One Door Closes (13 page)

“You okay to talk?”

Danny frowned, but Devon’s arrival announced itself with the abrasive creak of flooring, and Calvin moved out of the doorway. Danny looked from one to the other of them. His expression held only a ghost of curiosity, and much more wariness.

Calvin took another chair with a sigh, flattening his hands to the tabletop and wondering what was going to happen to it. Sold in the estate sale that Audrey had never had, or delivered to the bank to pay off part of the mortgage? Dumped into a storage unit upstate? Would the table and chairs be split up or sold together? If the set had any worth at all, they might have put the money toward the renovation. The thought of giving up the table their mother had always owned was repulsive.

“Look,” Calvin said, “we need to figure out what we’re going to do tomorrow.”

Danny’s glass scraped as he pushed it away and stood. Calvin thought he was going to leave, but he just walked to the window, keeping his back to the room. Calvin had the impression that Danny didn’t want them to see his face.

“I got my car loan.”

“That’s good, right?” Danny asked, but Calvin shook his head.

“It’s eighteen thousand. That’s barely enough for the flooring. I’m putting together grant applications, but the only way we’re getting them is if we aim this place at what it was.”

The room was heavily silent. Devon’s eyes pierced. “You want to foster.”

“Foster?” Danny came away from the window. “Have kids here again?”

“It’s the only way we’ll ever get funding for the house. Even if the place is fixed up, keeping it that way will cost a lot. Audrey used to apply and receive grants regularly, but I’ve been looking at her old applications. The only way she ever got the money was by committing the place as a foster home for long stretches. Once she signed on for a decade.” He glanced at both of them. “When I was here.”

“How soon could we get a grant?” Danny asked.

Calvin sighed. “It could take months. That’s if my application is any good, and I haven’t finished writing it yet.” He waited just long enough for the lack of sound to hurt. “So. We have under twenty thousand dollars for tomorrow. I think Will needs to be here, at least. He was going to find another contractor—”

“Why?” Devon broke in from the doorway.

It was too complicated to explain. “I don’t know. But he knows the most about the house and the situation, so it should be him. Jerritson, too, if Will manages to get hold of him. As of this afternoon, he hasn’t been able to.” Calvin drew a steadying breath. “So. We have the major danger spots taken care of. The back porch is usable now, and the wiring is well on its way. I’m going to try for a postponement. See if we can’t...I don’t know. Get Pac Western to ease up.”

Danny muttered something caustic. They all knew what the chances were if Angus was directing the plays.

Devon didn’t say a word, just stepped all the way into the room and laid a manila envelope on the table. He tapped it once before sliding back.

“What’s this?” Calvin hadn’t noticed it in Devon’s hand, but then, he hadn’t been too keen on looking at Devon today. Now he searched his older brother’s face but still found no hints. Danny came up behind him as he unwound the string and tipped out a sheaf of crisp paper.

It had official letterhead, a bank chain Calvin only knew in passing, but it wasn’t a loan agreement, it was—

“Oh. Oh, God,” Danny breathed. His hand crept forward and stopped, hovering over Calvin’s where he clutched the papers.

It was an account, in Devon McCade’s name, for a substantial sum of money. More than the amount they’d been denied. Clean lines of numbers and text, and Devon’s bold signature at the bottom, no cosigners.

“Oh my
God
,” Danny exclaimed again. This time he did grab the papers. Calvin let them slide free. He stared up at Devon as Danny ran numbers out loud, incredulous and hushed by turns. Devon looked back and forth between them with mere flicks of his eyes, gauging.

When Danny’s exclamations finally hit a lull, Calvin took the papers back. “Is this from a loan?”

“Part of it.”

“What did you use?”

“My bike.” He made it sound simple, the motorcycle with vintage roots and a nice clean history, obviously loved, well cared for, and never, ever treated as a passing fancy. But Calvin hadn’t thought it was worth this much, not even close. He stared at the sum of money again. Danny gave a murmur of appreciation, but all Calvin could see was the total amount.

“Devon, what if we can’t repay it?” He’d lose the bike, probably more.

Devon slipped his hands into his pockets. “Then I’ll deal with it. But we will repay it. A little planning, we’ll be fine.” He shifted from foot to foot, and the way his eyes skittered had Calvin tightening in anticipation. “I also put in some of my own funds. Stuff I wasn’t going to touch for a while. It’s no big deal. Just reordered some accounts.”

“Are we talking certificate of deposit accounts?” Did Devon pay some exorbitant fee to withdraw from a thirty-year retirement fund he’d been adding to?

“Trust me, it’s not a big deal. I can afford it.” He tapped the paper again. “The main account’s open. I put both of you on as members. You can do what you feel is safest, but if you want to put your loan money in there, Angus won’t be able to touch it.”

Calvin looked again at the papers, as if it would change what was printed there. “You can’t do this on your own, it’s too much.”

“Cal?”

The first time either of them had ever used his nickname. Calvin found Devon’s look startlingly expressive.

“You’re right. You
were
right. It wasn’t my first choice to come back here, and I didn’t make an effort to hide that. I’m not invested in this place, not like you are. Or you, Danny.” Devon’s mouth shivered, a flash skittering out of reach. “It’s hard to be in some of these rooms, you know? Because I walked away from them, and her, and it’s like this place knows how much I still owe her. I never really got why Audrey kept such a huge money-suck of a house, and why she gave part of it to me...” His nose scrunched and he shook his head. “But I can’t argue that she loved this place. The only things she loved more were the kids she raised here. And she made something really great out of it, and I do not want to be the one who could have saved it, the one who threw it out instead. I don’t think I could look myself in the face, and I certainly couldn’t look either of you in the face.”

Danny made a sound, but Devon leaned in, bracing his arms on the table. “I have more money than I have things to use it on. And I wonder what exactly I’m saving it for, if not this. So this is what I want to do. I’m all in now, whatever happens. For us, and for Audrey.”

Calvin forced himself to stay still, to not look away. Maybe it was time to trust in each other’s strengths, and not assume, as always, that he had to heft the whole load. He drew a deep breath and still felt like he was shorting himself on air. “
Thank
you. I don’t know how to say it.”

Devon’s eyes dropped, a flinch. He cleared his throat, then cocked his head and smiled. “I wish I could say it was entirely my doing. Will can be very...very convincing.”

Calvin’s chest filled and hollowed out again in a soundless rush. Devon’s smile grew more introspective, almost private, and the emptiness reverted resolutely into that deep-seated ache.

“I still can’t believe you have this much,” Danny stated. “From freelance photography?”

“For mine. Years of it. I’ve invested it well. I’m kind of stingy with my funds.” Devon’s shoulders hitched. “I asked Will what we would need. To cover what absolutely needed to be done, and to keep the place the way it was meant to look.”

Calvin returned to the account document rather than reveal anything internal. “Yeah. He’s a good guy.”

“He’s a
great
guy,” Danny said, the grin in his voice. “He should really find some reason to stick around. You know?”

It was a good thing the two of them could laugh. At that moment, Calvin only felt capable of the opposite. He concentrated on Devon’s wide smile and tried not to feel split by every inch of it.

* * *

“Ten minutes.” Devon looked at his watch. The repetitive drum of Danny’s fingers against the porch railing edged in on Calvin’s calm.

“If Angus gets here first—” Danny started.

“Won’t matter,” Calvin said. “As long as they show up at some point.”

But it wouldn’t hold up as well. Calvin wanted the fortified ground like the burn of air in lungs too long deprived. Angus’s grip was tightly clenched, and if he’d found some way to undercut Devon as well, they wouldn’t have any options left.

There are always options.
An echo from a dream he could only remember around the edges. The voice was comforting, the rhythm of the words so very familiar, and even the thought of encroaching psychoses could not drown the clarity the memory gave.

An instant after Calvin registered the sound of the truck, Danny lurched up from where he leaned against the railing, and all three of them turned down the drive. Will’s pickup wheeled through the gate and ground to a stop. Will threw open his door immediately, but the passenger side opened more slowly and a man Calvin remembered as much younger and taller climbed out.

“Mr. Jerritson?” Devon said, already halfway there with his hand extended. Will closed in from the right, and Calvin and Danny both pulled up, leaving the trio to form a small, exclusive huddle. Calvin had the sense of dream time again, watching Devon stride right into the space he himself had been so used to holding but never fully enjoying. There was no hesitancy in Devon’s manner, no reticence in voice or gesture.

“We have the new contract.” Will held up an official-looking black folder with Jerritson’s logo across one side. “Spent all night working out the kinks.”

Devon reached for the pen Will held. “Are we all signing it?”

“Just you.” Jerritson nodded to Calvin and Danny. “Nothing against you two. Will and your brother here have outlined what we’re dealing with, and I’d just as soon not open up another door for him.”

Calvin met Danny’s sickened look. The way Jerritson had said
him
held a universe of unpleasant familiarity. “So you’ve definitely dealt with Eric Angus before.”

“Once,” Jerritson said, and directed his attention back to the contract, giving Devon brief explanations when needed. Devon initialed each page and signed quickly with Will looking over his shoulder, close enough to touch him.

It didn’t
matter
anymore. If it meant keeping his mother’s—their mother’s—house, he could stone up that wall for good, like he should have done ages ago, and start building something new on his side of it.

No sooner had Devon handed back the pen than Angus’s classy white Mercedes rolled into view and turned in behind Will’s truck. Instead of stopping, however, the car veered off, heedless of the driveway’s border, and halted on the yard itself, bending the grass flat beneath the tires. Danny’s scowl matched the one Calvin was sure he wore. Will looked incensed, Devon irritated, but Jerritson’s expression was closed off, attentive to their new arrival.

Angus straightened his suit jacket with a brisk tug as he got out. He raised his eyebrows at their motley group, but came forward with a smile. His eyes were cool, well settled. “Reinforcements?”

“Professional courtesy,” Jerritson said, and Angus’s pace slowed. For the first time since Calvin had met him, he looked bothered. He studied the older man for a moment, then took a perusal of all of them again, latent awareness in his eyes.

“Mr. Jerritson. Pleasure.”

“I think you should move your vehicle.”

Angus glowered. “And I don’t think that’s anything you need to worry about.” He turned to Calvin. “It’s Friday, let’s not drag this out.”

“Not selling,” Calvin managed.

“By my understanding, the property is just passing hands.” Angus spread his to demonstrate. “The exchange of goods is not covered by the agreement.”

“The owners’ contract with my company supersedes your agreement,” Jerritson interrupted, and Angus looked at him again as if he were physically pained by having to acknowledge him. Jerritson was much older than Angus, hair mostly gray, and looked as if he were aware that his age had added a frailty to his features. But he was stocky, still solid, and contained a sense of ready movement from somewhere hard to define. Not someone to be walked over.

“A work contract of this magnitude requires funding,” Angus said with condescending idleness. “Significant resources that the current homeowners do not have.”

“Then they shouldn’t have signed the paperwork.” Jerritson flicked it to draw Angus’s eye.

The property developer’s gaze tightened in on the white packet. “And how exactly will you be funding this venture?” His tone was severe.

“Personal loan,” Devon replied, so promptly that Angus blinked. He opened his mouth and looked at Calvin. His expression went hunted, then outright furious.

“That’ll never cover such a massive—”

Devon held up the account paperwork, folded over so that his personal information wasn’t visible. The ensuing silence felt dense enough to grasp, and though Angus didn’t say anything, his anger built palpably.

“I think we’re just fine,” Devon murmured. Angus’s frame tensed. He raised his eyes back to Devon’s face, and Calvin saw the unbridled threat coming.

“Be careful what you say next, Eric,” Jerritson said. Will inched closer to Devon’s side, drawing to his full height. “I’d hate for someone to misconstrue your purpose for being here.”

The look Angus shot Jerritson was absolutely poisonous, but also frustrated. The banked energy in his eyes dug at Calvin’s belly. “I’m not entirely sure what
your
purpose is here.”

“I’m personally overseeing this project. I don’t think your expertise will be needed.”

Angus looked from him to Will, then to Calvin and Danny. He outright scowled at Devon. And backed up, one finger pointing Calvin’s way.

“Construction stops for a
day
,” he said, “I’ll be knocking at your door.”