She Walks In Moonlight

by Jennifer Silverwood

  “See you got a new sign,” I said, observing the red-and-white sign. “I like it. Very retro. Like something you’d see on the front of your granddaddy’s garage.”

  Petey ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, the kids actually convinced me. Anya likes the colors.”

  “What did Sasha say?” I pulled in around the back entrance.

  Peter shrugged and hunched his shoulders in a perfect imitation of his son. “It’s cool, I guess… you know.”

  I laughed and cut the engine. “Thanks, by the way.”

  “For what, dragging you back to Smallville, America?”

  I leaned over the hood of my charcoal-gray Escape and patted her lovingly. “For keeping my first baby alive.”

  Peter’s laugh was music to my ears. “I couldn’t just get rid of Bertha, could I?”

  I shook my head and skipped up to loop my arm through his. “Not without facing my wrath. Still, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you sold it.”

  “How could I give up on that car after all the memories you gave it?” he teased, but I sensed he was talking about more than the car. I reached up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek before we walked through the back door.

  “So, who’s at work today? Anyone I know besides Leach?”

  “Not sure. I let Leach schedule this week since I wasn’t sure how much I’d be coming in. Guess we’ll find out.”

  After dodging some boxes and cleaning equipment stacked by the back door, we entered the office. I stopped Peter when I recognized the broad back hunched over the desk.

  “Okay, ma’am, listen to me. If you’re leaking fluid, that’s a bad sign, okay? You need to turn around and come by the shop right now.”

  I crept up as slowly and silently as my boots allowed on the linoleum.

  “No, don’t go home first, or you may not make it back up here, understand?”

  I pounced and jabbed at his ribs. Leach twisted around, face under his beard bright red, blue eyes livid until he recognized me. When I made for another grab, he caught my hand in his and shook his head with a slight grin.

  “All right, thank you. We’ll see you in a few minutes, Mrs. McSpadden.” He hung up the phone with exaggerated slowness and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re lucky you’re the boss’s kid sister.”

  I threw my arms over my chest to mimic his pose and cocked a hip. “Oh yeah? What do you plan on doing to me, anyway? We all know you’re just talk, Leach. No way would you beat me in a fair fight. See these guns?” I pointed to my bicep, which was less than half the size of that of my brother’s oldest American friend.

  Leach grabbed me around the neck and messed my recently brushed curls, ignoring my protests. “Like I said, lucky.”

  I cursed at him in Russian and reached around to jab his weak spot beneath the ribs. He squirmed and grunted but finally let me go.

  He took two cautious steps back, hands upheld. “Jeez! Don’t go all KGB on me, Pavlova.”

  Peter stepped between us and pushed through the stack of papers on top of the desk. “How’s the morning gone?”

  Leach turned to him and shrugged. “Pretty slow. I think Mrs. McSpadden has an oil leak. She didn’t realize leaking fluid was a bad sign.” He shook his head.

  “So, you’ll take care of that one.”

  Leach threw up his hands. “Me? What about Austin and Taylor? They need the practice.”

  Peter looked up at him with innocent eyes and a devilish smirk. “But Mrs. McSpadden trusts you, man.”

  I couldn’t resist interjecting, “She still trying to hook you up with her daughter? Surely, she gave up ten years ago.”

  Leach shuddered. “Tries and fails to hook us up. I ain’t seen Amber in twelve years. Woman’s been off on some Caribbean island working with sea turtles or some shit. But that old bat somehow got it in her head I’m the one.”

  “Let her hook you up!” I teased. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  Peter sighed. “I’m not letting Austin or Taylor out of my sight, and you shouldn’t either. They’re still on trial, remember?”

  Leach rubbed his left arm and smudged it with grease. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve been on their asses all morning. You don’t leave a monkey alone with a wrench.”

  Peter picked up a paper from underneath the pile, and a string of Russian expletive escaped his mouth. “We haven’t finished working on the old T-bird? That should have been done yesterday!”

  “Easy, boss. I already cleared it with Mr. Allen. He understands, man.”

  Peter sank into the chair and held his head in his hand. “Sorry, it’s been a long morning.”

  Leach looked at me and back to Peter. “Look, boss, I’m glad you’re here. I can keep a better eye on the moron twins over there. But you know I got it covered, right?”

  Peter scowled. “I can’t just sit at home.” He leaned back and checked the open door to the small lobby then the side door connecting the office to the garage. Only the occasional shouts and clank of tools made it past the blare of Metallica. “I might as well give up now if I don’t fight this,” my brother confessed and smiled at me. “Dani’s here to make sure I don’t push myself too far. Right, baby girl?”

  The urge to tear up kept my smile from turning into more than a grimace, but I stood straighter and gave him my best sass. “You bet your ass, Petey.”

  Leach laughed and nodded sharply. “Fair enough. If you got the office covered, I’m gonna go see what Moe and Curly are up to.” He headed for the door to the garage but glanced back at me one last time. “Glad you’re home, kid.”

  “Me too,” I said and only then realized how true that was.

  Two hours later, I had doodled on every good Post-it Note on Petey’s desk and listened to him answer more than one frustrating phone call. My brother was excellent at working the charm, but even he couldn’t disguise his annoyance with the calls from wannabe mechanics. Those were the people in town who tried to “talk shop” with professionals. Occasionally, they knew their business, most of the time not.

  The highlight of the afternoon came when Mrs. McSpadden arrived with her leaking hatchback Nissan. Leach was full of tense smiles and polite words. Mrs. McSpadden was full of new stories about her veterinarian daughter.

  “Dani, don’t hover by the door like that. You’re distracting the kids,” Peter called from the desk.

  I winked at Taylor, one of the kids Peter had hired fresh from the mechanic program at the high school, then walked back to sit on the edge of the main desk. “Can’t I say hello?”

  “When was the last time you just said ‘hello’ to a guy?” Peter deadpanned.

  “What?” I blinked with all the false innocence I could muster. “I thought you didn’t believe all those rumors!”

  Peter leaned back in his chair to appraise me with a look that said enough. “I said I didn’t believe the rumors people threw about you in high school, but I’m fully aware of your talent for flirting, and you’ve grown up since then, baby girl.”

  For some reason, a sick feeling welled up in me at the sad look in my brother’s eyes. I had always hated disappointing him, and I got the sense I had done exactly that. I thought briefly of my gypsy wandering over the European continent and the string of guys I’d left behind.

  “You don’t have to sit here with me all afternoon, you know.”

  “Maybe I just like hanging out at the garage with you.”

  “To think of all those times you whined and moaned about having to hang around the garage with me after school.”

  “Absence made my heart grow fonder,” I said.

  “Sure, sure… Listen, I need you to be home by three for the kids. The bus gets there early sometimes. Anya usually begs for a snack the second she walks through the door. Sasha is sneakier about it. He’ll go right for my stash of M&M’s if you don’t watch him. I don’t care if they eat some junk food, just not so it ruins their dinner.”

  “Jeez, you’ve gotten a lot stricter since I left home.” I poked him i
n the side.

  “Yeah, well, I learned a lot raising you.”

  “Hey! I turned out great!”

  Peter’s eyebrows shot up, and he opened his mouth with what promised to be a good comeback, but the front door to the lobby chimed. He stood to greet the new customer, and I peeked over his shoulder to catch a glimpse.

  “Hey, man! How’s it going?”

  I felt like a coward for ducking behind the desk just then. It wasn’t a big deal, or so I told myself. So what if Caleb Brewer had just walked through the front door?

  Not the end of the world, just your dignity, Pavlova.

  Caleb shook my brother’s hand and stuck his thumbs in his pockets. “I just came by to see if he was working on the T-bird today. Man, that is one sweet ride. Think Mr. Allen would notice if we took it for a joy ride?”

  Peter shook his head. “Pretty sure Allen would notice if you put one extra mile on his baby. Hey, Dani, you remember Caleb Brewer?”

  “Dani? Is she here?”

  I tugged the hair tie from my head and stood up from behind the desk. “Found my hair tie.” I walked into the lobby and gave my brother a nasty look before pasting on a wide grin. “Hey, Caleb.”

  Caleb Brewer was Adam King’s best friend—besides me, that is—or at least he had been Adam’s best guy friend ten years ago. Most of the wild parties in high school were thrown in the Brewers’ back field. His dad had been too drunk most nights to care what we did.

  Caleb was taller than I remembered but still built like a square. He had wrinkles around his mouth and at the corners of his dark eyes but had otherwise kept his boyish good looks. He smiled with all his teeth. The fact that they were slightly crooked had never bothered him.

  “Danica Pavlova,” he finally said with a shake of his head. His reaction eerily echoed Officer Green’s, and I wished I had any reputation other than the one I was given.

  “Looks like the rumors are true, after all,” he added with a tilt of his brow. “I always figured you’d come back through town at some point. Most of the gang bet you wouldn’t.” His grin widened. “I should thank you. I just became a rich man.”

  I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. “Guess something good came out of my coming home.”

  His grin faded, and his eyes rounded as he looked back and forth between me and Peter. “So, you’re back for good? Boy, will—”

  “Hey Brewer,” Peter interrupted, “if you want to check with Leach in the garage, he made this week’s work schedule. He’ll probably kiss you for pulling him away from Mrs. McSpadden.”

  Caleb stared at Peter in confusion before finally nodding. “Right… I’ll just, um,” he said as he took a step back and thumbed at the door, “you know… It was great seeing you again, Danica.” He clapped his hands. “Oh, hey, before I forget, I’m having a barbecue at my place tonight.”

  “Still in the back field?” I asked.

  Caleb shoved a hand back in his pocket while grabbing the door with the other. “We’ve actually graduated to the backyard since Dad passed.”

  “Oh, sorry…” I began, but Caleb waved my words away. If anything, he seemed more at peace than I’d ever known him to be.

  “Don’t mention it. You’ll come tonight, right? Gotta have you there so you can back me up in front of the gang. They’ll never believe you’re really back unless you show up.”

  I lifted my chin and tried to meet the unspoken challenge in his gaze. “I might come by later.”

  “Great.” He grinned. “See you later, Pavlova.”

  5

  Forever Young

  The bus breaks were screeching about the time I made it through the back door. I ran around the house like a mad woman, tossing keys and peeling off my boots by the dining table. I raced to the front door and unlocked it just as Sasha and Anya walked down the front walkway. Sasha looked both startled and surprised when I opened the door for them.

  “Aunt Dani!” Anya let go of her brother’s hand and threw her arms around my waist. “You’re still here!” She seemed to have one volume after school, but I hugged her back. It felt better than I expected.

  “How was school?” I called to Sasha as I shut the door behind us.

  He shrugged and slung his backpack by the stairs. “I have homework,” he said.

  “And you’re actually admitting it?” I asked, ignoring the funny look he gave me.

  Anya grabbed my hand and tugged me up and down until my arm felt like rubber. “Can I have a snack? And then can we watch Batman?”

  “Sure, shvibzak.”

  “I’m not an imp!” Anya protested.

  I darted ahead of Sasha and grabbed the M&M’s out of the pantry before he could reach them. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Sorry! I’ve got this awful sweet tooth. Can’t help myself, really. It’s why I’m so fat,” I said and twisted side to side to show them the imaginary pounds. Truth was I could eat all the M&M’s I wanted, thanks to a little metabolism and thyroid issue.

  Anya snorted and giggled. “Aunt Da-ani! You’re not fat!”

  “That’s what you think. I’m a fat girl at heart.” I pulled out a box of blueberries from the fridge and marveled at the lengths my brother’s parenting skills had grown. When I was little, we’d eaten like college dorm mates until I learned how to cook.

  Anya snagged the blueberries and ran into the living room to sit in front of the TV. She picked up a controller and stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she pressed buttons. Again, I marveled at the mastery kids these days had over modern tech. She probably knew more about it than I did.

  Sasha reached past me to grab a can of Pringles and gave me a fake smile. “Sorry, I have a real junk food tooth.”

  I ran a hand through his hair and rolled my eyes. “You and me both. C’mon. You can do your homework later.”

  Again, he looked at me with a blend of wonder and confusion. “You’re not what I thought you’d be like.”

  “Neither are you,” I teased.

  We sat down on the couch with Anya and settled in for some ’90s era cartoons.

  Truth was I sucked at being a parent. I’d tried to warn Peter before he let me have free rein over his kids. All I knew about kids was the fact that I used to be one and had hated the way most adults talked to me. I didn’t know how to treat my nephew and niece any differently from the people I talked to every day. The kids didn’t seem to mind too much.

  By the time we binge-watched three episodes of Animaniacs, Sasha was laughing as openly as Anya. When Peter walked through the front door, Sasha got up and pulled his homework out on the dining table without either of us saying a word. I grinned at the smell of pizza emanating from the boxes in my brother’s hands.

  “Compliments of Uncle Leach, kids,” he announced.

  Sasha and I competed to see who could eat the most pieces of pizza, and I won the prize. Sasha looked as though he would hurl after his four slices but kept it in.

  Peter showed me how to draw a bath for Anya and where the kids’ bedtime clothes were kept. Her bedroom was a clashing mix of Batman and pink. Sasha seemed to prefer more serious décor, judging from the science charts on his walls. The second I saw them, I understood why he wanted to do his homework. Sasha took care of himself for the most part, even did some of his own laundry. That sounded more like the parenting I remembered. Peter tried to make me as independent as possible from an early age. Sasha was the type who wouldn’t ask for help even if he needed it. I could relate.

  Anya demanded a bedtime story from me, and I couldn’t say no to her. I looked over my shoulder for my brother’s help, but he was already in Sasha’s room.

  “Please, Aunt Dani? Tell me about Baba Yaga! I like her stories.”

  “Really? You sure that’s not too scary before bed? She does like little children, you know, for supper.”

  Anya giggled. “Aunt Da-ani! She doesn’t eat little kids; she helps people.”

  “Most of the time,” I mused and thought back to all the
essays and research I had done on the mythic Russian figure.

  “Can you say it in Russian? Papa always tells us stories in Russian.”

  I nodded and chewed on my thumbnail a second as I thought of a more obscure one then began.

  The old Brewer place was about ten miles outside of town, hidden among the pines. It was almost impossible to find it unless you had been once before. Roads out here were winding and confusing during the day and treacherous at night. I kept one eye on the road and one on the trees, in case any deer decided to jump out in front of my little Escape.

  No moon shone tonight, thanks to recent rainfall, but I could have driven here with my eyes closed. Most Saturday nights of my high school career had been spent here with Adam and our other friends. Since I hadn’t had the guts to ask Peter or Caleb anything about Adam King, I was left to the suspense of not knowing whether he would show up.

  I turned into the half-mile-long drive leading to the old Brewer place and was surprised by the lack of junk in the front yard. No stray porcelain in sight. Several new outside lights lit up the rows of cars and the new coat of white paint on the one-story farmhouse. All in all, it was a far cry from the neglected state it had been in while old Mr. Brewer was alive.

  I grabbed the bottle of vodka I’d bought from the local liquor store and left the safety of my car behind. Music played in the backyard, and I could already smell a blend of smoked meat, burnt wood, and the forest bordering the property.

  I tried to approach the party going on in the back with light steps. I had changed into pants and a different shirt beneath my jacket but felt stupid because I’d put so much effort into my look.

  It doesn’t matter what these people think. They didn’t matter then, and they don’t matter now, I told myself. But I froze the moment I came around the corner and saw the people standing around the fire pit.

  “Danica Pavlova!” Caleb Brewer shouted and held his beer up high as he wove his way through the small crowd. He nearly tripped twice on his way to my side. I don’t think I could have moved forward on my own and was almost grateful when he threw his arm over my shoulders.