One Door Closes (6 page)

“It’s okay, I get it.” A tolerant smile whipped across Will’s lips. “I’m a housing contractor. I know all the hoops.”

Calvin shuffled, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for Will. Something about this place pushed him squarely back an entire decade, thinning the space between them. “I should...” He thumbed over his shoulder and Will nodded quickly.

“Yeah. Yeah.” He nodded again and retreated into the house. Calvin made himself turn. Go outside. Not stare after Will.

* * *

“
Calvin Ware
,
stop walking!
”

He stops without meaning to, and frowns down at his dirty tennis shoes, the right one half in a puddle. Damn it, his own body refuses to disobey that tone.

The truck’s engine rumbles loudly up beside him, brakes squealing on the stop. Audrey leans bodily across the front seat, hand still on the passenger-side window crank. In the back half of the cabin, Calvin can see the youngest foster kid who has ever lived in the house, Keith, slumped heavily against the side of his car seat in sleep. Audrey stares out the window at him. The curls that have escaped her ponytail tumble across her forehead.

“
What in God’s name are you doing?
”

He shrugs and looks away, squinting into the wind. She struggles with the latch, and the truck’s door clunks heavily as it releases, swings out and reels back to settle against the frame.

“
School ended five hours ago!
Are you all right
,
are you hurt?
”

Not in any way he wants to talk about. “
I’m fine
.”

She nods slowly. The truck gives a shudder as the wind gusts. “
Okay.
That’s...okay.
Honey
,
did you stay late?
Did you have detention?
”

His throat closes as he thinks about where he was. He turns away from the truck, knowing she’ll notice, knowing she’ll see his face if he doesn’t. His arms feel numb even under his sweatshirt, and he’s glad of his hood. Can’t really feel much detail concerning his thighs, they’re so cold. Fucking jeans.

“
Calvin
,
why didn’t you come home?
I
sent Bryce out on his bike.
”

He could just keep walking, but she’d only pace him and pull up alongside him again. “
Yeah
,
bet that worked.
How long did he take to come back from the mini mart?
”

She’s silent. Just the wind thrashing the trees and the engine rumbling. He’s lucky it hasn’t started pouring. When he looks over, she’s staring out the windshield, chewing her lip. The passenger door bounces as the wind sucks at it.

“
I
need to know what’s going on
,” she says finally.

“
Nothing’s going on.
I
felt like a walk.
”

“
Were you at Will’s?
”

He hunches so sharply it hurts his spine, and shoves his hands into his sweatshirt pocket in an attempt to hide it. “
No
,” he growls too harshly—God, he’s so bad at this, not like the oldest boys, the ones who can always talk out one side of their mouths and look so innocent. Calvin forces his shoulders to relax. If he looks at her, she’ll see it all on him.

But maybe, says a small voice inside, that’s the best thing right now, maybe she’ll see it and know, and he won’t have to tell her what happened. He hangs in limbo, and finally looks up, hesitant but ready to meet her eyes.

She presses her fingers hard against her brow and squeezes her eyes shut. “
Baby
,
I’m sorry
,
I
don’t know what to do with this.
I
need to get back
,
will you please get in?
”

Disappointment slithers in, thick and robust. He gapes at her. Points down Lantern Lane into the darkness. “
Mom
,
I’m walking home.
”

The snap of her mood is visible. “
Calvin
,
get in the truck right now.
”

In the backseat, the toddler jumps, limbs flying up and drifting back down as he fails to wake. It’s that as much as Audrey’s order that decides Calvin, the circles visible under her eyes from Keith rousing at all hours of the night. Knowing he might wake Keith up even now, and feeling wretched about it.

Calvin grabs the door handle, yanks it open and pulls up onto the seat. Slams the door mutinously anyway and doesn’t turn around to see if the baby wakes. But Audrey just shoves the stick into drive before he has his belt on, as if afraid he’ll leap out again. Her mouth is a thin line, her eyes fixed forward.

They pull into the drive and go inside without a word, Audrey somehow extricating Keith from the backseat quickly enough to follow Calvin’s angry stride. He curses his backpack for getting caught on the seat belt, plans to rip off the offending strap once he gets to his room.

Audrey follows him to his bedroom on the ground floor, Keith drooling against one shoulder. None of his roommates are there. He can hear chatter and the clink of silverware against plates in the kitchen. He sits down on his bed and picks up his book, not facing her.

“
Calvin.
”

Her voice is quiet. He could just shout back, wake the baby up and get rid of her that way. But something even more stubborn sets its teeth and glares disapprovingly at his thoughts. He stays quiet, ignoring her instead.

“
Honey?
”

The light goes soft and different, and the wind is suddenly silent, replaced by the drip of rain. Audrey stands in the doorway of the big upstairs bedroom over the porch, watching him where he sits against his headboard. Her arms are empty, resting at her sides, and the hallway is full of dense darkness behind her. The sounds from the kitchen, from all the other rooms in the house, are gone.

“
What?
”

She sits down on his bed, careful not to touch him. Calvin pulls his bare feet up, leaning on his knees. His toes aren’t cold anymore, the skin of his legs plenty warm. Audrey rubs a palm over his quilt.

“
Baby
,
where did you go that night?
”

He sighs. “
Mom...
”

She’s looking up at him with such sad eyes, as if waiting for a wall to drop between them. She seems so much smaller, shrunken down or wasted away somehow.

She’s...looking up at him. Calvin blinks. Frowns down at his feet again and wiggles his toes.

“
Please tell me what happened.
”

“
I
don’t even know what happened.
How can I tell you?
”

“
Sometimes it helps to talk it out.
Look at it from the outside.
” She waits, and he waits, and the rain patters on. “
That was the night
,
wasn’t it?
When you and Will—
”

“
Of course it was.
What else could it be?
”

“
Calvin
,
why did you walk home alone?
What did he say to you?
”

He leans away from her. “
I
don’t want to talk about Will right now
,
Mom.
”

“
You need to.
”

He can’t. It still burns away inside his chest like it’s eating into his flesh, his bones and sometimes his heart. “
Too bad.
”

The pressure of her stare grows indefinably deeper. “
Someone needs to.
Calvin?
”

He shakes his head. Why won’t she just let it go?

“
Calvin.
”

* * *

He jolted awake, flinging a hand across the mattress and blinking into the darkness. For a moment, he couldn’t think where he was. The outline of the window on his right swam into relief, the familiar fall of the curtains blocking all but an ambient glow that shifted with the rain beyond the glass.

“Calvin.”

A male voice, not— Calvin coughed, blinked again, and made out someone standing just inside his bedroom door, framed by the light out in the hallway. He struggled upright, pulling the blanket up with him and trying to get his other arm free. “Danny?”

A soft snort came from the outline of his brother. “Finally. You were really sleeping then?”

“What—” He had to swallow, clear the clot away. “What else would I be doing?”

Danny’s outline shrugged. “I have no idea, man. I could hear you from down on the front porch.”

Calvin looked at the window again, registering that it was open, just a little. Fresh air curled in, limned with the scent of wet earth. He felt himself flush heavily and was glad of the darkness. “Hear me what?”

“Who were you talking to?” Danny’s tone sounded peculiar, almost trembling.

“Just a stupid dream.” He looked past Danny into the hall, scandalized by a new possibility. “Where’s Devon?”

Danny followed Calvin’s gaze over his own shoulder. “Not here. I don’t know where he is tonight.”

Calvin longed to drag his alarm clock over and reveal the face in the light from the window, but couldn’t bring himself to relinquish Danny’s attention. It felt like a capitulation of some sort, ground he couldn’t afford to lose. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Danny hesitated and Calvin sighed.

“It was just a dream.”

Danny didn’t answer, but eventually he nodded and backed out of the room. A moment later, the hall light went off. Calvin collapsed back onto his bed. His heart still thumped hard, his veins feeling too narrow for the blood they ferried.

Chapter Four

Outside the gate, the kids got into cars one by one. Calvin stood on the porch, tugging his jacket tightly around his torso and trying not to fidget. The false spring had fled once more, pulling a chill wind in its wake. Behind him, the front door groaned like a beast in pain as it tried to swing open, and he reached back, closing it firmly. Heat cost money.

Glenna waved from out in the road and pushed off with one foot, guiding her skateboard along the curb. She arced deftly out of the way of a departing car and vanished behind the trees that lined the property. The green tail of her scarf was the last to go.

Calvin looked at the final group member on the steps beside him. “You sure you don’t need a ride?”

Taggert Sommersby turned large, elfin eyes quickly away. “No, it’s fine. Dad’ll be here any minute.”

“You want to wait inside? It’s warmer.”

Taggert shrugged under a coat far too large for his frame. Hard to remember the kid was fifteen, he was so slight. Almost as if he’d missed out on nutrients at a crucial age. Calvin had wondered about it before, but Tag didn’t seem at odds with his parents, and tonight it was too hard to keep his thoughts on track. He’d spent a whole day at work poring through tiny text and breaking it down into categories for the database, had barely skirted what he suspected was some kind of migraine, and had still left a god-awful pile of letters in his inbox, waiting to be coded. There had been no time to nap afterward, kids coming up his walk even as he pulled up the drive.

Calvin felt crammed full of nervous motion that he couldn’t find a way to vent.
Should have canceled group
, his conscience suggested. But what was the next step, after that? He owed these kids his best despite what was going on in his life, and he couldn’t even manage his own attention span.

He realized he’d missed Tag’s answer, but the kid didn’t make a move to go inside, so Calvin sank back into his thoughts. He roused when he noticed Tag peeking his way again, a long look out the corner of his eye, but before Calvin could muster more than curiosity, another car crunched up the mouth of the drive, the headlights making them both squint. Calvin watched, disoriented, as Tag waved to the driver and pulled his backpack strap over his shoulder.

“Hey,” he finally managed. “See you next week, Tag.”

Tag turned back too fast and almost tripped on his way down the stairs. A rare smile curved his mouth. “Yeah, see you. See you, Calvin.”

Relief pulsed deep as Tag departed, and when the car pulled back into the street, Calvin took advantage of the darkness to collapse a little.

“Cal?”

The light from the front foyer swung out onto the porch, and Calvin turned around, instinctual eagerness at the sound of that voice. But the expression he found on Will’s face was enough to stop any greeting. “What?” he said instead, halfway between two questions.

Will stood in the doorway with his tool belt slung over his shoulder, carpentry bag in one hand. Sweat still dampened the neckline of his shirt in a dark sweep, but it had been much worse earlier. “I’m done for the day. Unless you need anything else?”

It wasn’t until Will’s skin began to flush up his throat that Calvin realized he was staring rather obviously. But it was tough not to. Will looked
tired.
More than just overworked. “You don’t look too good.”

Will brushed a hand over his forehead. “I’m fine. Just didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

Calvin opened his mouth, but Will took a step back. The whole motion was almost a flurry, a momentum that stopped Calvin’s.

“So, if there isn’t anything you need—”

The whole house at his disposal, and he couldn’t think of a single thing to keep Will here. Will’s hands, usually ceaseless in their movement when he spoke, remained still, the one clasped firmly around the handle of his bag. Calvin wondered if he’d done something wrong. It wasn’t overt. But the wariness was plain, the distance Will was keeping between them tonight.

“No,” he said, quiet. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Will nodded, and then,
then
there was the hint of a smile. But it looked more like relief than some kind of offering. He tugged the tool belt further up his shoulder and crossed the porch. Calvin watched him thump down the stairs, his form growing vaguer and vaguer the farther he went away from the light.

Calvin wavered on the porch. His own shadow was already down the steps in Will’s wake, cast long from the light inside. It wouldn’t take much to follow it. But eventually he shook his head. He couldn’t get bogged down here, not with the more pressing issue awaiting him in his work satchel.

Calvin went into the kitchen and made himself some tea, only to sit at the table not drinking it as the mug steamed and steamed. He got out the grant information he’d gotten up early to print before work, the same grants whose acknowledgments he’d found in the boxes Audrey had left in her closet, and laid it out on the table to read.

The process wouldn’t be quick, that was sure, and though he had plenty of templates to work with from Audrey’s files, he’d still need to put together an inspiring application in order to win anything. Angus’s arrival had chopped Calvin’s mental timeline in half. He couldn’t believe he’d been so naïve, expecting Pac Western to sit on the situation for the full time allotted by the council. Of course they would leap on any shortcuts.

Now Calvin had to find a way to stay even. But he was as yet missing the biggest component to receiving a grant: a statement outlining his process for turning the house back into a foster home.

He had little idea what he was doing, and his brain refused to zero in. He could feel himself shying away from it, and it was so frustrating. He wasn’t the world’s greatest go-getter, but he was no longer the kid he’d been either, turning to avoidance to maneuver through problems. Stepping around holes didn’t negate the danger. A hole remained a hole until you filled it with something.

Calvin scrubbed a hand over his forehead. “Come on. Just start with step one.” His mother had managed her own business plan for years, and with a crowd of kids who weren’t even hers milling self-centeredly around her feet. Surely he could manage to deal with this.

His mind, however, wouldn’t stop tracking—money, Will. Money. Will.

Always, inevitably...Will.

Footsteps sounded from the direction of the dining room, too rapid to react to, and another packet of papers smacked down on the table in front of him. Calvin grabbed at his own papers to keep them together.

“You said you weren’t going to sign these!” Danny stabbed a finger at the messy bunch, shoving it all aside. It skidded a foot down the table, Calvin’s paperwork along with it. “Saint Calvin. Figures.”

“Saint—what?” He craned back, trying to find a foothold. “The hell are you talking about?”

Danny pointed again at the mess of papers. “We were going to talk about this.”

It was the draft construction contract. “I didn’t sign them.” Calvin dropped his forehead into his hands. “Will did.”

“
What?
”

He glared up at Danny. “We’re not contractually bound, all right? The developer showed up. The one who was hounding Audrey. Will did it to buy us time.”

Danny’s slump was sudden, his breathing audible in the new silence. “What happens now?”

“I don’t have any idea, but we have until next Friday to figure it out.” He stood—felt like the only thing he did for Danny was storm out on him—but Danny stepped into his path.

“I shouldn’t have overreacted,” his brother started, and Calvin threw up his hands.

“Yes, you should have, what else were you going to do with something like that?” He yanked his fingers through his hair. “
Fuck.
”

“It’s okay, though. Till then. We have time.”

“We have a week. What am I supposed to do with a week?” Except spend every hour feeling more obligated, not to the contract but to Will. It was a feeling he recognized viscerally, the heart-stung ache of it overpowering the excitement, any connection drowning under an old, ugly panic. “You know what, I’ve been trying to find the funding for this since I heard about Audrey, and I still don’t have anything cemented in place. Even if I could submit a grant proposal now—”

“A grant proposal?” Not the confusion over his choice of funding, but rather the confusion of not knowing what a grant proposal was. Calvin gritted his teeth.

“She used them before, when the house was full. But trust me, they’ll take longer than we’ve got. A week is nothing.”

“Look, we can...” Danny half turned, as if the answer lay behind him somewhere, “...go into town tomorrow. Apply for a loan at that bank.”

Calvin rubbed over his face with both hands. He hadn’t done that yet, simply because he had his own bank branch to work with. But this one was local, and Audrey had used it for years. “Well, I damn well hope they give it to us because if they don’t—”

“They will. You have good credit, right?”

His laugh came out strangled. “I don’t have
bad
credit.”

“Well, I don’t have any credit, so. Devon can come with us. How long does it take to process a bank loan?”

Calvin stared. He hadn’t expected Danny to take so much interest in the details. “It depends on the loan.” The town could only boast one bank, a credit union, and— “We’ll probably need an account there first. I don’t have one. Do you?” Danny shook his head. Calvin braced against the table, staring at the pseudo-contract and wishing he didn’t feel like his lungs had been wrapped in a belt. “I doubt Devon does. They’ll have to do some kind of background check.”

Danny twitched in the corner of his eye, but by the time Calvin looked up, the other man’s face was expressionless.

“So, we’ll get it solved.” Danny shrugged. “Work out a real contract and sign it ourselves. Developer’ll never know the difference.”

“Not that simple.” Calvin pushed the contract farther away. “God. Why did he do this?”

“What do you mean why? You just said—”

“You don’t get it, Danny. This could be considered fraud. They’re going to go to his boss, they probably already have. We need to have this all taken care of, now, or we’re screwed even deeper than before.”

“Yeah, and your friend was just trying to help. I would have done it.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have, okay? He should have minded his own business and not tried to fix mine!”

“You could be a little grateful. Personally, I could kiss him for thinking on his feet.”

Calvin just shook his head, unable to speak for the things that wanted to bubble up and spill back into the waking world.

“Why are you so messed up about this?” Danny stepped closer, peering at Calvin with a sharp furrow in his brow. “What happened between you two?”

“Mind
your
own business, Danny,” he growled, snatching up the fake contract and his grant paperwork. He left the room before Danny could say anything else.

* * *

“Well, yes, it’s a little unorthodox,” the loan agent said in response to Devon’s only question that whole afternoon. First Trust Credit Union wasn’t a large establishment by any means, but the three of them plus the loan agent all sitting around one desk had a way of making the room even more cramped, like they were taking up too much space.

The loan agent looked over the paperwork critically, then met all their eyes in turn, a fact Calvin appreciated. “But we’ve certainly approved loans for newcomers before. And your mother had very good standing at this credit union, which will work in your favor. It would be better if one of you had some sort of account here.”

“I can open one,” Calvin said, and the agent smiled.

“That’ll speed things along in terms of processing. It demonstrates your commitment, and it can act as a source account if you want to take advantage of our automatic payments feature. I’ll need to do a general credit check either way, but at least your money will be here with us while the loan is in effect.”

“I’m receiving my next paycheck tomorrow. Would it be all right to wait till then? I’ll come in after work and deposit it.”

“That would be great. In the meantime, I’ll give you the pamphlets about this type of account. In terms of the loan application, right now I can tell you that the statements from your current financial institutions indicate good standing and proof of steady income. And then the fact that any of the three of you would be able to make payments...” He gave them another friendly grin. “The application looks good.”

Calvin looked at the other two, but neither offered anything else. “Can you give me an idea of how long the loan processing might take? We’re working with a deadline.”

“Let’s see if I can expedite it for you.” He typed away at the computer for a bit, then nodded. “We don’t have a high number of applications to process at the moment. I can’t guarantee an exact time, but barring nothing shows up on the credit checks, maybe by the beginning of next week?”

It was by far the best they were going to get at this point, and by that time, Calvin should have heard back about his personal bank’s loan.

He read the paperwork as it was given to him. He could feel Devon’s eyes following the lines of text over his shoulder. Danny sat further back, an air of disinterest ticking at his frame.

“What do you think?” Calvin tapped his pen on the first of four signature lines. “It won’t be enough on its own.”

“It’ll get things rolling.” Devon lifted a second pen with a grateful nod to the agent. “And take the pressure off.”

He sounded so sure that Calvin’s nerves settled for the first time in weeks. Still, Devon waited for Calvin to sign as the primary before drawing the paper his way and adding his own name. He turned in his seat, holding the pen out. “Danny?”

Danny came upright with a start. His eyes flicked from the application to both their faces. “You don’t need me to sign that. To get the loan.”

Calvin frowned. “We should all have access. You can make decisions about it without contacting one of us first. The property’s under your name, too.”

Danny’s eyes rested on the pen Devon held, and remained for long enough that Devon straightened.