Any Closer

We met the event organizers an hour later at six, and three hours later, even though we were working really hard, true to Dave’s prediction, we were freezing. But homes were built year-round, and when they built in the middle of high summer, it wasn’t any more fun. I never understood what was wrong with picking one season, a nice one like spring, but it was not my place to question. I just had to do.

It never got any warmer, but we got covered in particle dust and drywall and paint. They fed us a boxed lunch that Dave wanted to shove up somebody’s ass because it might feed a second-grader, but not a full-grown man. He brightened a little when I told him I would take them, all six of them, out for steaks the minute we were done.

“How come Paul and Charlie and the others ain’t here?” And by others, he meant Levi, Freddy, Jace, and Ren. It was Trey who had asked the question.

“Because they worked the last stupid Saturday in December and you got to lay your ass in bed,” Ace answered. “Remember, douche, once a month we do this bullshit.”

“And I enjoyed it,” Bill told us as he swung the hammer, casting a smirk around, “laying my ass in bed. Not that sitting up here with you guys freezing my ass off ain’t a good time.”

“Nice of you to end your vacation early and join us,” I thanked him.

“Fuck you, Leo. I would’ve never heard the end of it if I didn’t show.”

Randy told him to shut the fuck up. Dave threw a tape measure at him, which was a bad idea on a slanted surface.

“Asshole!”

“Every construction company that participates has to send five guys plus a foreman to each event,” I told Trey, returning to the original topic, trying to be the voice of reason before tools started flying.

He grunted. “If Charlie was here, they would have fed us better.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He’s pretty,” he grumbled. “All the sponsor people are always all over him, especially the women.”

“And he don’t even like girls, just like you.” Dave was so exasperated. “Damn waste of time.”

When we were back on solid ground, another three hours later, I asked him what he meant.

“About what?”

“Before, when you were talking about me,” I told him. “What’d you mean?”

“What I meant, boss, was that if I was you, I’d get laid a lot more.”

“I do just fine, thank you.”

“Girls cream their jeans just lookin’ at you.”

“Aww, for fuck’s sake, Dave, why you gotta be so—”

“Women throw themselves at you all damn day, and you don’t give a good goddamn!”

“Christ, what crawled up your ass?”

“I’m hungry!”

“Okay, honey, don’t worry. I’ll feed you.”

He growled at me but grabbed me as he walked by, bending me in half, locking his arm around my neck, and putting me in a choke hold. “Now. I wanna eat now.”

Everyone was laughing.

The Meat Cleaver was our favorite place to go after work. Ace called the others, the whole rest of the crew, and I was surprised that they all showed up except Paul, who was still making nice with my sister, and Ali, who had a date.

“Screw you guys!” Dave roared across the restaurant, but it was fine, because with peanut shells on the floor, along with sawdust, it was not a quiet place, and he could yell if he wanted to. It was nuts on game night and was, in fact, one of the rowdiest restaurant/sports bars around, which was why the guys loved it. I was hoping that after eating I could pay for dinner and duck out early, leaving them to drink the rest of the night away if they wanted. Between the fight, which had been short but painful, and the lack of sleep, I was ready to pass out.

When I saw Charlie starting across the restaurant, I raised my hand and waved. He looked startled the closer he got, slowing down, stopping and then moving again after a moment. I leaned my head on my hand, smiling at him as the waitress put a Pepsi down in front of me.

“Not drinkin’ tonight, hon?”

“If I drink, I’ll fall asleep.” I smiled up at her.

“Long night?”

“Day, night, new day. You get the idea.”

“Oh, I do,” she said, patting my back before walking away.

“Hey there, boss man.” Charlie eyed me, making Dave get up so he could have the seat beside me.

“Hey back.” I yawned, and I could feel how gritty my eyes felt. I lifted my hand to rub them.

“Don’t do that,” Charlie warned me. “Your eyes are already watering, and they’re red, and what the fuck did you do to yourself?”

I chuckled. Why did people always ask that question that way? “I got hit in the face.”

“Yeah, I can see—will you look at me, please?”