo. You want to tell me why nothing’s been done on it? You were supposed to have the lattice work put up, the wood stained, and we should have had landscaping put in. Instead, it’s standing there looking like it did the day we went back west.”

“Tim, Tim, cool your jets boy.” He was laughing at me! “I didn’t finish it because the client wouldn’t let me. She said it had to be the two of you, and if the gazebo didn’t get finished for another five years, that was okay with her. Of course, the two of you came here to live after she made that statement, so I don’t know why she hasn’t mentioned it.”

“Grandpa, I don’t care why she hasn’t mentioned it; I want to know why you haven’t. I just went over there to ask for a favor from LM Designs, only to find out that LM was Mrs. Goddard. How in hell am I supposed to feel good about doing that when you tied that gazebo around our necks?” I was mad. I know Grandpa could tell too, because I normally didn’t use that kind of language. “Now, I’m going to call Dad in Chicago and find out what he wants me to do.”

There was a muttered “Crap” on the other end of the line before I disconnected.

I pulled up Dad’s number and got him on the line, “Hey, Dad.”

“Tim, what’s up? We’re a little busy over here, can I call you back?”

“No, you can’t.” Now he knew something had happened. A little busy was his way of telling me he was with clients. “I need to talk to you right now. And don’t take any calls from Grandpa, or Grandma, or Mrs. Goddard before we talk.”

“Let me get out of this meeting.” There were muffled voices and the faint sound of chairs being pushed back from a table. I waited for almost a minute while Dad found somewhere he could talk.

“Tim, I’m back. What’s going on?”

“Dad, I’ve been working on the interior design phase since we’re getting ready to paint and I need colors and all that.”

“Okay, I don’t see a problem there.”

“Wait, you will.” I was pacing around in the Goddard’s driveway, unaware that there were two faces pressed to the windows inside watching me. “I mentioned to Grandma that I needed a designer, and she goes off and makes a phone call, and all of a sudden we have LM Designs willing to work for us, for free if I understand Grandma right, as a favor to her.”

“Dad, do you know where Grandma sent me?” I didn’t wait before answering my own question, “The Goddard’s. And do you know who LM is? Lily Goddard, formerly Mercer.” I took a deep breath, “That, I could deal with and it sure explained a lot, like why she wouldn’t work with us when Mom was still alive.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, Dad. Oh shit. But it gets even better,” I said sarcastically, “I went to her house to speak with her, and their housekeeper asked why we hadn’t finished the gazebo. Grandpa set us up, Dad. I called him just before I talked to you and he said that Mrs. Goddard told him not to do it. So right now it looks like it did when we left.”

“That miserable old man!”

“Yeah, so here I am about to ask for a favor from a woman who hasn’t done this for three years because she left to take over her late husband’s businesses, and I’ve got a half-cocked job staring me in my face as I’m about to meet with her. What do you want me to do?”

“Well, that explains the missed call from your grandfather that I’ve gotten while I’ve been on the phone with you. It also explains Mom calling me and, oh wait, here’s a new one ... Evie.”

I looked toward the house to see the curtains on two different windows shake. “Yeah, I think she’s inside right now, watching me pace around your truck while I talk to you.”

“I’ve had enough of the scheming. Here’s what you do, Tim. The job was for ten thousand on that gazebo. Go back to the house and write a check from the business account reimbursing her for the entire amount.”

“No way, Dad.”

“Tim, it’s just money. It won’t be a problem.”

“It’s not that. There’s no way I’m getting that checkbook. Grandma’s at the house, I am not walking in there until we get this fixed. I’ll write her a check from my personal account.”

Dad broke out laughing, “That’ll show them – my sixteen-year-old son writing a check for ten thousand to cover their schemes. You know Evie will call your grandma, and they’ll both feel bad about it. Fine, do it that way. I’ll get in touch with Pete at the build and let him know that he and the other guys are to go with you to put up the lattice work. They’ll clean up what they’re doing right now, giving you time to grab the trailer, head over to the lumber yard and get the materials. Put the lattice in, call the painters to get everything stained, and get the landscaper in. Tell them all we’ll pay for a rush job if necessary. And, Tim?”

“Yeah, Dad?”

“I don’t want your grandfather anywhere near that Goddard place until we finish this. You understand me?”

“Yeah, Dad, I do.”

“Good. I should be back by the end of this week. Keep up the good work, and thanks for calling. Bye.”

“Bye.” We disconnected. I had the lumber yard on speed dial, so I called them.

“Jerry, Tim McKenzie. Say, I need seven panels of that cedar lattice you have, 10x10. You have that in stock or do I need to find it someplace else? Okay, pull it off their truck if you have to, but I need it today ... an hour ... see you then.”

I made another call. “Pete, did Dad fill you in on what’s going on? ... Well, we have a rush job that takes precedence over our house ... Gazebo ... Yeah, we built it in August and Grandpa was supposed to finish it for us, but he didn’t ... Yeah, oh shit. That’s what Dad said too ... Okay, I’m coming back to the house to get the trailer ... No, go ahead and finish up what you’re working on ... It should be ninety minutes ... Yeah, compressor, nail guns, generator, saw ... No, best if we don’t hook in to the house ... Okay, I’ll see you in a few and then I’ll be back in ninety minutes to pick everyone up ... Thanks.”

I hopped into the truck, leaving the property in a hurry. I didn’t see the drapes jump again, but even if I had, I would have been too mad to think anything of it.

Pete and the guys were cleaning off Dad’s flatbed trailer when I got back to the job. They helped me hook up and we spent five minutes jawing about what a screw up this was. Why did it matter? Well as McKenzie Construction we took pride in finishing on schedule – it had been that way on every job. Now to find out that we had a client who had presumably already paid for all the work to be completed, and here it was, two months later and not finished? That was a pride issue. These men we brought out with us were part of our business culture, and that hit them just as hard.

The lumberyard had everything ready for us, just as Jerry had promised. He let me know that he had pulled half our material off another order that would now be delayed several days. I could only say thanks, determining in that moment to find a more tangible way to express the McKenzie’s gratitude. A good working relationship with these guys goes a long way, as was evidenced by the material on my trailer.

My crew was ready at the house, helping me load everything we’d need to get the lattice work up. After our equipment was on board, so were we and I drove the five minute stretch to the Goddard’s with them following.

“Okay guys, this is on Dad and me. Just remember, these are the clients and we’re going to be polite and professional. Just so you know, this lady is the LM in LM Designs, so let me do the talking.”

Most of this crew had been with us when Dad tried to hire her several years back, so they understood. Play nice, no crude remarks, polite and professional.

“Wait in the truck, I’m going to talk to her and then I’ll get us situated.” I pulled in the drive, stopping just in front of the door.

The bell rang again, “Mr. McKenzie. Ms. Lily explained the mix up with the gazebo. I’ll be happy to show you to her.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not here to see her this time. Could you please let her and the rest of the household know that we’ll be working out back for a few hours today? If the weather holds, we’ll have painters out here in the morning to take care of staining the gazebo. The landscaping should be done by the end of the week. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get my crew started.” I turned to leave, remembering just before I walked out the door that I needed to give her the refund.

I spotted a small table in the entryway, “May I use this?”

There was an, “Of course.”

My checkbook was in my pocket, so it came out and I wrote out a personal check to Evangeline Goddard in the amount of ten thousand dollars. In the memo line I wrote, ‘Refund’. I signed it, pulling the completed check from the book.