Headlights, Dipsticks, & My Ex's Brother

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Headlights, Dipsticks, & My Ex's Brother Page 5

by Heather Novak


  Luke propelled us forward. “Let’s go, Edie.”

  My mother grabbed Luke’s arm and he dropped his arm from my shoulder before turning around and carefully disengaging her claw. “We made a deal, Luke,” she spat.

  He stepped away from her. “We made a deal under false pretenses. Like, I thought you were a decent human being.” He pulled me back tight against him as if he was trying to shield me from her wrath. He rushed us outside and down the sidewalk, weaving around a plethora of baby carriages and families out enjoying the summer day.

  “Forgive my phrasing, but when did your mother go fucking nuts?” Luke asked.

  I laughed without humor. “She usually hides the dragon better. Must be tired from her performance last night.”

  His arm tightened. “I thought you had an okay relationship? I knew it was rocky sometimes, but not like this.”

  I shrugged. “Everything got worse after Grandpa died.” I knew grief did crazy things to people, which apparently also included turning into a terrible, self-absorbed woman with no regard for her daughter’s dreams.

  By the loud stomping of her heels, I knew Mom was closing in. There was really no use in running; she could win the Boston Marathon in those shoes. But if we made it to the shop, at least we would be on my turf.

  She gained on us and stepped in front of Luke as we reached my parking lot. She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “You know good and well no one else is going to give you the price you need in cash. My investor will go to two fifty.”

  Luke tensed and heat burned up my neck. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars? I couldn’t compete with that. Especially not that quickly.

  She turned her laser-blue eyes to me, and Luke’s arm still around my shoulders was the only thing that kept me from shrinking back. “We’re meeting Monday morning at eleven at Missy’s to try on bridesmaid dresses. Don’t be late.”

  A single, loud guffaw fell out of my mouth. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes. I was still drunk. That was the only explanation. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  My mother rolled her eyes, clearly put out at having to repeat herself. “We are meeting at Missy’s to try on dresses at eleven.” She spoke slowly and enunciated each word. “I already ordered my dress—it’s custom so I had to get that started ages ago. But you and the girls still need dresses and we don’t have much time. And you know with your teenage-boy body, they’re going to need to do a lot of alterations.”

  I was in so much shock, the teenage-boy-body comment didn’t even faze me. “You expect me to be a bridesmaid in your wedding to my ex-fiancé?”

  She looked bewildered. “Well, of course! You’re my only daughter.”

  I stared at her. “You have two daughters.”

  “You know what I mean.” She waved me off. “Clementine lives with her dad; it’s not the same.”

  “Jesus,” I whispered, then looked up at Luke. “I’ve changed my mind. Let’s sell the shop. We’ll jump in your truck and just drive until we fall into the ocean.”

  Mom put her hands on her hips. “I don’t appreciate your attitude, young lady!”

  I put my hands on my hips. Like mother, like daughter. “Mom! First, I have a meeting with the bank on Monday because, unlike you, I’m trying to save my shop. Second, I am not going to be in your wedding. I am not going to your wedding. I’m not sending you a card, a present, or even a text. I will not be at Missy’s on Monday.”

  She looked like I had slapped her. “I don’t see what your problem is! I’m your mother! This is your responsibility as my daughter.”

  Luke stepped between us. “Cynthia, maybe you two could talk about this when you’re both calmer.” He stared her down and she took a step back under the force of his gaze. My heart skipped a beat. He was standing up for me. No one but Jami had ever stood up for me. Will used to say I was just being mean to Mom and needed to give her a chance. Talk about a red flag.

  My mom looked between Luke and me, calculating. “You know, you’re going to be her step-uncle soon. A relationship between the two of you would be wholly inappropriate.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Mom! You are marrying my ex-fiancé. Why on Earth would I be in your wedding?”

  “Language, Edith. And it’s not my fault you let him get away.”

  Luke ahemed loudly. “Cynthia, congratulations on your engagement. Welcome to the family and all that. Edie’s had a long night and will call you later.”

  “No, I won’t!” I sniped.

  Luke gave me a sideways look. Not helping, it said.

  “Luke, you have no right to interrupt a discussion between me and my daughter,” my mom said in a voice so cold, it gave me chills. “What would your mother say? Or should I say, your adoptive mother?”

  Bull’s-eye. This woman was vicious.

  Luke reeled back as if he had been shot, and I saw red. Yes, it was true, his dad had an affair early in their marriage, but Caterina Moretti loved Luke as if he were her own. If you asked her, she’d say she would always be Luke’s mom, no matter that some other woman had given birth to him and left him on the Moretti’s front porch.

  I took a step forward ready to get in my mother’s face when I heard feathers rustling. I watched in pure joy as my rooster, who’d clearly had enough of the yelling, walked out from the bush behind Mom and promptly pooped on her shoe.

  I covered my mouth, trying to contain the laughter that bubbled up inside. He was so getting an extra treat for dinner. When my mother started screaming, I couldn’t keep silent. Tears pooled in my eyes as my entire body shook with amusement.

  I couldn’t even understand her threats as she stomped off to her Audi parked in front of the shop. Instead, I grabbed Luke’s arm and bent over at the waist, trying to get a lungful of air. “Oh God, did you see her face?!” I wheezed.

  Luke wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’ll never forget it as long as I live.”

  Sergeant Cornflakes waddled by and I scooped him up, petting him. “You’re such a good birdie, yes you are! The best birdie in the whole wide world.” He squawked, and I let him go before he pecked me to death. He definitely would never be a therapy animal, that’s for sure. He was very much like a cat, only more of an asshole.

  Once we had recovered enough to dry our eyes, Luke handed me my take-out container. “Sorry breakfast didn’t really work out.”

  I accepted the container and nodded toward my place. “Wanna come in and eat?”

  He shook his head. “Naw, you’ve had enough excitement today. You go rest. You okay if I catch up with Tamicka and look over the books?”

  It was as if he splashed a bucket of cold water over me. The comradery, the laughter, the knowing looks. They didn’t mean anything. He was here for the shop. “Sure, that’d be fine.” I hated how unsteady my voice sounded. “But you don’t have to ask. You’re more the owner than I am.”

  “In name only. You know this is your shop, Reeses. And I want to help you try to save it.”

  I nodded and lifted my container, backing away. “Thanks for breakfast.”

  “Anytime.”

  I turned and made a beeline for my front door. I could feel his eyes on me the entire way, which made me walk faster and faster until I was nearly running. I needed to eat, nap, and then Google how not to be hung up on your ex’s brother, especially when he was going to ruin your life.

  Chapter Six

  Edie’s Tip #27: Timing is everything. Just ask your timing belt

  Sunday was my favorite day because the shop was closed and my mother was at church then brunch, leaving the morning hours blissful and quiet. Sergeant Cornflakes was curled up on a pile of rags I had in the corner as I worked under the hood of my beautiful Camaro. National Public Radio’s Car Talk podcast played at full volume.

  I paused my work, listening to a caller describe her car trouble like man trouble. I snorted. “It’s your fuel pump!” I called out to the radio. The show had been in reruns since 2012, but I still liked to pretend they
could hear me.

  “Really? I would’ve said transmission.”

  I screamed, jumping high enough to hit my head on the hood and knocking a wrench to the ground with my elbow. The loud clang made my rooster squawk, feathers flying everywhere. Both of my hands went to my chest, trying to put my heart back inside. “Jesus, Luke! Warn a girl!” I bent over and put my hands on my knees to catch my breath.

  He was struggling to contain his laughter as he approached with his hands in the air as if I were a skittish animal. The hosts of the show seconded my opinion, saying the issue was probably with her fuel pump. Luke pointed at me. “And that’s why you’re the best mechanic I know.”

  I play-kicked his shin and he put his arm around my shoulder, placing his hand on my neck to bend my head toward him. He ran his fingers over the tender spot that had just hit metal. I would hit my head every day if it meant having him touch me like this.

  “You’re not bleeding, so that’s good,” he said. “I think if you needed stitches, they would have to shave your head.” I poked him in the side and he jumped away, laughing.

  I pulled off my gloves and narrowed my eyes. “How’d you find me?”

  He put his hands in the front pockets of his faded jeans. They were perfectly sculpted to his hips and thighs and—

  Edie, down girl.

  “Process of elimination. It’s Sunday morning, you’re agnostic, and you’re avoiding your mother. You wouldn’t be at church or brunch, the bakery is closed, and you didn’t answer your doorbell.” He shrugged, smirking.

  I nodded and pursed my lips. “Yeah, okay. I’m easy.” Luke smirked as I tossed the rag onto my workbench. “Want some coffee?” I held my breath as I walked past him, not trusting myself. If he smelled good, it would go to my head and I had a feeling this was a business call.

  “Can you supply it intravenously?” He followed me a little too close and his scent wrapped around me.

  Him.

  Shut it, brain.

  I dug through the cabinet, locating the good stuff Tamicka had ground yesterday and loaded the machine. Closing my eyes, I inhaled the rich scent. Luke made a choking sound and my eyes flew open. His dark gaze was locked on my face, his eyes even more green than usual.

  Heat went up the back of my neck and I spun to face the cabinet and pulled down two mugs. Tired of the pot taking so long to fill and needing something to do with my hands, I expertly switched it out for a mug, then the second one. Without looking directly at him, I held one out to Luke. “Sugar and cream are down on the left.”

  His hand wrapped around mine as he took the mug and didn’t pull away for a long moment. My entire body pulsed awake and my eyes met his. He was too close again. All I would have to do is lean forward, just a little bit, and our lips would be touching.

  Remember how well that went last time?

  My brain was great at dashing all my hopes and dreams like that.

  Letting out a long breath, I sidled over to the sugar and grabbed a packet, carefully ripping it open so sugar didn’t fly everywhere. That happened way more often than I’d care to admit. “So what has you in the shop on a Sunday morning?” Steeling myself, I glanced over at him.

  He was leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee and staring at a grease spot on the floor. “Outside of the few spots on the floor, this place is immaculate.”

  My eyes widened in confusion. “Yeah...”

  “Most shops I’ve been in are filthy.”

  I let out a humorless laugh. “Grandpa would haunt the shit out of me if I left his shop dirty. Are you kidding me? I can practically hear him rolling up the newspaper just talking about it.”

  Luke chuckled. “Just like my dad and the sound of his belt.” He took a gulp of coffee and I shamelessly watched his Adam’s apple move. Why was that so sexy?

  “Have you seen him since you’ve been back?”

  He shook his head. “Nurse said he wasn’t having a good weekend and to try in a few days.”

  I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “Anyway, I spent some time going through the books.” He looked over at me. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “And tell you what? We are in trouble? What were you going to do from...wherever you’re living now?”

  He crossed one booted foot over the other. “Home base is in North Carolina, but I’m usually on the road.”

  “Still doing disaster recovery?”

  “Yep.” He looked down at his feet.

  I took him in, still trying to recognize this stranger over the man I had known my entire life. He looked worn down, tired in a way sleep wouldn’t fix. His nails were short but ragged, as if he had chewed them down. His stubble had grown in so much, it was becoming a beard.

  T-shirts used to hug his broad shoulders and chest from years of staying in perfect shape. Now his shirt drooped, a small hole in the collar. What happened to you, Luke? I hopped up on the counter and rested my arms on my knees. “Why do you need the money?”

  He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes for a long moment.

  “Gambling? Addiction? Shopping habit? Losing a bet on an alpaca race?”

  He smirked. “What exactly is an alpaca race?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, but it sounds lovely.”

  He glanced over at me. “I always forget how much I’ve missed you until I see you again.”

  His admission did something funny to my chest, as if he cracked it open and put a flapping bat inside. This banter needed to stop immediately. “Luke, seriously, why do you need the money? What’s so important that it can’t wait?”

  He shook his head, his face going blank. He was shutting down. “You know I wouldn’t force my hand unless I had to, Edith. And I have to.”

  He used my real name, meaning he was serious. There was no arguing with that. “What do you make of the books?”

  “You and Will split, what, eight months ago?”

  I nodded.

  “Business has been steadily declining since then. You need to make cuts.”

  I pushed the heels of my hands into my forehead. “I know. I know you’re right. But…fuck.”

  “At the rate you’re going, you’ll be out of business by next winter.”

  I let my hands fall to my lap. “Does it even matter? Even if I sold the Camaro and used all my savings to advertise, I still wouldn’t make the money in three weeks.”

  He looked chagrined. “I know,” he whispered.

  Tears stung the back of my eyes. “Listen, I’m going to get back...” I pointed to my Camaro. “I do my best thinking under the hood.”

  He nodded. “You do.”

  “She’s almost running.”

  “I can’t wait to take a ride in her.”

  I hopped off the counter and put my hand on his arm. “I’m sorry for whatever’s going on. It must be hard.” As I spoke the words, I knew they were the right ones. Whatever brought him back to this town he’d sworn off, whatever put the dark circles under his eyes, was the real demon.

  His hand covered mine before I could remove it. “I lost a friend.”

  “I’m sorry about your friend.” I put my other hand on top of his and squeezed.

  He nodded, his hair brushing against mine. “Me too.”

  Disengaging my hands, I pulled away, immediately feeling the loss. He was the one person I wanted to turn to for comfort, but he was the reason my heart was breaking. “Seriously, Luke. I’m working on a solution.”

  “I hope so, Reeses,” he said. “Because I don’t know what to do.”

  Chapter Seven

  Edie’s Tip #11: Ignoring the check engine light works only until you’re stuck on the side of a deserted road in a thunderstorm. We’ve all seen that horror movie.

  The beauty of wearing makeup was that I rarely cried with it on. Mascara running down your face or smeared eyeliner was not a professional look. And it was damn expensive. I was not going to waste all this excellent makeup on an angry cry.

  A
nyway, I was determined not to shrink under Danny Fallon’s assessing glances. I dug my stubby nails into my palm. This guy had cheated off me in biology and now he was deciding my livelihood. Maybe I should’ve said yes to that date back in high school. Dammit sixteen-year-old me! Way to not think ahead.

  “Ms. Becker—”

  “Danny, I’ve known you since first grade. You can call me Edie.”

  He folded his hands in front of him, his too-big suit coat bunching at his shoulders. “There’s no way we can give you a business loan. You’re already paying off a substantial personal loan. If we gave you more money, you couldn’t afford the payments.” He pushed a piece of paper across the desk. “This would be your new estimated monthly payment if we approved the loan.”

  My vision went hazy for a moment. That was a really, really big number. I put one hand on the edge of the wood laminate desk to steady myself, determined to make it work. Somehow. “Okay, but if I were to get the loan, I’d save the shop. I could advertise more—”

  He leaned back in his chair, the squeak cutting me off. “Sixty percent of this town was born here, and the other forty percent have been here for years. They all know where your shop is, Edie. Advertising isn’t going to fix this. All of the franchises in a twenty-mile radius disappearing would fix this.”

  My leg was jiggling with nerves, and I pressed both palms on the desk as if pushing against it would change his answer. “I’m going to lose my house and my shop without the loan.”

  Danny leaned forward. “I think you should consider selling. It’s your best option. Buy yourself one of the new condos your mom’s building and live a maintenance-free life.”

  I gave up being professional and pressed my forehead to the desk. Danny’s great-grandfather was one of the founders of this town and had opened this credit union nearly a century ago. Silly me for thinking he’d understand. “Danny, what would you do if you were going to lose the credit union?” When he didn’t answer, I looked up to find him frowning at me.

 

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