A Curvy Girl for the Cadet: A Perfect Fit Novella (3 page)

Chapter 4

“This place is a mess,” Abraham said as they walked through one of the rental properties Ambrose’s company owned.

The place was trashed. Completely. But it was all a part of being in the property management business. “They’re not getting their security deposit back. That’s for damn sure.”

“Look at all the shit they left behind. Literally.” Abraham shook his head. “That’s dog mess in the sunroom.”

“And we’ll have the pleasure of shoveling it out.” They did a walk-through of the bedrooms. Thankfully there were no holes in the walls or missing fixtures, just junk the tenants had left behind. “You ever think about getting a new job?” he asked Abraham as they entered the last room.

“Ambrose pays us too well for me to think about that. Plus benefits. I would be a fool to leave.”

“What if I told you that I knew of a job where you could make twice as much as you did here?”

Abraham stopped and regarded him suspiciously. “Sounds like a con. You know my father was a police officer and my grandfather a preacher. I don’t do anything that’s not above board.”

“And you think I would?”

“No,” he said without hesitation, “but I don’t know where a couple of army vets can make the kind of money you’re talking about without doing something illegal to get it.”

“I’m talking about going back,” Clayton explained. He hadn’t told anybody yet about his offer. Either of the offers he had received, but he felt like he could share this with Abraham. No one else in his world knew what it was like to be over there.

“Going back where?”

“Afghanistan. I got an offer to train the local security over there. I can bring you over with me. They’ll set us up good.”

“No.” Abraham turned away from him and started examining the items that were left in the room. It was a kid’s room, complete with a bedroom set. “Who leaves all their kid’s stuff behind? Some of this stuff looks brand new.”

“Just no. You don’t want to hear anything else about it?”

“No. I served my country and I’m proud of my service, but I’m not going back there. And when that IED went off and sliced into the femoral artery in your leg, you almost bled out. You almost died. I know because I watched it happen.”

“You saved my life. I owe you.”

“You got me this job.” He sighed, looking frustrated. “But if you want to pay me back you’ll stay your ass here. Your sister is having a baby. Your mother is happy to have you back. Why can’t you just chill for a while?”

“It has been a while. I’ve been home for over a year.”

“And it’s tough. You hit the ground when you hear a car backfire and the Fourth of July always fucks you up because the fireworks make you feel like you’re under attack. And sometimes when you sleep at night you see the faces of the guys who died right before you. It sucks. It fucking sucks, but going back won’t change that. I can’t see how it would.”

He was right. Clayton knew he was right about it all. Especially the nightmares. They had started when he was in the hospital and still sometimes held him tight in their grip. He thought being here would be better, but it wasn’t. At least he would be too preoccupied to think much about it. He would have a purpose. He would be working for something bigger than himself.

“You should talk to somebody, man.”

“I don’t need a shrink.”

“Not a shrink. I go to a group on Sunday nights. Guys just like us. Everybody has got their story. It helps to hear them. You could come with me.”

He wasn’t sure talking to a bunch of men like him would make anything better. He would just have other’s horrifying stories in his head mingling with his own. “I’ll think about it.”

Abraham nodded. “We’re going to have to bring in a Dumpster to clear out all of this stuff. You sure they aren’t coming back?”

“They moved to New Mexico. Said we could toss whatever was left.” He looked around the room again. There was a broken dollhouse in the corner, complete with legless and headless dolls and on the shelf there were books. One set was brand new and still in its unopened box. It seemed like a waste just to throw them out. “Some of this stuff can be donated.”

“Yeah. Let’s clear that stuff out first. Luckily it looks like most of the damage is cosmetic. I’ll pull some guys off the condo project and have them patch up this place.”

*

On his lunch break Clayton drove to his mother’s house to drop off the flowers he had gotten for her that morning.

His neighbor was a florist. He would have never guessed that. The sexy woman who wore tight ripped jeans and a bright pink, body hugging tank top with Jimi Hendrix on it didn’t fit the picture he had in his mind of a florist. He could see her as a bartender. Or a lounge singer. A tattoo artist maybe. But she was a florist who had the most perfect name for her job.

He always thought she was wildly beautiful, but today he got to see her up close, he got to study her while she worked. He got to hear that low husky voice when she spoke. She turned him on.

Just by looking him in the eye and speaking to him.

Abraham was right. It must have been too long since he had been with a woman. He was incredibly attracted to the last woman on earth he should be. She had a kid. He steered clear of single mothers. There was usually an ex lurking around and a kid who didn’t want anyone replacing their father. But not only that, Daisy lived next door to him. He wasn’t looking for attachments. Nothing long term. Messing with his neighbor was a bad idea. He couldn’t avoid her after it was over.

He was going to have to keep his distance. Admire the sexy florist with the husky voice from afar.

Maybe he would go with Abraham to a bar this week. It might be good to work some of this tension off.

He pulled into his mother’s condo complex. It was still odd for him to visit her here, even though she had been living here for five years. His father kept the house when his mother left and now he lived in Clayton’s childhood home alone. Sometimes having his girlfriend stay over in the room he had shared with his wife for twenty years.

It pissed him off. But he wasn’t sure why it did. His mother had wanted to leave, in fact Clayton insisted that she did, but just going back there and seeing another woman there with pictures of his father and her on the wall instead of the family that have lived there, didn’t sit right with him.

His parents were better off divorced. They were friends now. His father had gone through counseling. His mother admitted to her faults in their marriage. But he was still pissed. His parents were happy now and he was pissed because they couldn’t get their shit together when he and Maggie were kids.

He had told Maggie not to worry about her marriage, about being a good mother to her children, because without a doubt he knew she would be, but he knew how fucked up things were when they were growing up.

And he worried too, wondering if one day he could be a good father, a good husband, because he wasn’t sure what those things looked like.

He got out of his truck, flowers in hand. The door opened before he even had the chance to knock, and his mother’s boyfriend was there with a huge smile on his face and pig printed apron on his body. Despite everything Clayton really liked Gordon. He owned his own butcher shop and gave big slabs of beef as presents.

“Hello, Clay! You’re just in time. I got a great cut of baby back ribs at the shop and I just couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into them. So I let my nephew run the shop for the rest of the day and here I am.”

“I guess that explains why I smell barbeque sauce.”

“Good stuff too. Make it myself down at the shop. I’ve got some cheesy jalapeño garlic bread in the oven and some of my famous bacon baked beans cooking away. I hope you’re hungry. Betty!” He called to Clayton’s mother. “I was right. Your boy is here.”

“My boy!” His mother came out of the kitchen with a dish towel in her hands. “Gordon said he thought he heard your truck. Can’t miss that great big noisy thing, but I didn’t believe him because you were just here with your sister last night and I didn’t think it possible for you to bless me with two visits in less than twenty-four hours, but you’re here.” She kissed both his cheeks. “What are those?”

She looked at the flowers in his hand.

“I’m replacing the flowers that Alex got for you that Maggie was supposed to give to you.”

“That silly girl.” His mother grinned. “All last night she kept saying there was something she was supposed to tell me, but she couldn’t remember what it was. Her brain has turned to mush. I was like that with you, sweetheart.” She patted his cheek. “You made me dumber than a doorknob. Your father thought it was the cutest thing. One time he laughed so hard he snorted coffee right out of his nose when I called the phone a call-y thing because I couldn’t remember the name for it.”

“That’s hard to imagine,” he said. There had been no laughter in their house. No lighthearted moments. It was hard for him to imagine his father that way. He was a much different man than he used to be. A more understanding, kinder man. But it was hard for Clayton to wrap his head around. It was like an imposter was invading his body.

He felt his mother’s hand slide up his cheek. “We were very happy once. You and your sister were made with love.”

But they weren’t raised in it.

“I just came to give you these, Mom. I’m going to head back to work.”

“But we have all this food! You’ll stay.” She shook her head. “You’ll stay and you’ll eat.”

  “I’ll go check on things,” Gordon said, heading to the kitchen. “I’ll give a shout when everything is done.”

That left Clay and his mother alone. He didn’t spend much time alone with her, preferring to have Maggie there as a buffer. But there were times when it couldn’t be avoided. “How are you, honey?”

“I’m fine, Mom. Same as yesterday.”

“Maybe.” She stroked his beard. “You might be the same as you were yesterday, but you aren’t the same boy you were before you left for war. You were my little daredevil. My risk taker. You were always full of excitement. Full of life. Now I barely recognize you with all this hair you have covering your face.”

“I grew up, Mom. And if war doesn’t change you I don’t know what does.”

She nodded. “I want you to be happy, Clay. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

“I know.” He stepped away from her. “The food smells good.”

*

“I don’t know why Loretta gave me such a hard time about our dinner tonight,” Daisy said later that evening as she was slicing a red pepper. “There’s nothing weird about this recipe.”

“Uh huh,” Aubrey replied from the table.

“It’s chicken, celery, and cream of mushroom soup. If that’s not all American, I don’t know what is. Am I right?”

“Yes,” she said absently.

“She could have eaten this. I know it’s no beef Braciole, but it isn’t anything gross either.”

“Right.”

Daisy looked up from her cutting to see that Aubrey wasn’t paying attention to her at all. She was too busy studying a set of books that Daisy had never seen before. “Hey, Cookie. I know this conversation may not be riveting, but you could give a little more effort. You’re supposed to be helping me cook.”

“I’m sorry, Mama. I was just looking at my new books.”

“New books?” She put down her knife and walked over to Aubrey. There were three brand new hardcover books on the table sitting next to a beautifully designed box.

“It’s
The Wild Moon Gang
series, Mama. You told me we were going to go to the bookstore this weekend, so that I could get one, but now we don’t have to.”

“Where did you get them from?”

“Mr. Calhoun. He just gave them to me a little while ago.”

“He did? How did he know you wanted them? Did you talk to him about them?”

“No. We don’t talk.”

“Did he say anything to you when he gave them to you?”

“He doesn’t say anything to me, Mama. He just gave them to me and went in his house.”

First the flower and now the books. Daisy bit her lip. Her sister left explicit instructions about what she wanted for her child. She wanted her to take music lessons, and speak a foreign language, and go to a good college, but Jane had forgotten one thing.

A manual on how to actually raise a kid.

It was situations like these when Daisy wasn’t sure what to do.

“I think you’re going to have to give them back.”

“What?” She hugged one of the books to her chest. “No, Mama. He gave them to me. He gave me a gift.”

“I know, Cookie. But remember when we talked about taking things from strangers?”

“He’s not a stranger! He’s our neighbor and he’s nice.”

“I’ll buy you the same books. Tomorrow morning. You’ll have them when you get home from school.”

“You’ll make me hurt his feelings, Mama. I don’t want to hurt his feelings. He’s already sad.”

“He’s sad? You think he’s sad?”

“Yes, Mama. Don’t you?”

She hadn’t, but Aubrey was a lot more perceptive than her, a lot more sensitive. She had no father. She lost her mother and Danny who she loved too. Daisy didn’t feel right about her taking a gift from a man she barely knew, but it felt wrong to take something away from her that gave her so much pleasure.