with them?”
“OK.”
“Also, I can’t get the sink working in the kitchen.”
“I’m on it.” Willy stood up and followed him into the house.
Brad crouched by the air mattress, where Julie lay peacefully sleeping. He touched her cheek gently without any response. Taking a long curl, he considered its light brown color, and he pulled the hair from last night out of his pocket. Holding it against her locks, he felt the different textures. Julie’s was soft, the other brittle. While his wife’s hair caught the sun in its blond depths, the red hair was duller. He rubbed the loose hair, feeling it tingle under his fingers. It dissolved into dust as he held it. He stood, brushing off his hands, watching the fine powder fall into the cracks of the weathered floorboards. He touched the cold floor, trying to sweep it up, but found nothing there. Julie stirred, smiled, and stretched until her muscles protested.
“Wow, how did I get here?” She took a deep, satisfying breath.
“How do you feel?” He turned a concerned gaze on her.
She sat up, leaning on her hands, wincing. “Ow. I fell asleep?”
“It was the drugs they gave you. You remember anything?” He studied her face, wondering if she recalled her wild behavior of the night before.
“Nothing after we left the hospital.” Something dropped in the other room, and Julie jumped.
“Willy just got here. You want my phone? You have to call in sick.”
Julie made a face. “I have to talk to you about that. I kind of quit my job yesterday.”
Brad sat on the floor and handed her the sandwich. “What happened?”
“Mr. Wilson. He was…inappropriate.”
“What do you mean, inappropriate?”
Julie shrugged, tears welling in her eyes. “He wanted to…you know.”
“No, I don’t know. What happened, Jules?” Brad said, his voice rising.
“He tried to touch me. He didn’t. Brad, stop.” She pulled him back before he could stand up. “I hit him. It’s over.” She caressed his tense hand.
“I’ll kill him.” Brad’s face looked like stone.
“No, you won’t. I don’t work there anymore. We need the bank. I am not going to say anything; otherwise, he’ll have the bank pull in our credit line.”
“I’ll still kill him.”
Brad stood. Julie stood as well and came up behind him, feeling the intense power in his body.
“No, we are moving on. Now we really have to make this house move. Maybe you’ll reconsider the bed-and-breakfast?” she asked hopefully.
Brad left the room without answering her. He found Willy under the sink, his great arms twisting a wrench.
“I know you’re there. I can hear your heavy breathing.” Willy laughed. “Turn on the water.”
Brad walked over to the sink and turned on the faucet. The pipes gave an agonizing groan, followed by a belch and a brown trickle making its way into the dirty porcelain sink.
“The stove works. Now you have water. I’d say we are halfway there. The fridge is a goner.” Willy hoisted himself up. “What’s going on? I could hear you all the way in here.”
“Julie’s boss got too familiar with her.”
“I never liked that guy. You going to do something?”
Brad looked up at him with a smirk, whispering, “Not right now.”
“She OK?”
“I am fine.” Julie entered, limping slightly, and walked straight into Willy’s warm embrace. “How are Rita and LaMarr?”
“It’s all good. I don’t know, I leave for four days and come back to holy hell.” He noticed a truck pulling into the back. “I think the foundation people are here. I’ll see you later.”
Brad looked at Julie, his hands on his hips.
“I’m crimping your style,” she stated.
“You could say that,” he agreed.
“I can help?” she answered.
“Not with those hands. I’ve got some gloves in the truck. There’s a shitload of stuff in theattic. You can start going through that, as long as your hands are covered. There’s, like, ten decades of junk up there.”
“Yes, sir,
“OK.”
“Also, I can’t get the sink working in the kitchen.”
“I’m on it.” Willy stood up and followed him into the house.
Brad crouched by the air mattress, where Julie lay peacefully sleeping. He touched her cheek gently without any response. Taking a long curl, he considered its light brown color, and he pulled the hair from last night out of his pocket. Holding it against her locks, he felt the different textures. Julie’s was soft, the other brittle. While his wife’s hair caught the sun in its blond depths, the red hair was duller. He rubbed the loose hair, feeling it tingle under his fingers. It dissolved into dust as he held it. He stood, brushing off his hands, watching the fine powder fall into the cracks of the weathered floorboards. He touched the cold floor, trying to sweep it up, but found nothing there. Julie stirred, smiled, and stretched until her muscles protested.
“Wow, how did I get here?” She took a deep, satisfying breath.
“How do you feel?” He turned a concerned gaze on her.
She sat up, leaning on her hands, wincing. “Ow. I fell asleep?”
“It was the drugs they gave you. You remember anything?” He studied her face, wondering if she recalled her wild behavior of the night before.
“Nothing after we left the hospital.” Something dropped in the other room, and Julie jumped.
“Willy just got here. You want my phone? You have to call in sick.”
Julie made a face. “I have to talk to you about that. I kind of quit my job yesterday.”
Brad sat on the floor and handed her the sandwich. “What happened?”
“Mr. Wilson. He was…inappropriate.”
“What do you mean, inappropriate?”
Julie shrugged, tears welling in her eyes. “He wanted to…you know.”
“No, I don’t know. What happened, Jules?” Brad said, his voice rising.
“He tried to touch me. He didn’t. Brad, stop.” She pulled him back before he could stand up. “I hit him. It’s over.” She caressed his tense hand.
“I’ll kill him.” Brad’s face looked like stone.
“No, you won’t. I don’t work there anymore. We need the bank. I am not going to say anything; otherwise, he’ll have the bank pull in our credit line.”
“I’ll still kill him.”
Brad stood. Julie stood as well and came up behind him, feeling the intense power in his body.
“No, we are moving on. Now we really have to make this house move. Maybe you’ll reconsider the bed-and-breakfast?” she asked hopefully.
Brad left the room without answering her. He found Willy under the sink, his great arms twisting a wrench.
“I know you’re there. I can hear your heavy breathing.” Willy laughed. “Turn on the water.”
Brad walked over to the sink and turned on the faucet. The pipes gave an agonizing groan, followed by a belch and a brown trickle making its way into the dirty porcelain sink.
“The stove works. Now you have water. I’d say we are halfway there. The fridge is a goner.” Willy hoisted himself up. “What’s going on? I could hear you all the way in here.”
“Julie’s boss got too familiar with her.”
“I never liked that guy. You going to do something?”
Brad looked up at him with a smirk, whispering, “Not right now.”
“She OK?”
“I am fine.” Julie entered, limping slightly, and walked straight into Willy’s warm embrace. “How are Rita and LaMarr?”
“It’s all good. I don’t know, I leave for four days and come back to holy hell.” He noticed a truck pulling into the back. “I think the foundation people are here. I’ll see you later.”
Brad looked at Julie, his hands on his hips.
“I’m crimping your style,” she stated.
“You could say that,” he agreed.
“I can help?” she answered.
“Not with those hands. I’ve got some gloves in the truck. There’s a shitload of stuff in theattic. You can start going through that, as long as your hands are covered. There’s, like, ten decades of junk up there.”
“Yes, sir,
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