First Love's Second Chance

Chapter 1

Deacon

April 2013

“I’ve got the specs in front of me, but there’s no information on sustainability, or on the budget. I can't take on a contract and hire out subcontractors until I’ve got the full brief.”

I squeeze the bridge of my nose. Today has been one of those days where I wish I could climb into one of the holes the boys have dug, and not come out until my shit’s together.

“Yeah, that’s great,” I mumble to the guy on the other end of the phone. To be honest this project is more trouble than it’s worth, but someone’s got to do it, “Fax me over a draft when it’s done, and we’ll talk over lunch next week. I’ve got to go, another call.”

I press end, and answer my mother’s call.

“What’s up, Mum?” I balance the phone between my ear and shoulder and tap at my computer.

“Hi, sweetheart. I’m just checking that you’re still coming to the Rivera’s tonight. I need to get back to Mindy with numbers.”

“I don’t know if I can make it, I’ve got a load of stuff to take care of here.”

“Don’t do that.”

Here we go.

“Do what?”

“Avoid your commitments. Don’t use that company to get out of things. Mindy has been like family these last five years, and she deserves your gratitude.”

“Okay,” I sigh, defeated, “I’ll be there.”

I can't see the point in going, I’ve no urge to be a part of that family any more, and there’s nothing that attracts me to that house now.

“Super. I’ve organised a suit to be delivered to the site, so wear that.”

“I’ve got plenty of suits.”

“This a nice one. No arguments. I’ve got errands to run. Be there by seven.”

And then the line is dead. I take a deep breath. I haven’t stepped a foot in that house in five and a half years. I don’t think I’ll be welcome – I’m sure Mindy just invited me because she invited Mum and Brad. Fuck. I rake my hand through my hair, flick to today’s date in the diary, and stare at the page that I keep empty every year. Just in case.

There’s a bang on the door, and I slam the diary shut. Mike comes in and wipes his feet on the mat inside the door.

“What do you need, man?”

“Need to order some more supplies. The boys didn’t tell me we were running low.”

“You can't just go to the merchant?”

“That’s a two hour round trip Deac. I’ll get nothing done today and it’s Friday. The missus has booked dinner for tomorrow so I need to make something today -”

“Fine,” I put my hands up, anything but to hear about his materialistic naggy-as-hell wife, “What do you need?”

“Studs, hurricane clips and some sinkers.”

“Fucking hell,” I fight the urge to grab fistfuls of my hair, “I can't get it in until Monday, Mike.”

I feel so overdressed for dinner at the Rivera’s. Mum sent the works, and there is no way I’m wearing a tie and jacket for a dinner in someone’s barn dining room. So I’ve worn the trousers and shirt. No tie, no jacket.

I knock on the door quietly. If they don’t hear me, I can say I tried. Esteban Rivera answers the door as I turn to leave.

“Where you going, son?” He asks, and I turn around to greet him.