Page 13 of Studfinder

Rita

For several days in a row, I arrive early at Building Buddies, check in with Sullivan, and then disappear as quickly as I can. I haven’t lingered at the building site for more than a few minutes each day, which means I have successfully avoided Jake for three days.

However, this morning, I’m not quite so fortunate. Jake is already present and digging through a toolbox at Sullivan’s feet as I hobble into the yard. Damn heels.

Jake is crouched down, his body low to the ground, and I force my gaze away from him. Almost as soon as I’ve arrived, Alfred Jennings pulls up to the project. The director of Building Buddies exits his car, and I note his paunchy belly looks even paunchier, stretching his button-down enough to strain the buttons over his middle.

“Alfred,” I call out as the older man nears where I stand.

“Rita, I was hoping you would be here. I wanted to speak with you a moment.” The roughness in his voice gives away the years he has spent smoking cigarettes. After my father’s second heart attack and subsequent death, I have more concern for the health of his older friends, especially Alfred. Still, there’s a sharpness to his tone that unsettles me, and for some reason, my gaze shifts sideways, noticing Jake slowly standing from his lowered position. With his body aimed toward mine, I avert my eyes from Jake and return my attention to Alfred.

“What can I do for you?” I ask, sensing something urgent and serious in his voice. My eyes shift once more to Jake’s unnerving presence. Feet from me, he’s stone-still, watching our interaction. I take a step toward Alfred and wobble again in my heels. Heels have no place at a building site. Cursing under my breath, I reach out for Alfred’s arm as if he can anchor me before I topple over. Once steady, Alfred shifts my hand to the crook of his arm and leads us to the front door of the house. We’ve had heavy rains this week and more predicted for the weekend. We need to get the siding on this place.

“Is everything okay?” Hesitating, I clutch at Alfred’s elbow as walking in heels on muddy earth isn’t ideal.

“Everything is fine. I just wanted to let you know that I’m thinking of stepping down from the director position.”

“What? No, Alfred. This is your program.” Alfred started Building Buddies back in the 90s with a few of his business colleagues, my father being one of them. The original crew of men rotated the responsibility of the directorship amongst themselves. Alfred is the only one who remains connected to the organization.

“It’s time. I’m overdue to retire, actually, and Regina wants to move south. She also wants the liberty to spend more time with our grandkids.” Alfred and Regina have several children scattered around the United States. A small pang of regret hits my chest as my own parents never had more children, thus no grandchildren. My father died before Ian and I were engaged. My mother wanted to remain in Vermont until I married. When that didn’t happen, she went south herself.

“I wanted you to know I’m going to recommend you take over the program.”

“Me?” I stare up at Alfred. “I don’t know anything about running a not-for-profit organization.”

“Yes, you do.” Alfred pats my hand. “You’ve been working with us forever.”

“Yes, working. I build, construct, design, supervise, but only when I can. I have a full-time job.”

Alfred chuckles. “We all did at one point,” he states, speaking of his status as still working. “The directorship is outside the scope of a job. It pays a stipend, but it’s not comparable to what you make as an attorney. Still, I think you can handle this. In fact, I’d hate to turn the directorship over to anyone else, so I’m recommending the board consider you as the new, permanent director.”

“Permanent director?” I question.

“We need someone with longevity, and as you aren’t going anywhere, I wouldn’t want Building Buddies to go to anyone else.” The comment should sting, implying I have nothing else in my life, so why not run the organization. Then again, I’m honored Alfred has this kind of faith in me. Still, I’m not certain I’m the right fit. While I’ve been splitting my time between the office and here—handing over more cases and contracts to May—is this what I want to do next?

“I’d need to think about it,” I say, and Alfred turns his attention away from admiring the single-story home to level me with a liquid gaze.

“What is there to think about?” Once again, his question suggests an unspoken assumption that I have nothing else to do in my life. Alfred takes a deep breath. “You know, when I started this group along with your father and some friends from the church, we wanted to give back and beef up our resumes.” He softly laughs.

“Nonprofit organizations look good on resumes. It says you’re involved in your community, care about others, and take on leadership roles, but over time, this work became a passion for many of us. We loved handing over the keys to a family in need. We appreciated what we had a little more, even if we wrestled with loss.” He pats my hand still tucked into his elbow.

“You’ve always been a go-getter, Rita. Leadership is within your blood. There’s no doubt you care for others, defending what’s been wronged, dealing with what’s right.”

I snort, not certain livestock disputes or housing contracts right wrongs.

“You need this,” he states, smiling back at the house, and now, he’s lost me. I glance up at it myself. I take great pride in working for Building Buddies. This is my third official project as a supervisor, and I’ve been honored to handle each build in the area. We span two states, so I’m not involved in every construction site. That falls to the directorship position.

“At our next board meeting, I’m going to recommend you. The board will need to vote, but I have no doubt they’ll lean in my favor.”

The next board meeting is a month away.

“As I said, I’d like to think about it, but I’m honored you consider me worthy.”

Alfred pats my hand once more, but this time I feel that pat as patronizing. It implies I have nothing else going for me, so I might as well take on the position.

Alfred leans forward, and air kisses my cheek, pressing his clammy skin to the side of my face. Releasing my hand, I watch him turn back for his car and notice Jake following the movements of Alfred’s retreat. As soon as the director enters his sedan and backs out of the yard, Jake approaches me.

“Everything okay?” His hesitant tone has my brows pinching.