Chapter Two
“I thought we were going to the park,” Jordan said, frowning out the window of Wade’s truck as they went down an unfamiliar street.
Would Jordan ever learn his way around this stupid burg? Back in L.A., he knew which buses to take to all the important places when his mom didn’t have time to drive him: the skateboard park, the closest mall, the library and a couple of his buddies’ houses. Crescent Cove didn’t even have buses except for the Greyhound that stopped out on the highway once a day. When he’d asked his mom if he could ride the ferry to Seattle by himself, she’d practically freaked.
The street they were on was narrow and curvy with patches all over the pavement. Tree branches dipped low, making Jordan feel as though they were going down a green tunnel.
“I have to run an errand first,” Wade replied. “A friend of mine forgot some papers he needs, so we’re going to drop them off at his building site.”
Wade stared straight ahead, looking like he wasn’t happy about it.
“Are you and your friend in a fight?” Jordan asked. “You look mad.”
He didn’t like it when people argued. Francis, his and Mom’s friend back in California, always spoke softly except when he got mad at his partner, Augustine, for charging too many clothes on his credit card. Then Jordan could hear their angry voices clear over in the guest house where he and his mom lived.
Had lived until Francis dropped dead right in his fancy kitchen. After that, Mom said she guessed it was time to come home, he reminded himself. Except this totally lame and boring town would never feel like home to Jordan. It didn’t have a skateboard park or a cinema, except for one tiny old theater that showed art films, whatever they were.
His question must have surprised Wade, because when he finally turned his head, his dark brows had climbed up his forehead, making wrinkles.
“No, I’m not fighting with him,” Wade replied. “Why would you think that? He’s my buddy, same as you.”
Jordan shrugged, feeling self-conscious. He would never understand grown-ups, not even when he became one himself. “Wow. He’s building a house?” he asked. “Can I see it?”
Wade grinned and Jordan was able to relax again.
“He’s building two houses, but one is nearly done. We’ll have to wear hard hats around the other one,” Wade cautioned. “I’ll even show you the framing I did.”
“Cool,” Jordan exclaimed eagerly, even though he wasn’t sure what framing had to do with anything. Back in California, he had driven by houses that were only partly finished, of course, but not to stop and walk through them. This might be nearly as much fun as shooting hoops.
“Steve’s a neat guy,” Wade added in the same casual tone that adults used when they said the shot won’t hurt or your new school will be great. “You’ll like him.”
Jordan wasn’t fooled for a minute. He’d heard about Steve from Cory’s pal, Ryan, when he’d said that Steve was Jordan’s real dad. Sure, Jordan was curious about him, but he wasn’t sure that he was ready to actually meet the guy face-to-face. What if Steve acted disappointed?
Suddenly he wished he’d worn his new Sonics shirt instead of his old tank top, and that he hadn’t argued when Mom said he needed a haircut.
“Maybe you could go later, after you dropped me off at Aunt Pauline’s,” he suggested uncertainly as he wet the tip of his finger and rubbed a chocolate stain on the leg of his shorts.
“What’s the matter?” Wade asked as he slowed to make another turn. The houses were farther apart here, with pastures and stables mixed in between them. There were more fir trees, too. “A minute ago you were excited about it.”
“Nothing,” Jordan denied automatically. “I just remembered that Mom wants me home early today.” He hated the way his voice squeaked, but he felt as though someone had hold of his neck, choking off his air.
Wade reached over and patted his knee. “It’s okay,” he said, his calm tone reminding Jordan of the way Francis spoke when he wanted him to try something new, like jumping off the diving board into the pool, which turned out to be pretty fun, or tasting sushi for the first time. Gross.
“Just say hi, all right? It won’t be anything heavy, I promise.” Wade grinned. “Besides, aren’t you a little bit curious?”
Jordan looked at him sharply, but he was watching the road ahead where a truck pulling a huge boat was going really slow. It was almost as though he and Jordan were talking in a secret code, discussing one thing while they really meant something else.
Again Jordan shrugged, even though Wade wasn’t watching him. “I guess.” He wondered if his mom knew where they were going. Maybe she had even asked Wade to do it, so she wouldn’t have to deal with it herself.
If Steve really was Jordan’s dad, wouldn’t she have said something a long time ago? Jordan had never heard of Steve before they moved to Crescent Cove.
He and his mom talked about all kinds of stuff, like not telling people that they didn’t actually live in the big house with Francis or letting on that Augustine wasn’t really the gardener. She had even told Jordan that the reason they had never visited Aunt Paulie before now was because Mom had done something that had really, really hurt her feelings. Something that made Mom cry when she talked about it. She said she had just gotten something in her eye, but he knew better. He was really curious because he couldn’t imagine her ever doing anything that bad, but he’d been afraid to ask and make her cry again.
When they had first come here, Aunt Paulie hadn’t acted happy to see them at all, even though she tried to pretend. She had been nice to Jordan right from the beginning, though, and he thought it would be okay. Then something happened to make her mad at his mom again. Wade moved out of the apartment over the garage and went to stay with Steve for a while, but that was way before Ryan had blabbed about him being Jordan’s biological father.
Now Aunt Paulie was engaged to Wade and everybody was going nuts about their wedding. Wade had even teased Jordan about walking up the aisle with a basket of rose petals, as if all the powers in the universe could make him do anything that embarrassing.
Jordan was really, really relieved that Wade had been joking. It was bad enough that Mom insisted that he would have to wear a tie.
Jordan avoided thinking about mushy stuff as much as he could, but sometimes he noticed Wade put his arm around Aunt Paulie and once he had seen them kissing, just like actors in a steamy music video. Except they were way too old for that.
Gross!
Finally Wade turned the truck onto a gravel road that seemed to go straight into the woods. Jordan looked around curiously, but he didn’t see any buildings.
“Are there any wild animals around here?” he asked as they bumped over the deep ruts. Maybe they would see a bear or a mountain lion! He had seen a herd of elk once on the way to Sequim.
“There are probably lots of rabbits and a few deer,” Wade replied, disappointing him. “One day I spotted a coyote when I was eating my lunch, but they’re pretty skittish. And there’s an eagle’s nest in the top of an old dead tree called a spar. You can see it from the site.”
Just then, the woods got thinner and Jordan could see the houses. One of them looked normal, but the other reminded him of a skeleton made out of wood. On the roof, a guy wearing a hard hat was on his hands and knees. He was making a bang, bang, bang noise.
“Wow.” Jordan sat up straighter as he nearly forgot about the man he was going to meet. “They’re right on the beach.” A kid who lived here could have a tree house in the woods and a little sailboat for the water, too. There was even room for a horse if you fenced some of the flat, open part.
Wade pulled up next to two other trucks and a black Harley. Nearby stood a skinny little building made of plastic. Harold’s Honey Buckets was printed on the door with a phone number under it. He knew it was like a portable bathroom, so the workers didn’t have to run into the woods to take a leak.
“These places are going to be terrific when Steve’s done,” Wade said as he cut the engine. “His houses are pretty fancy.”
Steve. Jordan swallowed hard at the reminder, but then a funny thing happened. His nervousness was replaced by curiosity. Ben, his best friend back home, had the same brown eyes and hooked nose as his dad. This would be Jordan’s chance to find out if he looked like Steve. Even though his blond hair and blue eyes were a lot like his mom’s, the idea that he could also resemble someone he’d never met was kind of weird.
Wade didn’t immediately open his door. Instead he released his seat belt and shifted so that he was facing Jordan.
“You okay?” Wade asked.
Jordan had an idea of what the question really meant, even though he didn’t have the nerve to ask right out if Wade knew whether or not Steve was his father. “You aren’t going to say anything to him about, about—” he stammered, not ready to discuss it yet.
Wade shook his head. “Don’t worry.” He reached behind the seat and pulled out a file folder. “The only thing we’re going to talk about today is houses, I promise.”
Jordan felt a wave of relief, like after he had cleared a jump on his board without falling. It was pretty cool how Wade could almost read what he was thinking without him having to explain.
“Okay,” Jordan agreed, unlocking his belt. “I’m ready.”
“Looks like we won’t need you to do the rough-in until the end of next week.” As Steve talked to the electrician on his cell phone, he paced back and forth across the floor of the future kitchen. He barely heard the steady thunk of Carlos’s nail gun overhead or the whine of George’s saw.
“I’ll get back to you on Monday,” Steve promised the electrician as he noticed Wade’s truck coming slowly down the drive. “Thanks.”
After Steve had ended the call and stuffed the phone into his shirt pocket, he jotted a reminder to himself on his clipboard. The next two items on his punch list, calls to the cable outfit and the roofing supplier, could wait until after he took a break.
Steve flipped up the page and added another item to the second list he was writing: plan bachelor party. He didn’t see Wade as the type who wanted a stripper, so he figured that something including bars and booze would work.