Starting Over (Treading Water Trilogy) (12 page)

“I’ll be up after lunch. Will that do?”

Primed for a fight, she seemed unprepared for his easy capitulation. “Fine.” She turned and stalked down the hallway to the stairs.

Brandon bent his head around the doorframe to watch her go. “
Mmm
, mmm,
mmm
, that is one saucy lady.”

“That’s one
cranky
lady,” Dennis said from behind him.

Brandon turned to his father. “It’s okay, Da. You can come out now. I took care of the scary girl for you.”

“Shut up.”

“Who is she?”

“I told you, the tenant from hell. Thank God she’s your problem now.”

“What’s her
name
?”

“Daphne Van something. I have it written down at home next to the forty-six messages she’s left me in the last two weeks.”

“Why did you ignore her? She said she’s got a kid. That’s not like you.”

“She yells at me.”

That did it. Brandon threw his head back and roared with laughter.

“What the hell is so funny?” Dennis asked, insulted.

When Brandon finally caught his breath, he wiped the tears but not the smile off his face. Damn, it was good to be home. “Six-foot-four-inch Dennis O’Malley. Scared of a girl. I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“I was going to buy you lunch, but the hell with you,” Dennis huffed, pushing past his son and out the door.

Brandon followed him. “I’ll let you buy me lunch because you’re getting my slave labor at this place, so it’s the least you can do. And now that I know you’re scared of one of the
girl
tenants, my price just went up.”

“You have your laughs, sonny boy, but we’ll see who’s laughing when you’ve been dealing with that woman for a week or two. Yes, we’ll just see who’s laughing then.”

 

Chapter 11, Day 31

Brandon was tightening the final bolt under Daphne’s sink when her keys jangled in the door. He heard her speaking in a low, controlled tone to a young child, and he decided to stay put until they discovered him. Lying flat on his back, he watched small, pudgy hands pull off bright red sneakers and drop them with a clunk onto the wood floor.

He’d been pleasantly surprised to find the third-floor apartment to be warm and inviting, in definite contrast to his first impression of the woman who lived here. The furniture wasn’t expensive, but it was cozy. Lampshades with beaded fringe, colorful throw pillows, and bright yellow paint gave the living room a cheerful atmosphere. Candles sat on every surface along with a dozen framed photographs, but since he felt like an intruder, he hadn’t stopped to study them. Toys were piled in one corner and an art easel occupied another. Clearly, the child who lived here was the center of his or her mother’s life.

“Mike!” Daphne said. “Put those wet sneakers on the mat. You’re making puddles on the floor.”

Lighten up, Mom
, Brandon thought.
Boys will be boys
. After the sneakers landed again—hopefully this time where they belonged—he heard little feet running in his direction, saw denim-clad legs come into the kitchen, and laughed when they came to a dead stop.


MOM!
” the child shrieked. “A man lost his legs in our kitchen!”

Daphne came running in. “Come out of there,” she said in the same firm tone she’d used to handle the dripping sneakers. “Right now.”

Brandon slid out from under the sink and sat up to find two furious, gorgeous, blonde females—one all grown up and the other just getting started—standing with their hands on their hips and their identical golden brown eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“What’re you doing in my apartment?” they asked in stereo.

Brandon looked up at them from where he sat on the floor. “You said you wanted your sink fixed. Well, it’s fixed.”

“I didn’t say you could come in here when I wasn’t home,” Daphne said.

“Actually, you did when you signed the lease.” He got up, turned on the water, and tested his handiwork by washing his hands. “See? There you go. Good as new.”

“Who are you?” miniature Daphne asked. She wore denim overalls, a long-sleeved red shirt that matched her rosy cheeks, and her blonde ringlets were contained in pigtails.

“Who are
you
?” Brandon retorted as he dried his hands on his jeans.

“I asked first.”

He smiled. The kid had spunk like her mother. “Brandon O’Malley,” he said, extending a hand to her.

She grinned with pleasure at being treated like a grown-up and shook his hand. “I’m Mike Van Der Meer, and I’m five years old.”

He sized her up. “I would’ve guessed six, and I hate to tell you, short stuff, but Mike
ain’t
a girl’s name.”

She crossed her arms over the bib of her overalls and narrowed her eyes again. “I’ll be six in May, Mike
is
a girl’s name, and
ain’t
ain’t
a word.”

Brandon laughed. “Well, I guess you told me.”

“Mike, don’t be fresh,” Daphne admonished.

“Is that your artwork all over the fridge?” Brandon asked.

The girl nodded. “I’m a painter.”

“So I see.”

“I can do one for you if you want.”

“My apartment downstairs could definitely use some color.”

“I’ll try to get one done for you.”

Brandon smothered a chuckle at the serious pucker of her lips as she contemplated her busy schedule.

“Go on and play, Mike. I need to talk to Mr. O’Malley.” Daphne scooted the girl to the living room and returned her attention to Brandon. “I really don’t like you being in here when I’m not home. There’s something very big brother about it.”

“You said you were going to report us, and I had no way to know when you’d be back.” He bent over to put his tools away in the red toolbox he’d picked up at home after lunch. “I found the source of the leak in the attic and plugged it. I’ll try to get up here to fix the damage to your ceiling in the next week or so. I also set some mouse traps, and I’ll come back tomorrow to check them.”

Daphne’s eyes darted around the room in search of the traps. “Where are they?”

“Nowhere that little hands can find them, don’t worry. You said you had a kid, and I saw the toys. I’m not a total idiot.”

“Just a partial?” she asked with the barest hint of a smile.

“A joke?” he asked, feigning shock. “Are you making a joke?”

“I’m not a total bitch.”

“Just a partial?”

She laughed, and the sound of it shot through Brandon the way whiskey used to—hot and smooth.

“Touché,” she said. “Thank you for doing the repairs so fast.”

“You’re welcome.”

She leaned back against the counter and tilted her head as she studied him. “You’re a lot more responsive than the other Mr. O’Malley.”

“He’s my father.” Brandon’s pointed look let her know that cracking on the
other
Mr. O’Malley wouldn’t fly with him. “He’s had a lot going on lately.”

 
“Well, he should return his tenants’ phone calls.”

“I’ll be around for the next couple of months doing some renovations on the place. I’ll be living in the apartment downstairs, so if you need anything, let me know.”

“The tenants are talking about the renovations. You should let them know what you have planned. The rest of them are elderly, and stuff like this makes them anxious.” She followed him when he picked up the toolbox and walked into the living room.

“I’ll talk to them. We’re going to paint and do all the kitchens and bathrooms. We’ll make my apartment available while we’re working on your places. If any of you don’t want it done, you don’t have to.”

“Great,” she grumbled.

“We’re trying to fix the place up some. What’s the problem?”

“How long will it take you to jack up the rent to cover the cost?” She nibbled on her thumbnail nervously as she appeared to be doing the math in her head.

“We won’t jack up the rent.”

“Sure.”

Since he knew he couldn’t convince her, he didn’t bother. “See you around, Mike.”

“Bye, Mr. O’Malley,” Mike said from the sofa where she was engrossed in an episode of
Dora the Explorer
.

“Is that really her name?” Brandon whispered.

“Michaela,” Daphne said. “Call her that some time. See what happens.”

“I’ll bet you’d enjoy that.”

“You have
no
idea,” she said, again with a hint of smile that said there might be a softer side buried miles beneath her hard-as-a-rock exterior.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said with a phony smile as he crossed the threshold into the hallway.

“Oh, the pleasure was all mine. Stay out of my apartment.”

Brandon laughed when she slammed the door behind him.
What a piece of work!

 

He was still thinking about Daphne and Mike when he drove home to shower and change for dinner at Erin’s house. The family was having a welcome-home party for him, but it had been billed as “just dinner.” He planned to humor them for an hour or two before he came home to pack what he would take to the apartment the next day. Why his father was insisting he live there was anyone’s guess, but Brandon wasn’t going to fight it. He knew he needed to shake things up to keep from sliding into old habits.

The phone was ringing when he came in through the garage, and he lunged for the kitchen extension. “I’m coming!”

“Brandon? Hey, it’s Alan.”

“Oh, sorry, Alan. I figured this had to be either my mother or my sister confirming
again
that I’m coming to dinner.”

Alan chuckled. “How’s it going?”

“Today was a good day. I went to a meeting, found a sponsor, had lunch with my dad, got yelled at by a total babe, met a cute kid, and got some work done. Now I’m heading to dinner at my sister’s.”

“I’m impressed. Not a bad first day on the outside.”

“Yeah, it was busy, but I think staying busy will help me.”

“As long as you’re not busy doing what you used to do. So you got a sponsor, huh?”

“Yeah, it was the weirdest thing. I walked into an AA meeting and ran into my high school swim coach. He’s been in AA for twenty-five years. I never had a clue. Anyway, he agreed to be my sponsor.”

“That’s a really important step. Good for you. Well, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m glad you did. Let’s, uh, have dinner or something. Christ, I was going to say grab a beer.”

“Old habits die hard,” Alan said. “But they
do
die. Why don’t you come out to the house for dinner some night? I’d love for you to meet my wife and daughters.”

“That’d be great, Alan. I’ll give you a call next week.”

As Brandon set down the phone, he tried to remember the last time he made a new friend who wasn’t a drinking buddy. It felt good to know there were people out there who were wishing him well and who’d be there for him if he stumbled. Maybe that’s what all this higher power stuff was about, he thought, as he sat on his bed to take off his work boots. He lay back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling.

“God, give me the strength to get through this night with my family,” he whispered, expecting the earth to move or a bolt of lightning to come slashing through the window. But when half a minute passed without any sign of divine displeasure at his pathetic attempt at prayer, he got up to take a shower.

 

Every light was on in Erin’s large Victorian home, which was located less than a mile from Brandon’s parents’ house on Shore Road. Erin and Tommy used a big chunk of the inheritance from Sarah that Aidan shared with his family for the down payment on a house and a neighborhood they otherwise could not have afforded. Tommy had done a ton of work to the place, and the result was a comfortable, chaotic environment.

The driveway looked like a used car lot, and Brandon groaned when he realized he was the last to arrive. His parents’ silver Cadillac, Colin’s company truck, and Declan’s Mustang were in the driveway behind Tommy’s company truck and Erin’s minivan. Brandon parked his truck in front of the house, took a deep breath, and made his way up the walk.

Erin came bursting out of the door, ran down the stairs, and leaped into his arms.

“Jesus, you almost knocked the wind out of me, woman.” Brandon planted a noisy kiss on the top of her strawberry blonde head as she clung to him.

“Good to see you,” she whispered into his neck.

He held her for a long moment before he put her back down. “Tell me you’re not crying.”

She wiped her face. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Despite the eight years between them, Brandon had shared a special bond with his baby sister until his drinking and her growing family took them in opposite directions.

Erin hooked her arm through his to lead him up the stairs. The family was gathered in the living room, and the first thing Brandon noticed was how stiff they all seemed as one by one they got up to greet him. He hugged and kissed his mother, who was also weepy. Dec enveloped him in a warm hug.

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