I pulled up the drive to Tate’s home. Arriving there after work was a lot different from coming home to the little apartment Ruby and I shared. I frequently pulled into the parking lot at the same time others also got home, but we didn’t wave or chat. We all trudged from our cars with our heads down, each in our own little world. Mine was full of exhaustion and depression. I’m sure my neighbors’ were as well.
But things were different here.
Allan limped across the yard. He and Tate were still talking. By the time I got out of the car, Allan was on the back porch. He waved at me as he went inside. Tate, leaning on the barn door, waved me over to him.
With a quick glance over his shoulder, he leaned in and kissed me. It was a quick peck, but I liked it. I liked the whole idea of coming home to someone who smiled and kissed me.
“How was work?” Tate asked.
“Work was work. Mac didn’t come in, and Will still treats me like I’m an idiot, but nothing’s changed. Is Allan okay? He’s limping.” Allan worked hard to not limp. The average person had no idea he walked on a prosthetic leg.
“He’s worn out, headed to bed early. That means you and I are making dinner,” Tate said with a heavy exhalation.
He sounded tired. He had a smear of dirt up the side of his face.
“Kenzie, you need to see this!” Ruby bubbled as she came out of the depths of the barn. Grabbing my hand, she pulled me into the dark.
It took a while for my eyes to adjust. I couldn’t see where she was taking me, so I had to trust she wasn’t leading me into some kind of a prank.
“Look at this place,” she declared.
I had to blink a few times to force my eyes to adjust. Ruby came into focus first. She was a mess. I reached out for her hair, to brush some of the cobwebs from it.
“You cut your bangs again,” I said as I plucked leaves and debris from her.
“Whatever, look at this.” She turned in a circle with her arms spread wide.
“I am. I have no idea what I’m looking at, but I’m looking.”
“I think she is more excited about all of this than I am.” Tate chuckled.
“Show her!” Ruby urged. She pushed against Tate’s back. He barely rocked back and forth with her jostling.
“This is what Ruby is so excited about.” Tate strode to the far end of the room.
They had set up rows of LEDs along opposite walls, so the space was well lit. The corners and the walls themselves were still in the dark, but from what I could see were shelves loaded with boxes. There were boxes everywhere. But not cardboard boxes, wood boxes. I guess they would technically be crates. But some of the boxes had legs.
Furniture. “Is this the workshop you thought was underneath all the junk?” I asked as I realized what I was standing in.
“Yes!” Ruby really was excited. “It wasn’t under the junk, it was behind it. A secret wall.”
“I doubt it was a secret wall.” Tate chuckled.
“It totally was a secret wall,” Ruby retorted.
I pointed to the boxes that I now realized were workstations. “And these are the worktables?”
“Tool bench, table saw, that one is a lathe under the tarp. It’s a genuine workshop. High-end for the time period with all of these power tools.”
“But show her!” Ruby was really getting tired of prompting Tate to show me whatever it was she needed him to put on display.
“Fine. You want to stand over there.” Tate pointed to the side wall.
I stepped to the side, and he leaned over a bright red and black box that I could tell was modern. It hummed to life. A very not modern set of wheels was next to it with a long piece of, well, it looked like belt webbing. A long piece of belt webbing that went from the old wheels up to more wheels attached to a pole. Tate’s gaze followed the webbing up to the ceiling.
I followed his gaze. “Oh, wow.”
Dust and dirt, and who knows what else, began raining from the ceiling. Specifically, from the long pole that had started rotating. That explained the crap in Ruby’s hair.
The generator did its thing and made the wheels go round, and apparently, that’s all it needed to do. Those wheels were the key to the entire system. They drove the belt that turned the shaft in the ceiling.
“All those flywheels,” Tate pointed out, “used to have belts attached to them that would then drive the motor on these.” He patted on one of the work benches.
“Basic engines,” I said.
“What do you know about engines?” Ruby quipped.
“Sewing machines,” I answered. “This whole room is like a giant sewing machine. Only instead of punching a needle through fabric, it’s designed to turn a lathe or make the table saw do its thing. This is super cool.” I understood her enthusiasm. “What are you going to do with it?”
Tate shoved his hands in his pockets and watched the mechanism continue to work.
“I’ve been thinking about that. I think I want to restore it, and then use it.”
“It’s a lot of work,” I said.
“You’re not kidding. All we did today was get this drive up and running,” Ruby agreed.
“Yeah, and I am done.” Tate leaned over and powered down the generator. “I’ll have to figure out a more permanent power supply. Everything needs to be cleaned and greased, but it should work just fine. Come on, we should get cleaned up so we can help with dinner.”
Ruby groaned. She would be willing to work for Tate and his amazing workshop. It was cool and new. I understood. Dinner was boring and normal.
I hefted the tote bag I had over my shoulder. “Why don’t you finish up before you come inside to clean up? I want to shower and get out of my work clothes before I start dinner.”
“Why? You’re just going to smell like whatever you cook,” Ruby pointed out.
“Yeah, but I’d much rather smell like garlic and onions that fry grease.”
“What’s for dinner?” she asked as I started to walk out of the workshop.
“Whatever Tate has in his kitchen,” I answered.
I had no idea what to expect for food. I was just happy to have remembered to throw a change of clothes into a bag earlier so I could change after work, since I knew I was coming over after work. I had thought Allan was going to cook. The man had skills. But I was okay in the kitchen.
After my shower, I started to poke around and see what Tate and Allan had stocked. Chicken, ground beef, ground pork, zucchini—the fridge had plenty of meat, and enough fresh vegetables to impress me. Canned veggies tended to be cheaper, and I could get them at the Helping Hands Food Closet. But I liked the taste of fresh so much better.
When our situation changed, when I had a better job, I wanted only fresh vegetables. Even if it seemed unrealistic. After all, tomato sauce came in a can. And in jars.
“Ooh,” I said out loud as I discovered that Tate had the good spaghetti sauce. I knew what I was making.
I pulled everything out that I would need onto the counters and set up the pots I would need. Even jarred sauce tastes better when it can simmer for a long time, so I started that. I set it to low and tossed in a few extra spices.
I started to chop onion and garlic for the meatballs. I could see Tate and Ruby out in the yard. They were playing frisbee and laughing. She had spent all day here. And she was still having fun. If she hadn’t been here, she would have been stuck at home, going out while I wasn’t there and probably getting into trouble. She would have been bored and lonely if she couldn’t find anyone to hang out with.
The transition from kid to preteen was a hard one. She was officially too old for the school-provided after hours care. That had been the only way I had been able to afford daycare for her while I worked. And now, everyone considered her old enough to take care of herself. She had gone from spending all day with friends to being on her own every afternoon and weekend. I knew it had to suck for her.
How different would everything be if this were our life?
Somehow, the game of frisbee had turned into chase and keep away. I laughed. Tate was letting Ruby win.
Ruby needed Tate almost as much as I did. He was a natural big brother. Hell, he was almost like a father to her. Something she didn’t have. I blinked back tears as the unfairness of it all hit me. Ruby deserved parents who loved her and could give her a better life, but she was stuck with an older sister who was struggling with everything.
Ruby crashed into the kitchen first, followed by Tate.
“Why are you crying?” she demanded.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “Onions,” I said.
With a shrug, she continued to barrel into the living room.
Tate came up to me. He reached out and ran a thumb over my cheek. “What’s the matter?”
My heart welled up. He knew it wasn’t onions. I shook my head. How did I tell this man that I wanted to be a family with him without making it sound like I was only after his house and what he could emotionally provide for my sister? How did I tell him that I was falling in love with him?
