seemed only to heighten Denton’s aversion toward me. It was as if a thick, stone wall had been erected between us. I had no idea how it had gotten there, and no idea how to pull it down.
That week, Gwen and Maize from Team A joined our renovation squad. Portia gave the two women specific tasks and checked their progress throughout the morning. I watched and learned from her leadership skills, grateful she was in the Revamp Program.
By Thursday, Portia had talked Dagger into rejoining the crew in time to unload the drywall delivery. And the next day, Simon finally caved and picked up a trowel.
With the two teams working together, the first property was ready for its finishing touches.
It wasn’t until we’d finished painting the interior that I realized I’d gone an entire day without thinking of Brad.
The heat of mid-July became stifling as we strove to keep to our schedule. The ocean breezes that kept us comfortable in early summer had departed, leaving a pall of humidity over Del Gloria’s rocky promontory. I couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that I’d been away from home more than a month and still hadn’t heard from Brad. Things couldn’t possibly be taking this long to wrap up, could they? Back in Michigan, my old log cabin would be cool in its woodland hidey-hole by the lake. What I wouldn’t give to spend the blistering summer there in the shade. I knew it was impossible, but my fingers itched to pick up the phone, if only to remind Puppa to pay the electric bill. I calmed myself, certain I’d be home any day now.
Then came August. Still in Del Gloria. Still shriveling in the heat. I’d gotten in the habit of arriving at the project before dawn, while the air was somewhat bearable. The rest of the gang generally arrived around seven, allowing me treasured hours to work in solitude.
Before I knew it, September came without fanfare, and without a phone call from Brad. With each passing month, it got harder and harder to keep faith that he’d ever contact me.
Every morning I’d wake up and pretend everything was still okay. To work, to school, then back to Cliffhouse, like that was how things were supposed to be. I would put Brad out of my mind and get through each day, imagining that I could keep it up until the Old Town project was finished and I had my college degree.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my life was like a balloon about to land in a field of needles. I’d aced my exams, the team was on track for completion of house number four, and the longed-for rain showers were holding off until the roof repairs got done. I should have felt blessed. But somehow I knew better.
I threw on my work clothes, put my hair in a ponytail, and headed to the curb for my date with Dogpatch.
Headlights came up the road, pulling over to let me board. I took my usual seat one row behind the driver. A few other sleepy riders looked toward me, then back out the window.
“How are you this morning, Miss Braddock?” the driver asked in his Chinese accent. He put the bus in gear.
“Could have used a cup of coffee,” I answered, yawning. “You and me both.” His slight frame was made smaller by the immensity of the vehicle he drove.
“Have you heard the weather?” I set my tote on the floor next to my feet.
“Old Chinese proverb says when everybody wants rain, nobody gets it.”
“I don’t want rain. We still have to tar the chimney before it’s allowed to rain.”
“Good. Then it rains tonight.” He looked in his mirror at me. “Better hurry with that chimney.”
Daylight sifted slowly over the landscape. Brown lawns and shriveled plants made their plea for water.
The bus stopped in front of the old depot. The driver opened the door for unloading.
“Thanks, Mr. Kim. See you later.” I made my walk toward Rios Buena Suerta. The other passengers stayed in the station, waiting to make their daily commute to the city via the Amtrak.
I shuffled along dim streets thinking about my latest stab at college. I was holding steady with a 3.5 GPA. The four-point in my Non-profit Organizations class was dragged down by the three-point on the Revamp Project.
I had asked Denton first chance I got why he gave me a B instead of an A.
“I assigned you to be the leader,” he’d replied. “You’re letting others do your job. You’re skating through. You’re lucky I didn’t give you a C.”
I paused at the intersection, smiling to myself. Despite Denton’s rebuff, I was proud of my accomplishment. I almost wished I could complete my degree here at Del Gloria. It would reverse the fact that I’d had to drop out of Michigan State. But Brad’s phone call would come any day. I just knew it. And as soon as I hit the disconnect button, I’d be on the first flight out of here and back in Brad’s arms.
Guilt hit me at the thought of walking out on my teammates. They were counting on me to be here ’til the end. But once I explained the whole situation, they’d understand and wish me the best.
I turned the corner onto Rios Buena Suerta and covered the distance to our mostly completed House Number Four. I grabbed the hidden key and climbed the ramp that covered the front steps. A swift turn of the handle, and I was in.
The dining and living rooms still needed paint before the project was complete. And, we were waiting for a friend of a friend of Dagger’s to drop off his extension ladder so we could finish plugging the leak near the chimney. But with no rain in the forecast, there was no hurry.
I flipped on the lights and stooped over the paint cans. We’d gone with my favorite neutral, a pale ivory, to keep the rooms bright and warm. Rubbery paint separated as I pried the top off and poured a stream into the tray. The roller made a slurping sound as I wet it with color. I stood and turned toward my target wall.
I froze, staring at the wall and gasping for air.
PATRICIA AMBLE WAS HERE. The words were sprayed in huge black letters across the smooth surface.
14
The letters blurred as I shrank to the floor, instinctively holding the roller away from my clothes. I gave myself a mental kick. Whoever had written it knew I worked alone every morning. That meant they could be watching me right now. Waiting for me.
Caring more about protecting my secret than avoiding bodily harm, I dragged the roller across the words, painting them out. But the black showed through and I raced to get a fresh supply of paint to blot the letters.
By the time I was satisfied, tears and sweat had made a mess of my face.
Outside, the porch creaked.
I whirled as someone entered the room.
“Celia! Thank goodness it’s you.” My heart thudded out of control.
Her chair made a quiet whirring as she steered to me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, still gasping.
“You shouldn’t work so hard this early in the morning.
You look like you’re ready to pass out.” She took the roller from my grip. “Put your head between your knees.”
She wheeled over to the wall, emptied the roller over its surface, then maneuvered to the tray for a refill. “When the rest of them get here, we should have these two rooms done in no time.” She painted a patch of drywall.
“Yeah.” I kept up my pattern of breathing, feeling my brain connections coming back on line. “Who was the last one to leave last night? Do you remember?”
“Uh oh. Did someone forget to lock the door? Usually I’m the last one out. But Maize, Koby, and Portia were still here when I left.” She finished a lower section and went for more paint.
We’d started hitting the night shift pretty hard when some of the team members took jobs in addition to classes. Dagger and Simon showed up in the mornings. The rest arrived after supper and stayed until dark. I managed to cover both shifts.
The chaotic schedules didn’t make it any easier to weed out my antagonist.
Today, Dagger and Simon pulled in around ten. I watched their behavior to see if either one acted strange around me. They both seemed normal, if they could be called that.
“Why do you keep staring at me?” Simon asked as we taped off the trim in a back bedroom.
I figured if I told him his birthmark was fading again, he’d think I was loony. I gave him a shrug of apology and
