Soaring (Magdalene #2)(85)
He interrupted me gently, “Things are settling, so take better care. You with me?”
He was right. Things were settling.
I needed to take better care.
I nodded.
And that was when the date officially began.
We started talking and it came easy.
He told me even though Rhiannon had still not shown, Cill was “back on track” and both his kids were “gearing up for school.”
Then he’d made that settling feeling settle even deeper when his beautiful blue eyes got more beautiful when they became warm and intent as I shared the first real things with him about my kids; that Pippa had been upset not making the cheerleading squad and both of them were in cahoots with me to get my brother out for Thanksgiving.
“I get Thanksgiving this year,” I told him happily.
And getting this information, Mickey looked just as happy.
“Close with your brother?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “Growing up, he could be an annoying big brother, but in our house, it was him and me. Dad was always working. Mom had other priorities. We were mostly raised by nannies who Mom thought it was her only motherly duty to find lacking, fire, then hire someone new we’d get used to right before she’d fire them. So we were smart and we were lucky, with only each other, we got close rather than stuck in our own worlds.”
“Good you had somebody,” he remarked and I grinned.
“Better because Lawr isn’t just the one who was there. He’s a good guy who cares a lot about his probably annoying little sister.”
“With only brothers, always wanted a sister,” he told me.
“Even having a great brother, I always did too,” I replied.
Things stayed easy as we got our steamers, then ate our chowder with Mickey ordering me another glass of wine when mine got low.
Through this, he shared about his work, mostly why he disliked his boss.
This was because his boss had underbid so rabidly on projects, he’d built almost a monopoly in the county. This he was able to do providing substandard materials. He also pushed his workers to finish the job quickly, cutting corners along the way, which meant not only the materials but the labor was substandard.
And Mickey was always foreman on the roofing jobs and sometimes foreman on the construction jobs. He didn’t like doing what his boss made him do. He didn’t agree with doing it. But it wasn’t his job to like it or agree with it. It was his job to do it.
And Mickey being the kind of man Mickey was, he liked this least of all.
So, with Mickey the face of the business for clients, he got it at both ends: the workers angry they didn’t have time to do their jobs and more, they were pushed to overtime and weekend work, but also the clients who would contact Mickey and complain when things inevitably went wrong.
I made a mental note to look outside the county should I need any of this kind of work done, but other than that, I had little to say, except, “I’m sorry, honey. That sounds awful.”
“Yeah, it sucks,” he agreed. “But recent news, I’ve got it in me to take the risk, it could get better.”
Since his work seemed pretty dismal, and this sounded quite exciting, I leaned slightly over my empty chowder cup, hand up with my wineglass, elbow resting on the table, and asked, “How?”
“Chief told me that the town’s gonna vote on allocating more money to the fire department,” he answered. “We had a development go in ’bout five years ago. Nothin’ big, only twenty houses, but it’s still more people and more taxes. Now, the Club has asked for planning permission to build a golf course and add houses that’ll be built around that course. Members of the Club got money and pull, so this’ll go through. And that shopping place is already up and running on Mills jetty, more buildings, more trade. We got enough volunteers to cover but we all know that’s thin and it asks a lot of the guys to put their asses on the line and give the time needed, which for each of us is a lot.”
I nodded, still not liking that Mickey put his “ass on the line,” still not sharing that, instead asking, “The Club?”
“The Magdalene Club. Private bar and restaurant, moneyed, members only.”
“Ah,” I murmured.
When that was all I had, he kept speaking.
“So, the chief has gone to the town council with a proposal. Stay at part-time pay for a chief and full-time pay for a firefighter who’ll help the chief recruit, do scheduling, training, keep volunteers sharp by runnin’ drills and shit—”
“And you want to be that firefighter,” I cut him off to guess.
“No, Amy, I wanna be the chief.”
I blinked.
“Bobby is sixty-three,” he explained. “He can’t live off part-time, even if that packet is pretty decent. So he’s also got a full-time and he’s been our chief for eleven years. Town might be small and sleepy but shit happens and the fire department can never not be on the ball. His last vacation, he and his wife went to Tucson to look at houses. He’s ready to retire. He does, he’s gonna recommend me to the town council for his job. I got in the most time, got the most experience, fill in for him when he’s not around. So I can do that job, take that salary and then run my own crew.”
“Of firefighters?” I asked.
“Yeah. And of roofers,” he answered and I felt my eyes widen. “Start my own business. People around here know me. I won’t be the cheapest but they can expect quality, have their roof redone or fixed and know they don’t have to worry about the next rain or any weather for another ten, fifteen years, depending on the materials they pay for. I know I could take Ralph’s trade. Could do the same with his contractor work too. Already got the license, went for that a while ago when Ralph pissed me off more than he usually does. Just was dealin’ with Rhiannon and didn’t have the time to cut loose. But if I do this, I’d have to start small, build it if it works. Won’t have to worry about the crew, all Ralph’s boys’ll come with me. With the money coming in regular from the department, I’ve only done the numbers in my head, but I figure things’ll be really tight for about six months and then I’ll start turning a profit and in the end things’ll be a whole lot more comfortable for the kids and me.”