Free Calamity Jena (Invertary Book 4) by janet elizabeth henderson

her son could do to make it better for her. “Why don’t you go get a cup of tea and a bite to eat while I sit with him? He needs a little man talk, don’t you, Dad?”
    Matt’s chest hurt looking at the man who’d once taken up so much space in his life. The man who’d taught him how to be a man. He owed everything he was to his dad.
    “Thanks, love,” his mum said. “I am a bit hungry. I won’t be long.”
    “Take your time,” Matt said. “But bring me back a coffee. I can’t shake that dozy feeling today.”
    “No problem.” She winked at him, smoothed her hand over her short blonde hair and glanced at her husband with such brutal longing it made Matt hold his breath. “I’ll be back soon,” she said as she left the room.
    Matt rubbed his chest as he turned back to his dad. “I’ve got to tell you about this crazy woman I’m looking out for,” he said. “You’d get a kick out her.”
    His dad’s eyes fought to focus on Matt’s face. “Donald?” His voice was a raw croak, brittle from lack of use.
    Matt swallowed hard. His dad never called him Donald. That was the name of the uncle he’d been named after. Matt didn’t mind; he was used to playing the part of his long-dead uncle. “That’s right,” Matt told him as he reached for his hand. “It’s Donald. How’s the family doing, Bruce?”
    “Good, good.” He looked confused. “I thought you were at sea.”
    “I was. Came back to see you, you old codger.”
    The smile his father gave him was worth every moment of the pain Matt felt. “Who you calling an old codger? I’m two years younger than you.”
    “That you are, that you are.” Matt squeezed his father’s brittle hand. Holding on to more than his skin, trying to hold on to the man who was fading away. He fought to get words past his tight throat. “Tell me about that lovely wife of yours.”
    He watched as his dad’s whole face lit up so much it was blinding. “Heather,” he said on a sigh. “She takes my breath away. You know what I’m talking about?”
    “Aye,” Matt said. “Aye, I do.”
    And an image of a crazy American woman flashed into his mind.
    He watched as the effort of talking proved too much for his dad and his eyes became heavy with sleep. Matt didn’t move, he just sat there, holding his hand.
    The way his father had always done for him when he was a boy.
     
     
    Jena was close to the end of her first shift at the hardware store and she couldn’t have been more ready to go home. Gordon and Brenda had hovered over her all day, like a couple of grey-haired bodyguards. She was fine with the hovering—the hovering was kind of sweet. What she didn’t enjoy was Gordon’s constant laughter. The man, along with his sick sense of humour, was beginning to get on her nerves. It was time to deal with him—after she’d dealt with her latest customer. She gave the man a beaming smile.
    “Welcome to Stewart hardware, how can I help you?”
    “Do you have any size-six washers?” the timid little man asked.
    Jena frowned. “I think you have the wrong shop. We only sell DIY stuff. If you want a washer you need to go along the road to the furniture place. They’ve got a selection of washing machines and dishwashers. I don’t know if they have size six, but I’m sure they’ll order one if they don’t have it in stock.”
    The guy stared at her, open-mouthed. Gordon’s laughter told her she’d screwed up again. That was it. She’d had enough. She held a finger up to the guy in front of her, giving him a strained smile. “Give me one minute.”
    She stomped over to stand in front of Gordon. She put her hands on her hips. “That’s it. I’ve had enough. This isn’t funny. Nothing about this is funny. How am I supposed to know this stuff? It isn’t like it’s genetically programmed into you at birth.” She pointed a finger at him. “Somebody taught you, Gordon Stewart. Now stop laughing, get up off your lazy backside and teach me what I need to