What We Find Page 117

“So it’s all good,” Tom said. “Want a Coke?”

“Thanks, that’d be great. Can you tell me about this house? I thought you had part of a house?”

“Eighteen years ago. Not quite half. We had our own entrance to the second floor from a staircase out back. Mrs. Berkshire had a small galley kitchen installed and we didn’t need much more than that. We had two rooms on the second floor, two on the third or attic floor. It was perfect for us. Especially when the kids were little. We fixed it up. And I helped Mrs. Berkshire with everything she needed. My dad and brother even pitched in a lot because Mrs. Berkshire was older than dirt and her son didn’t pay her any attention at all. We were all she had. We even put on a new roof. Then she died about ten years ago and left me the house.” He shook his head and laughed. “Her son didn’t like that much. He tried fighting it. But her will stuck. So we started tearing down walls and making it one house.”

“Tom, it’s beautiful.”

“Well, I work construction when I can. And I do a lot of built-ins for rich folks up on the ridge. Those are my best jobs.”

“But this is incredible. How’d you do it?”

“Well, hell, Cal—I had eighteen years to work on it! And my dad and brother helped. I had four kids and just got by the best I could—they were awful generous with their time. I try to help my folks and brother, too. You know, when we all work on the same team, stuff gets done.”

Cal finished his sandwich and asked for a tour of the house and was astonished by the finishing detail work, not to mention the fact that a man and four kids lived in the house and it was spotless. “I run a tight ship,” Tom said. “I have to.”

“I think you’re amazing.”

“Cal, what’s going on with my wife?” Tom asked.

Cal put his hands in his pockets and looked squarely at Tom. “I’m not at liberty to share our professional conversation, Tom. That’s the law—I could lose my license over it. But I can tell you a couple of things you already know, the most important being—she’s not your wife anymore, Tom. And you told me yourself—this isn’t the first time. That’s just fact.”

“She said it was always a misunderstanding...”

Cal just looked at Tom, great sympathy in his heart for the man.

“I’ve been kidding myself, haven’t I?”

Cal didn’t respond because he couldn’t.

“Becky is one of the sweetest, most considerate women I’ve ever known,” Tom said. “She’s so loving and kind. She really cares about her kids and the kids love her.”

“She’s their mother,” Cal said. “While not all mothers are so wonderful, I’m glad to know she’s a loving mother.”

“But...?”

“Tom, you’re going to have to figure this out for yourself. I wish I could somehow make this easier for you but the truth is, there’s nothing more I can tell you. I’m just glad we managed to work out this court case so neatly. You’re going to have to take it from here.”

“I’ll pay you somehow.” He laughed uncomfortably. “I don’t even know what a lawyer gets for a case like this.”

Cal put a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about that, buddy. We’re friends. We help each other when we can. Right?”

“Right. Well,” he said, rubbing a hand around the back of his neck. “Thanks for everything. I really appreciate it.”

* * *

July ended toasty and warm, the lake was refreshing and the landscape was lush. The garden was plentiful and since his schedule wasn’t demanding most days, Cal was out on the trails several times a week for a few hours. He came across the search-and-rescue team running exercises along the mountain face, climbing a steep rock and rappelling down. He watched Jackson training with them for a while, wearing his rock climbing rigging proudly.

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