The World Played Chess (32)

I didn’t understand his question at first. Then I realized he was asking about the leftover lumber from the cuts I’d made.

“What did you do with them?”

“I used them for the fire blocks, or for the smaller pieces you and William needed.”

Todd looked confused. He pointed to the sawdust pile. “That’s all that remains?”

I worried I’d done something wrong. “No. We got more eight-and ten-footers downstairs,” I said. “I didn’t unsnap the final two bundles. I reused the roof beams for the longer pieces.”

Todd did not look convinced. He looked like I was pulling his leg. William crouched and smiled up at me as Todd walked to the building’s edge and looked down at the two bundles of wood I had not touched, then turned and peered at me like I’d just landed from outer space. After a beat he looked at William, who chuckled.

“Well, shit,” Todd said. “I’ll take them back to the lumberyard.” He removed his gloves. “Kelley’s working late.” I assumed Kelley to be his wife. “Let’s grab a drink at Behan’s.”

I knew the Irish pub on Broadway, though I’d never been inside, and I didn’t want to risk having my brother’s expired driver’s license confiscated. “I can’t get in,” I said.

William stood from his crouch. “Yeah. You can. Todd and I will meet you on the sidewalk out front.”

I helped clean up the tools and lock down the jobsite, slipped on my T-shirt, and walked to my car parked at the curb in front of the house where the two women had been swimming. As I unlocked the driver’s-side door, the fire-engine-red Mustang backed out of the garage, the two women in it.

“Hi,” the brunette said from the passenger seat. She had both arms folded on the car door, her chin resting on her hands.

“Hey,” I said.

The driver leaned across the car. “You finished for the day?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“You want to come out and get a drink?”

This confirmed the two women were older than twenty-one. I was not yet close. I could just picture a scenario where I went out with them and the bouncer laughed at my fake driver’s license, then the two women laughed at me.

“I’m going to Behan’s,” I said. “With the guys I work with.”

The driver got out of the car but left the engine running. The passenger followed. “I’m Jennifer,” the driver said. “This is my cousin, Amy. She’s visiting from New York.”

“Hey,” I said. “I’m Vincent.”

“You live around here?” Jennifer asked.

“Just up the hill.”

“Where did you go to high school?”

“Serra,” I said and realized Jennifer maybe thought I was home for the summer from college or that I worked construction full time. “I go to Stanford.” I said it with purpose. I figured it was nothing more than a white lie, since I couldn’t envision how it might hurt anyone. It didn’t go unnoticed.

Jennifer said, “Wow,” and smiled at Amy.

Not wanting her to ask me what year I was in school or for any details, I quickly asked, “How about you? Where do you go?”

“I’m a senior at UC Davis.”

“My brother and sister graduated from Davis,” I said.

“Amy goes to Fordham law school in New York. She’s visiting and hopes to go out before she goes back to start her internship at a law firm in Manhattan.”

“When do you go back?” I asked.

“Sunday.”

I shrugged. Now I could be bold. “I have plans tonight, and a softball game tomorrow night.” Mike had gotten me a spot playing second base for the Northpark Yankees during their summer softball season. Their regular second baseman had moved back to New York. A thought crossed my mind. “You’d probably like the guys I play with. They’re all from New York.”

“How do you know them?” Amy asked.

“My sister’s boyfriend is from New York and plays on the team.”

“Where do you play the games?” Jennifer asked.

“Washington Park. It’s at—”

“I went to Burlingame High School.” That’s where the park was located. “What time is the game?”

I doubted either would come to a softball game. “We play at six. Afterward, we go to Village Host on Broadway.”

“Maybe we’ll see you there,” Jennifer said.

Amy smiled.

They got back in their expensive car. Amy looked at me over her shoulder with that radiant smile that made me feel like George Kennedy watching his Lucille. Like George and the rest of the chain gang, there wasn’t a chance I was going to get to know Amy any better, so, emboldened, I gave her my best Paul Newman grin, like I knew what was what, and I had enjoyed every minute of it.

Amy blushed.

If it was the last time I ever saw her, I figured at least I’d have a good memory, one in which I wasn’t the embarrassed high school kid.



Todd and William stood on the sidewalk outside Behan’s sucking down cigarettes. Cars lined the street, parked in slanted parking spaces, and people crowded the sidewalks, eating at restaurants and enjoying the long summer days and the warm weather. Music spilled from Behan’s open windows. “Sorry,” I said. I wasn’t. Not in the least. I had rehearsed telling them the story in my head. “I ran into those two girls from next door as I was getting into my car.”