“Damn it,” I said.
“Look, you might be doing a really good job of hiding this from her. Or she might be so preoccupied with being pregnant that she doesn’t suspect you’re hiding anything anyway. All I’m saying is the couple of times I tried to surprise my wife with something, it went drastically wrong,” he said.
“Great. Well, talk to me about something positive. How’s Travis doing?”
“He’s doing good. I’m not sure what he’s doing with the money we’re paying him. He hasn’t bought himself any new clothes. But the ones he does come to work in have been laundered, so I know he’s at least cashing the checks somewhere,” he said.
“He attending his drug classes like he needs to be? No issues with him coming in high to work?”
“I thought he did once and had him drug tested, but it turned out the man was just tired. It’s why I think you should talk with him. I don’t know what he’s doing with that money, but I know he’s still living on the street. He’s not sleeping much, but I haven’t questioned him on it because the lack of sleep hasn’t affected his quality of work.”
“Thanks. I’ll go talk to him,” I said.
I headed back downstairs and slowly walked around the house. It was turning out to be perfect, and I couldn't wait to tell Hailey about it. I was questioning whether it should still be a surprise, but I figured with the project crew only being days away from finishing, it wouldn’t hurt anything. If Hailey’s distance was because she thought I was keeping something, and the distance returned this week, I would tell her. But nothing this morning indicated to me that she was worried about my leaving, so I tossed the worried thought from my mind.
“Travis! There you are.”
“Hello, Mr. Bryan. How are you?”
“I’m doing well. How are you?” I asked.
“Just making sure this paint doesn’t get on any of the crown moldings. It really is a pretty color. You picked it out well.”
“I’m going to be married to an artist. I better be good with color,” I said, chuckling. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Some
thing wrong, Mr. Bryan?”
“I just want to check up with you. The foreman tells me you’ve been coming to work pretty tired,” I said.
“Has it been affecting my work? Is the foreman unhappy?” Travis asked.
“Not at all. In fact, despite how tired you’ve been, your work’s been great. I want to ask you something, though.”
“Shoot,” he said.
“You’re cashing the checks we’re giving you, right? Because that’s money well-earned. It’s yours.”
“Depends on what you mean by cashing, I guess,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
I watched as Travis came down from the ladder before he drew in a deep breath.
“Mr. Bryan, when I lost my kids, I lost everything. Their mom took everything in the divorce and I spiraled, I guess. Drank through my money and got thrown out of the apartment I was holed up in during and after my divorce. I’m trying to save as much money from this job as I can so I can get myself a decent living space after. I’m trying to come in early and learn as many skills as I can so I can get another job after this one wraps up. I want to go back to court and fight for shared custody of my kids. I miss them, Mr. Bryan. But that’s going to take money, and it’s money I can’t spend right now unless I have to.”
My heart ached for this man as he told me his story.
“I’m taking half of what I earn and putting it into an account I can use, and I’m investing the other half. It’s not much of an investment, but it’s growing little by little. I want to prove I can be responsible with finances, that I can have the money to take care of my kids when they’re with me. But there’s a lot of stuff I have to do first like get my own place, find some steady work, have a reliable stream of income, and prove that my alcohol abuse isn’t an issue anymore. I know the courts will look into my finances and question every little transaction I make, so for now, I’m trying to let it ride, I guess.”
I was speechless at the man’s story. Investing money? After living on the streets and battling alcoholism? This man was the real deal. He was fucking serious, and anything I could do to help him was something I was more than willing to do.
“Well, feel free to apply for more jobs within the company. You’ve obviously acquired a great deal of skills, and Foreman Jack seems happy with your work. If you need a reference for any other jobs outside of the company, feel free to put both Jack and me down as references people can call,” I said.
“I appreciate it, Mr. Bryan. That means a lot.”
I took a step back and watched Travis climb back up the ladder. My heart felt full, knowing I could help a man like this. But my thoughts soon wandered off toward John. I wondered about Hailey’s guilt and how I could somehow convince her that John’s death hadn’t been her fault. I thought about all the times John did come visit me and how I could’ve done more to intervene. I was reminded of the struggles John eventually did pull himself out of. He had gone from a doped-up homeless man to a fledgling artist who was willing to give his own life to stop the very men who’d worked in the trade that had fueled his own addiction.