* * *
RAMIREZ CALLED TWO days later.
Despite Cole’s mixed feelings about how he’d gotten his latest job, he was glad to be able to say, “Yeah, I’m still working.” In fact, he’d been on his knees pulling up rotten boards when the phone rang. “Another neighbor.”
Yes, he’d gotten a driver’s license. No to a car. He wasn’t about to buy anything that wasn’t halfway reliable. He had to explain that he couldn’t even apply for a job with a contractor until he had the ability to get to job sites.
“You’re good at working on cars, though,” Ramirez countered.
“Don’t have the tools for anything complicated,” he said briefly.
They pretty much left it at that, Ramirez just reminding him that he had to report any change of address.
Cole had checked out Craigslist and seen a few vehicles worth looking at. He didn’t let himself forget the cost of insurance and gas. If he had a job, he might quality for a car loan of a few thousand dollars that would extend the possibilities, but he doubted he could get a job without already having transportation. So—cheap car, upgrade later if necessary.
Assuming anyone would hire him, of course. He’d forever face the stigma of the felony conviction. He’d only been working something like six weeks. Whether that was enough to make a difference, he had no idea. The coward in him wanted to keep taking temporary projects, put off handing applications to strangers who’d drop them in the trash the minute they saw the checked box at the bottom. But it had to be done eventually. Would another month of this kind of work help? Two more months?
Construction was busier in spring and summer. It was already past the middle of May. Waiting too long to start applying wouldn’t be smart. Not many people would hire him to do this kind of small job once the rains started in the fall, either.
Still kneeling on Wagner’s porch, Cole felt cold despite the sun on his back. Once he got the new kitchen cabinets and sink installed in his apartment, he’d be left with painting the walls and replacing some of the molding. A matter of another week or two, if he worked hard.
Only when he heard the front door opening did he toss the rotten board onto the grass and apply the crowbar to the next.
* * *
“THANKS FOR OFFERING to help,” Cole said, taking a last swallow of coffee. “Ryan saw where I was at and came over to give me a hand with any heavy lifting.”
It was time to start clearing the table, but Erin didn’t want to give any signal that would have Cole excusing himself and leaving. After at least a week of seeming cool toward her, tonight he was friendly and relaxed. She just wished she knew why he’d been so distant all week. Had it been her questions?
“Well, he does have more impressive muscles than I do.” She flexed her puny bicep for the pleasure of seeing him laugh.
The change she’d seen in him was astonishing. He did laugh these days, and smiled often. He openly took pride in his work, and seemed to enjoy watching her garden take shape as much as she did. He’d offered to build an arbor over the walkway where it parted from the driveway, so she could plant more climbing roses. Before she could even open her mouth, he’d narrowed his eyes and told her not to say a word about pay. She could buy the lumber; that was it.
The labor and skill, she understood, was his way of saying thank you. So she’d only smiled and nodded. He had promised to build it as soon as he finished Del Wagner’s porch.
He stretched. “I think I’ll head up to the library. Nice that it isn’t getting dark so early.”
“You’re welcome to take the car.”
“Thanks, but I enjoy walking.”
“You must be a speed reader.” Unless he was lying about his destination, he went to the library several nights a week.
“A lot of the time I just use the computer.”
She frowned. “You don’t sound as if you had much exposure at Walla Walla.”
“I didn’t. Partly my fault. They offer some classes, like programming. The one I regret not taking was Computer-Aided Design. That would’ve been handy for planning small projects.” He shrugged. “Once I get a computer.”