Unprecedented Read online

  As soon as the last person came out, everyone crowded in with Joey and Cara next to Tia on the bed. The large room felt small with all the family stuffed into it, exactly how Gia hoped the scene would be if she were in the bed instead of Tia Carolena.

  They held hands and bowed their heads as Roberto then Daddy prayed. Neves led them in quiet hymn accompanied by a chorus of sniffles. Tia was leaving a legacy of kindness and grace in her wake. If Gia could only be half as thoughtful and compassionate, she’d be happy.

  A few hours later, Joey came downstairs to where everyone sat talking quietly. His presence silenced the group. Gia knew what he was going to say, but it didn’t prevent the devastation she felt when he said, “She’s gone.”

  Chapter 2

  Xander Reinerman shoved his hands into his pocket, paced a few steps, and stopped. The upbeat Mexican music in the background strummed on his frayed nerves. Why had he suggested meeting over lunch again? It was a terrible idea. He couldn’t possibly eat right now.

  His fingers toyed with his car keys in his pocket. The nerves would be worth it. Good or bad, he was here for closure. Or as the therapist had said, “Starting the journey to emotional maturity by breaking trauma bonds.”

  What if she hated him?

  His deep breaths didn’t slow his racing heartbeat. He’d gained a lot of control over his anxiety and panic attacks in the last six months, but it wasn’t gone. And when the stakes were high, as they were today, a panic attack rushed him like a three-hundred-pound linebacker.

  He couldn’t help but feel a trickle of fear over how life wouldn’t likely give him another shot at reconnecting with Avri. She was his youngest sister, but that didn’t mean her acceptance was limitless, regardless of how much he wanted it to be. Linc gave him her number and Xander had finally worked up the nerve to reach out to her. She’d agreed to lunch as it was her first day on Christmas vacation from physical therapist school.

  Whatever the official term for that was. Did they go to medical school? He’d find out.

  “Alex!”

  He jumped out of his skin. There stood his petite, brown-headed little sister next to him. He’d not heard her coming, what with the borderline panic attack in his mind. She opened her arms awkwardly and gave him an unsure smile.

  “Avri.” He wrapped his arms around her, just as he had before his sentencing day. Her hair smelled just as flowery and her frame still felt so small. Always his little sister. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “Do you hate me?” They both asked at the same time, then laughed.

  “Never,” Xander said. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you so much. Five years is an eternity,” Avri said, gripping his arms. She exhaled hard. “I thought when all my letters came back, that you wanted nothing to do with me. I—”

  “Wait. What letters?” Xander dropped onto the stone wall next to them, bringing her with him. “You sent me letters?”

  Her mouth hung open a bit. She dug around in her extra-large, animal print purse and pulled out a bundle of letters in a rubber band. Return to Sender was scrawled in red. He took them from her. There had to be at least twenty.

  Letters.

  Addressed to him.

  Letters that could have been a life raft while he treaded water in the ocean of despair.

  Except they’d be rejected.

  “Carlson State Penitentiary? I was only there until my trial. I got sent to White River Correctional after my sentencing,” Xander said.

  She gasped. “That’s the address Dad gave me. I made sure to ask for your most current one. I’m so sorry, Alex.”

  Dad knew the difference between jail and prison. He’d even asked Quinn, Xander’s lawyer, for the address after the sentencing. Anger heating to rage swelled inside Xander’s chest. He stuffed it down.

  Avri had done nothing wrong. She’d sent him letters. None of his other family members had done that.

  She dabbed at her eyes. “I should have visited after those first few letters were rejected, but prison scared me—”

  “Yeah, me too.” He grunted out a half laugh.

  “And I always talked myself out of it. I’m the worst sister.” She threw her arms around his neck. “Please, forgive me.”

  “Av, of course I forgive you. I am relieved to have you back in my life. I didn’t realize how much Dad had been sabotaging me and my sanity from out here.” He ran his hand over his hair. He was going to have a hard time forgiving Dad for this one. “Can I keep the letters?”

  She smiled and handed them over. “They’re yours. From what I remember, they are mostly full of trivial day-to-day happenings or stuff I thought you’d think was interesting. Let’s eat something, because I haven’t been able to eat all morning. I was so nervous.”

  After eating their weight in chips and salsa, they split the fajitas and caught up on life. Avri had a pretty boy for a boyfriend. Chad.

  But so long as there were more good times than bad, he’d keep his opinion to himself.

  As they left the restaurant, Avri stopped. “You’re joining us for Christmas this year, right?”

  “Uh.” Xander scratched his neck. “Actually, I thought I’d do Christmas Day with my girlfriend and her family.”

  Avri’s eyes widened. “Girlfriend? Wow. You guys must be serious if you’re spending Christmas with them.”

  Surer than he’d ever been about Macy whom his sisters adored. He pulled up a picture of them on his phone to show her. “As soon as I get my life in order, I’m going to propose.”

  “She is stunning.” Avri scrunched up her nose. “Just put your life in semi-order. Don’t wait too long to tie her down.”

  “I need to be making enough money to support myself, and hopefully both of us, so she can’t write me off on her taxes as a dependent,” Xander said.

  Gia had done most of the heavy lifting herself and that grated on him in the worst way. She deserved a man who could give her the life she wanted and more. He wasn’t close to that yet.

  Avri hugged him goodbye and promised to meet him again for lunch soon. As Xander drove Gia’s SUV back to Gia’s office to work, he allowed himself a reprieve from fear, long enough to celebrate the really amazing lunch he’d had with Avri.

  They were on great terms. His family minus Dad believed him. They were proud of him. They’d once been his biggest cheerleaders, the core of who he was. To lose them to a lie was unconscionable. Now, all he had left was to see Kelsey in person and work on Dad. Or maybe give up on him. What dad intentionally misdirected his daughter away from supporting her brother?

  It wasn’t right or loving of his family to bail on him, but he understood it in a small way. They’d been afraid and confused. Dad passing judgment on Xander hadn’t helped the situation.

  Xander parked in the back of the office in Golden and texted Gia. The daily reminders of her made him miss her more than he’d anticipated. Logically, they hadn’t been dating long enough for him to feel like he was missing his right arm, but surprisingly he did. Worse was that she was in deep pain about her aunt’s health and was trying to be strong and brave about it all, but he was across the country and could only offer her verbal support.

  He trudged inside and checked his email. No orders. Still.

  Reclaim That, his store of upcycled items, had a decent start, but sales had tapered off once the media circus from his launch and Coach Randall’s admission had died down. Chances were good that sales might pick up again as soon as his wrongful imprisonment settlement hit the papers. His new lawyer figured it wouldn’t be until the new year.

  But the funds in his bank account weren’t going to last much longer. Even though he felt like the world’s biggest leech right now, he still spent his own money on groceries and business expenses. Gia was really sweet about it, saying that she’d be paying someone to house sit for her if he wasn’t staying there, but he could not live on charity much longer. It made him crazy.

  He spent the afternoon marketing o
n local garage sale pages and online listing sites. On social media, he had a message about commissioning a piece. He responded. The sale would pay for a few more groceries.

  His phone chimed.

  Colorado number: They think you have something of mine. They’re coming for you. Watch your back.

  Have what? Who was this? He hesitated a moment.

  Wrong number, Xander sent back.

  No response.

  That was weird.

  That evening, he walked out to his easel and giant sign on the sidewalk. Every Thursday at seven, he held a workshop for The Upcycled Life. He talked about the mission, his story, and then the rest of the time they made something that he would list on Reclaim That’s page. At the end of the night, he would collect the creator’s contact information, so he could give them the money when their product sold.

  Gia’s office was a block from the bus station so he had Lucy’s permission to put a sign in front of Mother Hen directing riders toward him. She dropped by every Thursday with a box of baked goods to donate. Her tendency to linger made him think that she missed Gia more than she let on. Or maybe she was a self-appointed overseer of all that was Gia’s to make sure Xander stayed in line.

  He had, after all, spent five years in prison.

  Inside, he restacked the resource pamphlets in even rows on the table. These weren’t those unhelpful government trifolds that slapped a cartoon bandage on a gunshot wound. They were nonprofits offering their services to those in need. If someone wanted his help, that person probably could use other resources, too.

  He’d been unbelievably fortunate to land in Golden and be given the hand up he needed most. Others didn’t have that, but he planned to be a launching point for them if they’d let him.

  Twenty till seven, Lucy breezed in the front door. A few stray strands of hair stuck out from her head. “Wow. What a day. Actually, more like ‘what a month’ but it’s all a wash at this point.”

  She plopped the box down in the usual place and unpacked plates, napkins, forks, cups, and pitchers of drinks from her Mary Poppins bag. “Gia texted to say her aunt is failing quickly. Poor girl. She’s absolutely beside herself.”

  Xander nodded. He didn’t want to talk about Gia with Lucy, but he’d learned from experience that she’d keep going until he acknowledged her. “She’s exhausted from what I hear.”

  Lucy turned with her hands on her hips. “I hope you don’t mind if I stay tonight. I am hoping to find someone to help in my store for a few hours and thought this might be the place to look.”

  He raised his eyebrows. Really, there was no way to calculate how disruptive she’d be, so he couldn’t reasonably say no. “Okay, but please don’t say crazy things and interrupt me while I’m talking, okay?”

  She made a disgusted face at him, as if to say she’d never. But, oh, she would.

  The door chime interrupted their talk. In walked three well-dressed women with their hair and makeup done, laughing. He greeted them.

  “Hey, we’re here for upcycling workshop,” the blonde one said with a firm grip on her Coach purse. Thanks to Gia for that education.

  The brunette leaned in and winked. “We brought our own wine. Hope that’s okay. We figured it might be like one of those spirited art classes.”

  The third laughed at the joke until she snorted.

  They were definitely not sober. He smiled at them. “Actually, that’s tomorrow night at seven. I hope you can make it.”

  They apologized dramatically and promised to come again tomorrow. It wasn’t anywhere on his radar, but he could use the income and it wasn’t a terrible idea. Girls’ night had to be fairly lucrative. Xander made a note to add that to his business offerings. He needed to find a low-maintenance project for them that didn’t require hammers.

  “That sounds like fun. I’ll come tomorrow night, too,” Lucy said.

  Why not? He could use a buffer.

  An older woman walked in and glanced around. “Hi, I’m Edith. Hope it’s okay that I’m here.”

  Xander shook her hand. “Anyone is welcome. Please, grab some snacks.”

  “Oh, I already had dinner. Thank you though, sweetie. I want to see if this is something I can do with my autistic granddaughter. She learns through working with her hands and—you know how expensive craft materials are these days—I just can’t afford to keep buying those kits.” Edith snagged three cookies with a napkin while she was talking and moved toward Lucy to keep talking about who made the cookies and how many eggs she used in her recipe.

  Individualized children’s craft kits. Xander made another note in his workbook. Possibly offered from his non-profit to autistic foundations as tools, but for his for-profit definitely marketed to bored children and desperate parents at craft and hobby stores. A couple of middle-aged guys came in next. Their long, greasy hair partially veiled their faces. He scanned their inked skin, looking for gang identification. A new skill he’d picked up in prison.

  None that he could see.

  He greeted them, offered them snacks which they loaded up on, and invited them to have a seat. They assessed the office, unsmiling. He looked around with them. The main room was sparse as far as decorations went. The exposed beams and brick walls had enough character to impress a newcomer. The interior office where Gia designed held her family pictures and ornately framed degrees. His degree lay in a box somewhere in his parents’ shed still.

  Assessment finished, they slumped into chairs with their smart phones in hand.

  Something wasn’t right.

  He strode toward them to find out more, but his phone chimed in his pocket to tell him it was the top of the hour. When he walked to the front, they straightened in their chairs.

  Controlled movements. No smiles under a scraggly beard. A few words said between them.

  As he was about to get started, a black teenage boy slipped inside. Lucy met him and sent him to a chair with a full plate. He got settled and pulled a notebook out of his backpack.

  Interesting.

  “Thank you all for coming. My name is Xander, and I’m the founder of The Upcycled Life. My goal here tonight is to connect you with resources that you might need in order to start creating an income or supplementing your income by building products to sell. Rustic and upcycling are huge trends these days. Making new uses for old things speaks to us because we like the idea of being given a second chance.”

  Edith nodded at him encouragingly while the teenage boy in the back scribbled on his notepad with one hand and shoved food into his mouth with his other. Xander hadn’t said anything worth noting yet. What was this kid doing?

  “I’ve brought for you a sample of common discarded things that can be turned into something new. This egg carton can be used for planting starter seeds. This wine bottle can be turned into a candle or stuffed with a string of lights to become a decorative light. This pallet can become furniture or a play structure for kids or picture frames or anything that can be built with wood.”

  “Hey, man. Do you like dig through trash cans and stuff?” one of the long-haired guys asked him.

  Xander hadn’t noticed their pink eyes and puffy veins before. “Dumpster diving is all the rage. Lots of good stuff to be found at construction sites, but you don’t have to do that in order to find things that can be upcycled.”

  The teenage boy raised his hand. “Is dumpster diving illegal?”

  “In most places around here, it’s legal. However, private property and no trespassing signs are pretty clear indicators that you don’t belong there. A majority of stores have cameras around their buildings or signs posted near their dumpsters that are pretty explicit in what they allow.”

  The boy nodded, writing furiously.

  “The internet has a lot of tutorials and ideas on things to use and how to use them. I even have detailed instructions on The Upcycled Life’s website to help build some basic things. We’re going to get started on some simple things here in a moment. You can choose whether you’d like
to sell it on my website. When it sells, I contact you and give you the money and a free Reclaim That t-shirt.” He clapped once. “All right. You are free to ask questions while we get set up. Please, grab some more goodies from Golden’s very own Mother Hen Bakery.”

  For Edith, he grabbed the paper towel and toilet paper rolls and paint. For the men of questionable sobriety, he brought the bucket of wine corks. And for the teenage boy, he brought the coffee cans, paint, and ribbons to tie around them. With each one, he gave them a picture of what the finished product could look like and set them to work.

  He made eye contact with Lucy and nodded toward Edith while he sat down next to the teenager.

  “Hey, what’s your name?”

  The boy looked up and blinked. “Reggie.”

  Liar. He’d go with it for now. “Welcome to the workshop. What’s your goal in learning upcycling?”

  Reggie scrunched his eyebrows. “Income. Gotta pay the bills.” He huffed out an awkward laugh.

  “Your parents don’t pay the bills for you?” He was that annoying adult that fished, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “No, they don’t.” Reggie dipped the brush into paint and lathered it over the coffee can.

  “You eighteen?”

  “Yep.”

  Xander snorted. “Dude, I got out of prison six months ago, but I’m not an idiot.”

  Reggie glanced up, his mouth open. “Prison. What’d you do? Kill someone?”

  A sarcastic answer stopped at the tip of his tongue. Reggie’s lies didn’t merit drama from him. “I was set up to look like I was selling steroids. Spent five years paying for a crime I didn’t commit. When I got out, my family was nowhere to be seen, so I had to make my own way with some help from strangers. That’s what I’m doing with these workshops. Trying to help strangers make their own way, too.”

  Reggie nodded but kept working as if there would be a grade at the end of the time. In a way, he wasn’t wrong. If no one bought his work, he wouldn’t make any money.

  Xander stood to give him some space. “I’m going to check on the others. Be back in a minute.”