Cracked Foundations

"Good morning," he said as he came up the steps. His t-shirt hugged his body, which was as fit as any I'd ever seen from all the physical work he did. He was bald, but I couldn't imagine him being sexier with hair. I wondered again about the tattoo, but decided to ask him about it another time. No point in being nosy.

"So far it is," I agreed. "The house is still standing."

He smiled. "Were you afraid it wouldn't be?"

"Not exactly, but the things you told me yesterday made me nervous," I admitted. I shifted on the swing to offer him room to sit, but he opted to lean against a column on the porch.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I just wanted to make sure you understood how big of a job this will be. And I want you to be safe."

That was a change, I thought. Someone wanting to take care of me, even in a detached way like that. Wow, what a sap I sounded like to myself.

"Thanks, Stan. Listen, I wanted to apologize again for misunderstanding yesterday. It probably sounded a little egotistical, but I—never mind. I'm sorry." I shook my head so I wouldn't ramble.

"It's all right," he assured me. "When I thought about it later, I realized how it sounded. I didn't mean it, either. Not that you aren't pretty or anything. I mean, you are pretty, but I—" He reddened and I had to laugh.

"How about we forget about that and move on?" I suggested.

"Thank God," he said. "What's all that you're writing down?" He gestured toward the notebook.

"Lists. I always work better with lists, when I see things written down. It makes me feel like things aren't quite as overwhelming if I can get them on paper."

"What's first on the list?" he asked.

I sighed. "Find a place to stay. You're right, I can't stay here. I hardly slept last night because of what you said, and every noise I heard made me think the ceiling was going to fall in."

"Natalie, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, no, it's all right. I was letting my imagination run away with me. I have a feeling you wouldn't have let me stay if you really thought it was going to fall down that fast."

"True," he agreed, and smiled again. I liked his smile.

"Do you know where I could start looking?" I asked. "I have no idea where to look, who's reputable, that sort of thing."

"Actually, I gave this some thought myself, and I have an idea."

"Great. I like ideas."

He chuckled. "I hope you like this one. I have an apartment over my garage, and you're welcome to it. The garage is detached, and the apartment has its own entrance, so you'd have plenty of privacy. It's not huge, but it has a kitchen, a bedroom, everything you need. The garage is empty too, and I don't know how much you have in storage, but you could put some in there if you want."

It sounded to good to be true. "How much rent would you want?"

He shook his head. I was about to protest when he held up a hand. "No, please, hear me out. It's just sitting there, unused, and I had no plans to rent it anyway. The last tenant I had trashed the place, so I decided to stop renting. Now it's for me if I need it, or for guests."

"Still, Stan, you've already offered to lower the price on your work. I can't take this for nothing. I'd be using your electricity, your water, your space." It was so tempting, but I couldn't bring myself to say yes. I didn't want to feel like I was taking advantage of him.

"Look, how about this," he said after a moment. "How about you pay utilities? For the rest of it, we'll figure it out later, after the house is finished. Think of the money you'll save, money you'll need for the repairs, even if you take a loan."

"Yeah, that's on the list, too." I dreaded talking to the bank about that, but it would have to be done.

"Come on, what do you say?" He flashed that smile again.

I laughed. "All right. You've got yourself a tenant."

Next, we moved on to the house and all the work it would need.

"I made some calls yesterday," Stan said, and handed me a list of his own. "These are people I've worked with before, so I can vouch for them. But you should call them yourself, and they'll be happy to give you references. A few of them even said they knew your uncle, and they'd love to work on this house."

"Wow, that's great." People wanting to help me? Strangers? That was an unusual feeling. Knock it off, I admonished myself. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. "Thank you. I wouldn't have known who to call."

"It's a big project," he said, "and I don't mean to overstep, but you looked a little overwhelmed yesterday, so I thought I'd do a little legwork for you."

"I appreciate it, I really do," I told him.

"You have any plans today?" he asked.

"I don't think so, aside from trying to tackle some of this." I stared at my list, which still loomed large despite being written down.

"How about I take you over to see the apartment? You can check it out and if you like it, we'll come back and get your stuff. "

Why not? I thought. What other choice did I have if I wanted to stay in the house? I needed the house, I realized. Somewhere along the line it had become more important to me than I'd known, but I had to do what I could to fix it, and maybe I could sort myself out as well.

I nodded, and went lock up the house—my house.

* * * * *

Stan

As the door swung open, I felt my heart sink. Damn it, Stan, you could have cleaned the place up a bit first, I thought as I felt her looking past my shoulder.

"Well, it’s not the Ritz, hell it’s not even a Motel Eight but—" I began.

"But it’s a place that won’t fall down on my head in the middle of the night," Natalie said with a smile.

She bumped my arm and I let her past me and into the apartment. I watched her give the place a once over. I gave her one at the same time; I mean, fair is fair.

I tried to guess her age, but gave up. Somewhere in her late thirties, or maybe even early forties, same as me. She put on a cheerful front, but seemed to carry stress around with her. I wondered why. I could see the tension in her eyes, but figured a lack of sleep accounted for some of that.

"The kitchen all works," I told her. "The fridge has been unplugged so it may be a bit unpleasant. There’s nothing in it and I did clean it out, but you know. There's a washer and dryer down in the garage, and they worked last I checked. There's the cable hook up." I pointed at the black wire coming out of the wall by the floor. "You should be in range for my wifi. I’ll give you the password so you can get online."

"Bathroom?"

I pointed to the back corner. "It’s a bit small but you have a shower." Walking over, I flipped on the light, but it didn’t come on. Figures, I thought. "I’ll get you a bulb."

"I can get that, Stan. Believe it or not, I can change a light bulb," she said with a laugh.

"I didn’t offer to change it for you, I was just going to get you the bulb." I winked, then opened the door to the fridge and immediately closed it. As the stale odor hit my nose, I looked up and saw her smiling at me. "And some spray cleaner."

She laughed, a pleasant, honest sound I liked to hear.

"So, will it work?" I looked around. "I know it needs a bit of a cleaning, but—"

"I know how to clean," she said. "I spent a few summers as a chambermaid at a motel, so I definitely know cleaning. Also, if you noticed, I just about had my house cleaned up before someone showed up and tracked dirt through it." She gave me a wry grin.

"Yes, I did notice." I returned grin for grin. "You had everything all nice and clean. And soon we’re going to go over and start tearing out the plaster in three rooms."

I laughed at the dirty look she gave me.

* * * * *

All in all it only took about four trips, back and forth, to get her stuff from out the house and into my garage. I had expected there to be more, but then remembered she'd said she had things in storage, and that she'd only been there a little over a week. She hadn't had time to unpack much, which was a blessing for us at the moment.

When we rounded the corner for our last trip to the house, I saw a truck sitting in her driveway. The different types of pipe stuck out the top rack told me it was a plumber’s truck even before I saw the stenciled sign on the side. An older-looking gentleman got out as I pulled in next to him.

"That’s Tom. I went to grade school for a year with one of his sons," she told me. Natalie opened the door of the truck and called his name as she got out.

I watched the plumber as he smiled at Natalie. She gave him a quick hug. When his eyes cut to me the expression changed. Not much, but I saw it; I had expected it. I got out of the truck and walked over to join them.

"I'm glad you could come. Tom, this is Stan Duncan. Stan, this is Tom Marlowe." Natalie moved to his side, her hand on his elbow.

"Nice to meet you." I offered my hand in spite of what I saw in his eyes.

"Likewise." He shook my hand but his tone said he was far from pleased to be meeting me. His hand shake was firm. Almost too firm, as if he was wanting to test my grip. I decided not to play that game, and the moment I turned his hand loose, he looked away from me.

"Girl, what have you done got yourself off into?" Tom asked Natalie.

"A money trap, from the looks of it," she said with a sigh. "Stan looked the place over yesterday. He said the bathtub on the second floor has been leaking, maybe for years. Can you fix it?"

I spoke up before Tom could reply. "More like cut all the water and drain lines to it loose. We're going to have to take the floor out below it."

He gave me a hard look. "You're Mike Duncan's boy, aren’t you?" His eyes and the set of his mouth told me he already knew that answer.

Hearing his opinion of me in the words he left unsaid, I decided that I didn't need to speak to him again. I just nodded. He turned to Natalie; I was clearly dismissed.

"I'll go give it a quick look-see, Natalie. Give me a few minutes and I'll tell you what needs to be done." He left her side at her confused nod and went to his truck. I watched as he grabbed a bucket of tools and walked towards the porch.

"Stan?" Natalie seemed unsure of whether she should invite me along.

Looking at her, I made myself smile a smile I wasn't feeling. My hand slicked down my goatee, then tried to brushed back hair that was long gone.

"I'll see you later tonight," I told her as I fished my keys back out of my pocket.

"Sure." She glanced from me to Tom.

My feet felt like lead weights as I walked around my truck. I could feel her gaze on me. When I cranked the truck I looked up to see that she had moved to Tom's side and was opening the door for him. As he stepped past her, she looked back at me and after a moment's hesitation gave me a wave. Even from a distance, I could see the uncertainty on her face.

After the laughter of the day, the silence on the way home was nearly deafening.

* * * * *

The fire in my barbeque grill had burned down to ash-covered coals that gave almost no heat. The faint smell of hamburgers hung in the air, but the blooming honeysuckle vine in the tree behind me was starting to overpower the smell of cooked meat. Lightning bugs kept me company as I listened to the cicadas singing. Their song was interrupted by the sound of an approaching car, then by the crunch of gravel at the end of my driveway. I had to shut my eyes when the headlights of Natalie's car passed over me as she pulled it to a stop in front of the garage.

I couldn't help but watch the way she moved as she walked towards me. That flash of light had my night vision shot so all I saw was a silhouette. But what a silhouette, all curves and sultry motion.

"A fire? With it this hot?" she asked after a moment of silence. That pause told me she had things she wanted to say but didn't know how to say them. Given she'd spent the afternoon with Tom, I could guess the subject.

"Hot?"

"It's stifling!" She fanned her face. "I'd forgotten how hot it can get here."

"It's not that bad. It's a rather nice spring night." My eyes had begun to readjust so I could make out her features now. The lightning bug blinking beside her looked like it was about to land on her shoulder. "I fixed hamburgers and hot dogs if you're hungry."

"I brought all my food from the house. I'll fix something in a little while," she said. "I'm not all that hungry."

"There's plenty if you change your mind." Leaning back in my chair, I looked back at the soft golden glow from my fire. Even though I had been looking at it for the last hour I still didn't really see it. My mind was too filed with other images. Other thoughts. Old thoughts, from years ago, that Tom the plumber had reawakened.

"Stan?"

Looking up, I saw concern, confusion, hurt feelings and more that I couldn't classify on her beautiful face.

"Tom agreed with you about the floor and the tub. He cut the water lines and disconnected everything in that bathroom. He said it's a wonder the floor hadn't collapsed already." She paused and took a breath. "Stan, he—Tom had some rather strong things to say about you. That you were a runaway when you were a teen. That you really hurt your family. That you only came back home to inherit from your father when he died. He said that your mom died not long after your father. I'm sorry to hear that."

Passing my hand across my head, I nodded. Of course he had told her all of that.

"Yeah, most of that's true." I picked up my glass and took a sip of tea. "I had one of those misspent youths you always hear so much about. Well, I guess if you never did anything wrong when you were young and dumb there wouldn't be anything to look back on and smile about. Like everyone I've got my share of regrets." I cleared my throat and changed the subject. "Can I get you a glass of tea? You looks like you're about to faint away in this dreadful heat."

She shook her head and smiled at the way I had pitched my voice to a much heavier southern twang. Natalie looked at the glass as I lifted it to my mouth to take a sip with longing but shook her head again.

"No, thank you. I need to go get settled in."

"I put clean sheets and towels up there and changed that bulb. I also gave the refrigerator a very thorough cleaning and plugged it in." Sitting back, I rolled the glass across my eyebrows to help kill the slight headache that was starting to build. "If you need anything just let me know."

"Thank you."

I started to look back at the fire, but my eyes were drawn to the curve of her hips as she started to walk away. I quickly looked up when she turned around though. It may have been too dark for her to see where I was looking but at the moment I didn't want to take that chance.

"Stan?"

"Yes, Natalie?"

I saw her eyes moving across my features. I wondered how much of me she could see in the dim light with only the dying glow of the fire and a few flashing bug butts.

"Really, thank you. For all of this."

I smiled, and for the first time in hours felt some of the old depression slip away.

"You’re very welcome. I'm glad I could be of help. Have a good night." I told her. The cicadas had begun to sing again. Their buzzing screech provided a background to everything.

"You too."

* * * * *

The late news had just started when I heard the knock at my back door. My bare feet felt good on the tile floor as I crossed the kitchen to the door. Natalie stood there with her hair in a style I had never seen, straight down to her shoulders. I realized it was damp; she must have had a shower. She smelled of shampoos and soap.

"Hey. Come on in." I held open the door for her. "What's wrong? Trouble sleeping?"

"No. Ah." She bit her lip and looked down before she met my eyes. "Stan, the drain in the shower is stopped up. I got a quick one, but even so, the water was building up around my feet by the time I got out."

"Oh. I'm sorry." I thought back to a year ago but didn't find any memory about that. "Um... it must have stopped up over the last year. I know my last tenant didn't complain about it and he would have. Unless he stuffed something down the drain when I evicted him, that wouldn't surprise me. I'll call a friend of mine in the morning and have him come out here and router out the drain line."

"Sorry to be a bother," she apologized.

"No, no, not at all. I told you, if you have any problems with the apartment just let me know. I promise, I'm a nice landlord." I flashed her a grin.

She smiled and look first down then around the room, anything but meeting my eyes or looking at me. It was then that I realized what the problem was. For the second time in two days I was standing in front of her without a shirt on. Well, this wasn't her front yard, it was my kitchen.

"I don't want to be a burden, you've been so nice already. Oh, who is that?" she asked, nodding at something.

Turning, I saw where Natalie was looking and smiled.

"That's my daughter. Rowena. That was a few years ago, she's fourteen now."

"I didn't know you had any children." Her eyes darted to my ring-less left hand. I noticed they lingered for a second on my chest before coming back to my face. "I take it you're separated?"

"Separated, yeah. Good word for it. Broken asunder would be closer to the truth. Rowena's mom, Shelly, and I divorced about eight years back. That reminds me, I won't be around much this weekend."

"That's all right. I'm going to start working on the finances since I can't do much without that anyway. Tom told me I could apply to the local Historic Society and get a builders loan, so I'll call them first. Well, he said they would loan me half of the estimated cost of the repairs." Natalie's face held a bit of a blush that I wondered about. Was it what I had on? My sweats were not exactly Chippendale pants.

"That's true. Did he mention that they do the estimate? It won't be the one I quoted you. Might be less but every time I've worked with them in the past it's always more. That’s the problem, well one of them, with the Historic Society. They only pay half so to get that amount from them you have to borrow more than you intended." I shrugged. "It's not a bad idea, given your finances. They do a 'Live-in Loan' for homeowners. You don't have to pay it back unless you decide to move out."

"I'm not sure I'll take advantage of that, but I like the option," Natalie said.

"Right, so it's all but free money, except for the fact they then stick their noses in every detail of the rebuild. I've had good and bad experiences with them. Up to you." I chuckled. "It's your ear they'll be pulling about how work is being done, not mine."

"What fun." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, that's all going to take a few days, I'm sure, plus I'm going to get more estimates on things from some of the people you recommended. I can't imagine much getting started until after the weekend."

"You're probably right," I agreed.

We were quiet for a moment, and I thought she would leave, but she said, "So where are you off to tomorrow?" she asked. "Another crumbling house to rebuild?"

I chuckled and shook my head. "No, one remodel at a time is enough. I just have errands to run and two other new jobs to check on. And my ex is bringing my daughter here for the weekend, so I have to be here to meet Rowena. I can come to your place just as soon as I get Shelly to stop telling me what I can and can't do with 'her' daughter's life." I realized I was seconds away from smoothing my goatee and made myself stop. Natalie had seen me do it so much lately she probably thought I had a mustache fetish.

"What does she think you're going to do? Make her run away and join the circus?" Natalie smiled.

"Nah. Rowena's kind of a tomboy, and her mom wants her to be a little princess. Shelly was a cheerleader and the prom queen, and she wants the same thing for 'her' daughter." I smiled at the thought of seeing Rowena. "My little girl won't be here ten minutes before she's ready to work on a car with me or go help me fix something."