Chapter 14 - Rebuilding

Bailey sat in the grass, soaking up the August sun. She watched happily as Faith played with her little cousins. While she watched, she reflected upon just how far Faith had come. It seemed like yesterday when Gavin first asked her to babysit.

Faith had grown to be quite the cheerful, sociable little girl, wearing dresses, and speaking her mind. With her cousins, Faith found weeds in her grandpa's yard and blew the white fuzzy seeds. "Grandpa will love that!" she told the children.

"He will! I heard that you're supposed to make wishes on them," Faith said cheerfully picking one and handing it to her. Bailey took the weed in her hand looking at its fuzzy seeds and petting it gently as not to disturb them quite yet. "Don't tell me your wish," Faith said. "Just close your eyes, think of it, and then blow on it!"

Bailey smiled and did as the girl directed her to. The other children raced around the yard trying to find more weeds. They stock piled them in their hands, running to the next only to realize their running ruined the purpose and that all their seeds had blown away. "There's plenty of flowers here girls and boys," Bailey reminded them to take their time and share. "There will be tons more after it rains too, I'm sure!"

"Why?" asked Garin from afar.

"Well, these little fuzzies have seeds on them," Bailey explained. "The more you wish on them, the more flowers will sprout up."

"If they sprout up does that mean your wish came true?" Garin asked and walked over to her with one cupped in his hand, as if protecting a candle flame. Suddenly his cousin Gage ran past and blew on it.

"Gage!" he shouted angrily.

"That's wasn't very nice," Bailey frowned at the ornery little boy. He laughed and darted away.

Garin sat down beside her sounding defeated. "I wanted to see the seeds," he said handing the remaining stem to her. Bailey held it in her grasp and inspected the end. She pinched a small bit of fuzz that was left and showed him the tiny little seeds. "Don't ever worry about running out of wishes!" she said optimistically.

Suddenly, a loud cry drifted in the breeze. Alerted at once, Bailey turned her head towards Faith. The little girl had burst into sudden tears. All the other children ceased their playing also caught off guard by her instant hysterics that appeared without cause.

"Sweetie?" Bailey rose to her feet wondering if maybe she had stepped on something. Faith raced away at once, her sundress billowed behind her, along with her long dark hair. Her arms moved up and down, her legs strode forward one after the other, until she plowed into the arms of a dark headed man. Down on one knee, he had drawn her into a tight embrace. The other children looked on, silent with confusion as Bailey drew a hand to her quivering lip. She found it hard to believe that they had been so preoccupied with their wishes that they had failed to see the blessing appear before them.

That evening, over a small family cookout, Mike taught his grandchildren how to make smores. He instructed Garin with his two large hands. The marshmallow squeezed out between the chocolate and graham crackers.

"I want to make one daddy!" Faith said excitedly to Gavin. The girl hadn't let him out of her sight since he had arrived.

"It's almost done sweetheart," Gavin told her with his poker near the flame. A marsh mellow roasted slowly at the end as he turned it slowly in his hand. The sleeves of his white button up were pulled to his elbows as if he was a smore professional. "Do you have your graham crackers ready?" he asked. She nodded her head excitedly. "Be careful, it's hot," he said bringing roasted mellow away from the fire. He blew on it a couple of times before putting it on her cracker. She smashed it together and took a bite out of it. The gooey mellow and melted chocolate was on her hands and face in an instant. "That's the best part of it!" he told her.

"I brought some wet wipes out," Bailey said setting the box on a nearby wooden table, right next to the mosquito repellant.

"What are you doing?" Gavin asked her, "Come eat with us." Shyly, Bailey took a seat on a fold out lawn chair beside him.

The kids devoured their sweet snacks, had a short sugar rush, then complained of mosquito bites and exhaustion. Faith of course was silent as she stared at the fire in Gavin's arms. It was there that she fell asleep. "It's about that time for us too," he yawned. They all helped grab materials and took them in while Mike put the fire out. Once everything was neatly stowed away, they made plans for the next day.

Standing at the front door with Faith's head against his shoulder Gavin then asked, "Can we bum a ride?"

Leah looked at Mike, "I thought his truck was here?"

Mike corrected her, "No, it's in his garage, dear."

Just as he went to grab his keys, Bailey piped up. "I can drop them off."

Leah smiled at her and reached to give her a hug. "Don't ever hesitate to come and see us, okay darling?"

Bailey blushed and nodded.

While Bailey drove, light sounds of the radio filled the air. Gavin sat up front with her, Faith in the back seat. From the corner of her eyes, she could see him move his fingers around nervously in his lap. His gaze was distant out the window. When they reached his duplex, he left Bailey and Faith in the car so he could turn on the breakers. He used his phone as a flashlight to guide him. Bailey watched from the driveway as the house came back to life. She then turned the car off and helped the two inside. Gavin carried Faith up the stairs, but just as he set her down on her bed, she stirred awake.

"Daddy!" she kept her arms around his neck.

"Put some pajama's on," he coaxed her. Bailey shifted through her top drawer and laid out a pair of green shorts with a matching t-shirt. After Faith had changed, Gavin told her, "Let me tuck you in."

"No! Sleep in my room!" she begged him. "Please!" the tears welled in her eyes. He picked her up and put her in her bed.

"Stop crying," he told her calmly. "You're a big girl…"

"But what if I wake up and you're not here?" she cried.

He drew his pinky finger up, "I promise I'm not going anywhere."

She looked at his pinky and stared into his deep brown eyes devoid of dark circles. His short black curly hair had specks of gray in it, similar to the pictures in her photo album. Faith brought her pinky to his and they pinky promised on it. He then kissed her on the forehead. The two told her they loved her, and said goodnight.

When Gavin exited the room after Bailey, he turned and found himself walking into an embrace. Her head pressed against his chest and her arms wrapped around his waist with his hand still against the door knob. She could smell the pure scent of his cologne and warm breath as he looked down at her. His hand moved from the door knob to her back, pressing her tighter against him. "May we see you next weekend?" he asked her.

"Of course," she replied. He then walked her to her car and bid her goodnight.

Once he was back inside, he roamed about the quiet duplex alone. Pictures of his family had been added to his barren walls. His mail had been stacked neatly upon his kitchen counter and he could tell house had been cleaned and dusted. The smell of cleaning supplies still drifted in the air so he knew that it was recent.

On the fridge he plucked a note out from underneath a magnet which read: "We got you and Faith some things, Love Mom and Dad~

Inside he found the fridge and freezer restocked. He also found food in his cabinets. When he retreated upstairs, he discovered his bed had been remade, his clothes put away, and his bathroom put back in order. Even the content of the drawers had been organized. With every object he discovered put back in its place, he felt the tightening of his throat and the burning of his eyes. Then came the tilt of his head upward to keep his cheeks dry.

When at last he had finished roaming about the house, he checked on Faith once more before bed. She slept peacefully on her side. Her hands were folded together beside her cheek, her knees were bent and her ankles crossed. He tiptoed into her room and covered her once more with her blanket. And while she lay in a peaceful slumber, he worried sleeplessly if she would ever forgive him.

Back in his bed, his eyelids grew heavy with fatigue, but wouldn't shut. He couldn't stop rehearsing and reenacting scenes from his life. They played like movie clips over and over again. He thought about the past and the future, what he should've done and what he should do. He couldn't muster the courage to ask for Faith's forgiveness because he feared her answer, nor could he find the strength to ask Bailey if she would ever trust him again. Before he realized it the sun peaked through his curtains and he wondered if he had slept at all.

The next day, Gavin enjoyed spending time with Faith. Together they had a picnic and interpreted the shapes of clouds as the passed by overhead. They drew pictures of their interpretations. He could tell by her artwork that she was getting older and the way that she talked about it. He felt he had missed so much.

It wasn't long before the sound of Cyndi's three children at play resonated from the front lawn.

"Daddy, can I go see them?" Faith asked. She hadn't seen them in over a month.

"Of course," he smiled. "I can pick this up if you want to go ahead," he waved her on. Excitedly, she darted away towards the front of the duplex. Gavin cleaned up their mess and carried their items back into the house. Just as he went to get the last item, the basket, Cyndi poked her head around the corner. At first, she thought she was mistaken seeing his black hair. "Gavin, is that you?" she asked.

"Cyndi," he smiled, holding his arms out.

She scrambled for him and greeted him with a hug. "How are you? Where have you been? I've been worried about you! You didn't call, you didn't text! I want to be angry, but I'm just too relieved to see you!" Her lips pressed against his once more as if she were suffering from an unquenchable thirst.

When at last she had settled down to catch her breath, he spoke, "Everything is fine now, I have so much to tell you. Please come in."

Cyndi sat in the chair adjacent to Gavin's. While he spoke, her face remained neutral in a non-judgmental state. He was very open and honest with her about his overdose and experience in rehab.

When he had finished, he felt his heart palpitate at her quietness. "I know I should've told you sooner, but…" he momentarily panicked.

"It's okay, I understand," she interrupted in a gentle voice. "The moment never presented itself and I apologize for that." Her cheeks were slightly red with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry too," he added scratching the back of his head. "I hope this doesn't scare you away and we can still be neighbors."

Cyndi brushed her red hair behind her ear. "No Gavin. I appreciate your honesty. We all make mistakes and get ourselves in a bind at some point. We're only human, and it happens to more people than you think. I'm just glad that you're getting back on track. I think its best that I give you your space while you figure things out." she told him with a shrug.

"Do you think it will be awkward between us?" he asked. "No, in fact let's start over. My name is Cyndi," her smile radiated.

Gavin and Faith spent time at his parents' house the following day. Faith played with her cousins while Gavin worked on semis with his father. They left the shop door open with a large fan on while they worked. The sun was brutal and the heat rose in waves.

"Thank you for the groceries and housework," Gavin told his father.

"No problem," he huffed, short of breath.

"Sit down dad," Gavin told Mike. The man was covered in sweat. His face was red and his chest rose and fell. They had serviced the semi and were now working on cleaning it.

"Just give me a minute" Mike replied, planting his self on a lawn chair. He sat in the shade of the shop. Age had finally caught up with him.

"I got this, she's mine," Gavin told him, wanting him to take it easy. His father's heart condition hadn't gotten any better since his youth.

Mike wiped his face with the bottom of his shirt and looked on. "It's one thing keeping her clean. What about yourself? Am I going to need to worry about sending you over the road with her?"

Gavin suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned his head to look at his father. He had a large soapy sponge pressed against the grill. "I'm fine," he told him sharply, continuing his work.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait a little longer before going back to hauling? You just got back yesterday. There's always work to be done around the shop…" Mike said scratching the back of his head.

"This is my semi. If you don't put me back on the road, we'll find work someplace else," he said sternly, tapping the sponge gently against her grill.

"No, you won't." He laughed and shook his head. "I love you, son. I don't want to see you like that again. That's all," he said, getting to his feet.

"Christ! You won't!" Gavin raised his voice, throwing the sponge down in the bucket. He then wiped the sweat from his forehead with his forearm and put his hands on his hips. "Can we talk about something else for fuck's sake?" Mike did not react to his harsh words. Instead, his expression remained unreadable. "Look, I love you too. I just want to move on." He picked up the spray nozzle for the power wash and began rinsing off his semi.

"If you're ready to move on, then why is it so hard to talk about?" Mike asked.

Gavin took a deep breath. "Because, you keep picking at a fucking scab. Just leave it alone and let it heal already!" The two men were shouting over the sound of the power washer.

"Good God, son! You're the one who's been picking at the scab all these years, sulking and self-medicating. What's worse is that you're still shutting people out! Just talk to me!" Mike pleaded.

"Faith isn't my daughter!" Gavin yelled, releasing the trigger on the power washer. It was quiet in the shop. The sound of dripping water against the cement floor flooded their ears. Water circled down the drain. Gavin had his right arm extended towards the grill. His head had slumped forward on his shoulders as he looked down at his own two feet. The tip of the power washer hung loose in his left hand, dangling inches from the ground.

"What are you talking about? Of course she is!" Mike's face twisted in disgust.

"Her father passed away months ago, dad! I went to his visitation."

Silence ensued between the two of them. "So what? You raised her," his father argued. "That title requires hard work and dedication."

"Then why do I feel so… shitty?" he asked in a softer tone of voice. Gavin closed his eyes and thought about what caused him to drink and medicate himself into such a dreadful state the night he fell and busted his head open. He couldn't remember much, but he most certainly remembered Bailey getting on his case about it the following day. She had told him he was the only parent Faith had left and that her love for him should be enough and his love for her. Her words moved him to want better for Faith, so much so that he turned back to his family.

He tried to make things better, but the haunting fact that he had already put them through so much weighed heavily on his conscience. He thought of himself as no better of a man, despite his efforts, to be the father Andrew couldn't. After Ray had become pregnant, Andrew left her. As her only hope left in the world, she had returned to Gavin while Andrew continued his life marred by unhealthy habits. He caused himself irreversible damage and for the last year of his life lived in hospice.

Andrew's last dying wish was to see Faith at least once before he passed, a wish that Gavin refused.

Gavin opened his eyes, peering down at his boots. He, on the other hand, was still lucky to be alive and healthy. He was proud to call Faith his daughter, even if not by blood. And at the same time, he felt honored with a heavy heart to call Ray his late wife. He drew in deep breath. "Do you think Faith will ever forgive me for what I've done?"

"She already has. Can you forgive yourself?" Mike asked.

When the weekend came, Bailey appeared at Gavin's house. She opened the door to find him in a black button-up and dark blue jeans. "You look nice." He told her thank you and then moved from the couch to the kitchen.

She set her bag down on the stairway and gave a look of confusion. "Where's Faith at?"

"She's swimming at Graham's. She should've been home by now, but they decided to take all the kids for ice cream." He came around the corner with an oil filter and five quarts of oil in a bag.

"Want to go grab a bite to eat?" he offered, handing the items to her.

Bailey gently took the items from him with a smile. "Of course. Um, thank you. This oil is beautiful," she laughed looking into the bag at the synthetic platinum containers.

"Your vehicle is definitely past due," he told her. "Unless you or someone else has changed it, I understand, it's been well over a month," he shrugged.

"No Gavin," she told him, setting the items down on the chair beside her. "I most certainly did not, and no one has changed my oil since the last time you did. Maybe you could teach me later?"

When they pulled up to the restaurant Bailey's cheeks began to turn pink. It was a beautiful Italian themed restaurant. "This is really nice of you." Bailey peered around. The overhead lights were like miniature chandeliers. The tables were covered with mosaic patterns and Champagne glasses sparkled beside their silver wear.

He took a deep breath before he spoke, "I hope this isn't too much. I just wanted to show my appreciation since you've helped see me and my daughter through so much."

"You're welcome, but you don't have to do all this," she watched as a waitress poured water in their cups.

"May I get you something to drink?" she asked.

"Water is fine," Bailey replied.

"Water for me too, and can you take this please?" he asked, handing her the champagne glass. The waitress complied.

"How are you doing by the way?" Bailey asked once the waitress had left.

"I guess time will tell, won't it?" he shrugged.

She appreciated his honesty. "Do you still get urges?"

"Oh, abso-fucking-lutely," he told her. "Not so much during the day, but especially at night. That first night was the worst. I laid awake in bed for an hour, walked around the house a bit not knowing what to do. When I got back to work it was even worse. I cleaned my semi with dad inside and out, arguing about how much I wanted to get back on the road even though the very thought of it made me nauseous."

It was quiet for a moment. "Is Mike going to send you back out?" Bailey asked hesitantly.

"Certainly not, he knows I'm not ready yet. Deep down I know it too, but I won't admit that to him." Gavin scratched the back of his head. She realized just how much he looked like his father while speaking of the man.

"Growing up, did you ever think of doing anything else?" she asked.

"Never. Ever since I was a little kid, I wanted to drive a semi. I saw my dad do it and saw him become successful. Hell, I knew the mechanics of a semi before my brothers even got their CDL's." The waitress returned with breadsticks and then proceeded to ask for their order. Gavin got spaghetti and Bailey ordered a chicken Caesar pasta salad.

The two then partook in breadsticks. She watched as he chewed his bite slowly. It was coated in garlic, herbs, and cheese, slightly crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. Food tasted different since he had returned. "What about you? What do you want to do in life?"

"Well, since I'm paying for my own education, I'd like to attend a community college first while I decide. I know for certain that I want to work with children." "Did you have any influences?" he asked.

"My father," she told him. "He raised me after the divorce. Now my parents are back together or at least trying to fix things. I guess that's where I learned my perseverance though, through him." The waitress then brought their dishes and sprinkled parmesan over the top.

Once their dinner was finished, they went back to service Bailey's vehicle. When Gavin went inside to retrieve the items, he took off his black button-up shirt to avoid ruining it. Bailey blushed at the sight of his chest as she pulled into the garage.

Without much thought, he went about raising her car with the jack after she shut it off. "How do you know where to raise it without damaging the vehicle?" she asked as he got the oil pan.

"Any part of the frame, really," he replied. "I'll show you." He then got out two creepers and laid down on one. "You'll want to pull your hair back," he advised. Bailey put her hair in a bun and sat on the creeper. The two then got under the vehicle. He showed her the part of the frame where he had jacked the vehicle up.

"Now, you set the pan under this area here," he instructed.

Her eyes followed his. "Why here?" she asked.

He turned his head to look at her. Her soft pink lips were slightly parted as she returned his stare. It was such a simple question and it was such a simple answer. The more he explained, the more his mind felt alive. He had gone so long performing such tasks as an automaton, not thinking much about it anymore. He smiled and then pulled the bolt directly above.

She watched the black liquid spill into the pan. "You definitely needed an oil change," he told her. "Look at how black that is." When it began to slow to a drip, he asked her to point out the oil filter.

"This thing?" she asked, pointing to the object that was shaped like the new filter.

"Good," he told her. "Now these are really tough to get off and sometimes a bit messy," he said cupping it with his hands trying to loosen it. She saw the muscles in his bicep flex and his face became red for a moment. Eventually it gave way. He set it in the pan with the oil and wiped his hand with a shop rag.

"Now, when you put the new filter on, you take some of the old oil and put a little around the rim. It helps it come off during the next change." He told her handing her the filter.

"Like this?" she asked, dipping her index finger in the oil and tracing the rim.

"Great, now twist it on here," he guided her hands to the place where it needed to go. Together they twisted it until it was snug. He then put the bolt back in. He moved the pan of oil to the side for a moment and got a funnel. She came to stand by his side with the hood open.

"This one here," he told her, popping the top open and placing the funnel in. Bailey got the bottles and began pouring the oil in. While she did this, he disposed of the used oil in a large metal container.

"How's it going?" he asked her.

She looked over her shoulder at him. "Great! Almost done. What else can I learn?"

"Well, I can teach you how to change a tire if we do a rotation."

He reached for the power drill and a rolling stool. Next, he grabbed two jack stands. He pushed the jack stands under the frame and took the jack to the rear of the vehicle. Next, he showed her how to remove the lug nuts by hand and with the impact. "Typically, when you're stranded on the side of the road you don't have an impact wrench, but to save time today..." He then tapped the wheel and moved aside. She struggled to pull it free. After wiggling it for a moment, she set it on the garage floor.

"That's heavy," she commented. They went about removing the other three tires and rotated them accordingly. He helped her raise them onto the studs and secure them with the lug nuts.

"Still want to learn more?" he asked her. She stood off to the side, her face shined with sweat in the heat of the garage.

"Can we take a break?" she asked as he lowered her vehicle back on the ground.

Back inside the air conditioner felt great. Together they washed their hands in the kitchen sink and then poured cups of water from the faucet to drink. "Thank you."

"Not a problem, of course, I'll still insist on doing it," he smiled, setting his own cup aside.

"I'm ready to learn more," she said quietly.

"Well let's get out there then," he replied, enjoying her enthusiasm. As he headed for the garage, her gentle hands grazed across his burning chest, snagging him instantly. He turned his head to look back at her and she caught him by the mouth, pressing her lips against his. The warmth of her breath and gentle caress of her tongue flooded him, submerging him with a thundering wave of overwhelming sensation. She could feel his heart beat beneath her hand.

Suddenly, he took a step back, wedging open space between them. "This isn't the time…" he said breathlessly as if he were breathing underwater. "I'm still trying to figure things out. I mean, what if I fuck up again? I don't want to hurt you." His chest heaved as if he was in the midst of a panic attack.

"I understand," she replied quietly.