She shifted her recording, so the auto shop sign was in view. It must have been a Sunday morning since the shop was closed. “Edie and her women were finally able to figure out why my check engine light kept coming on despite the fact that I had just had the transmission and fuel pump replaced. They are a bit pricier than the big chain shops, but so worth it. Five stars!”
The video cut off and I had a stupid smile on my face. “She was so cool.”I looked up at Luke, whose face was very close to mine. In fact, his entire body was close to mine. We were arm to arm and I savored every single inch of it.
Taking a controlled, deep breath, I moved away before I did something stupid…like lick the side of his face. I really needed to stop being in the same room as him, alone. Maybe invest in a blindfold when he was around. Naw, the blindfold wouldn’t help. Unless, I was tied to the—
Edie. Focus.
Luke stepped back and tucked his phone in his pocket. “Maybe start giving twenty dollars off a bill if people leave you a video review and tag the page. Do you have Instagram?”
I shook my head. “No, but it can’t be that hard.”
He looked at me, bewildered. “You’re like the only twenty-five-year-old I know without social media.”
I scoffed. “Please. There’s at least three of us. Besides, you don’t have Instagram.”
“Ah, but I do.” He smiled, and my stomach flipped.
Was I missing out on pictures of Luke? “Wait, what?”
He pulled out his phone again and opened the app. His account came up with a picture of a rock as his avatar and zero posts.
I elbowed him. “You have no pictures. That doesn’t count, dork.”
“Hey, now. I follow people!”
“But you don’t post. Glad I’m not missing much.”
Luke touched his head with his index finger. “But the shop is missing. I can help set it up, add some pictures. You can even schedule posts! We’ll make you your own hashtag. #EdiesAuto.”
I studied him, trying to understand what was going on. “You’re making it really hard to not like you right now, and I really want to hate you because you’re trying to take away my shop.”
He studied his boots. “I’m not trying to take away your shop. I’m trying to make good on a promise I made to help a friend, and in order to do that, I need cash.” He looked up at me, his eyes pleading with me to understand. “It was never supposed to hurt you.”
He let out a long breath. “Now, come on. Where’s your computer? Let’s set up this account.”
I thought about being alone with Luke and my computer. In my room. “Uh…it’s not working right now,” I lied. I can’t be blamed. If he walked into my bedroom, my clothes would instantly evaporate. Poof! Then I’d be naked. Bad idea.
Great idea! my brain said. Get naked. Get him naked!
Luke narrowed his eyes for a moment as if he could tell I was lying, then pulled out a stool at my counter. “No problem. We can do it from my phone.”
I sat down next to him, trying not to touch any part of his body. This worked until he said, “You should do this. Learn the interface.” Then he put the phone in my hand, our fingers brushing. The jolt shocked me, and I dropped the phone on the counter with a muttered apology.
I was hyperaware of him the entire time we set up the account and wrote the bio. He followed it up by uploading a picture of me from earlier this week that was saved on his phone. I was standing next to his truck, tool in hand, sassy smile on my face.
Luke had a picture of me saved on his phone. Somehow this felt important.
He showed me how to use some fancy app to repost the video from Bridget onto the shop’s page. “There,” he said. “Just post every day, add a hashtag, and let’s hope you get an uptick in business!” He set the phone down between us.
I leaned in sideways and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “Thank you.” I amazed even myself when I didn’t bury my face in his neck and inhale deeply. I deserved a medal.
His hand wrapped around my forearm. “You’re welcome, Reeses. Now you just need a phone that knows what apps are.”
It took all my strength to pull away. “Ugh, that sounds horrifying.” I put my head on my hand and looked at him for a long moment. He seemed...unsettled. “Is this why you came over?”
He smiled and shook his head before reaching into his back pocket and grabbing his wallet. He pulled out a piece of paper that had been folded and refolded a hundred times and tossed it onto the bar in front of me. “I was going through some of Dad’s stuff packed away in Will’s basement. Found that and thought you’d want it.”
The paper was as soft as cotton. I unfolded it carefully as if it would disintegrate if I moved too fast. Flattening it out, I leaned close to read the faded cursive words. My grandpa’s words.
January 23, 1973
Dear Mario,
Dottie and I were so thrilled to hear President Nixon announce that the war is over! She cried and even I wept in relief. I thank God that you are coming home. I wish my brother Gerard was still alive to hear this news.
Everything is still the same in Grenadine as it was before you left, waiting for you to return. It will be hard to adjust to civilian life, although I’m sure you’re ready to get out of the jungle. I know I was. How terrible that we are six years apart in age, yet we fought in the same war?
Working on cars helps me cope. I’ve been doing more and more work around town because no one wants to drive twenty miles to get their oil changed. I’m happy to do it. It keeps the nightmares at bay.
We should open that automotive repair shop we talked about. I’ve got some money saved and Dottie wants to leave teaching so we can start a family. I’ll need your help running the shop. What do you think?
This can be a legacy we pass on to our children. Something to be proud of that doesn’t involve bloodshed. Something we built with our bare hands.
I wish you peace and safe travels, my dear friend. I can’t wait to see you.
Your Friend,
Edward
I didn’t even realize I was crying until Luke stuck a napkin in front of my face. “This is amazing,” I whispered, afraid talking too loud would somehow make the letter disappear.
He stood, and an unfamiliar emotion flickered in his eyes. Regret? “We have to find a way to save the shop so you can hang that letter on the wall.” He ran a hand through his hair and tugged. “That shop was their refuge.” He looked at me. “It’s yours too.”
I nodded.
“I wish I had a refuge,” he admitted so quietly, I almost thought my ears were playing a trick on me.
“I...” I started, swallowing hard. “You’re always welcome to come work with me if you ever leave disaster recovery. You know almost as much about cars as I do.”
He shrugged, refusing to meet my gaze. “The thing about that letter...I dunno. I was so mad at my dad for so long, you know? So angry that he could cheat on my mom, that everyone could just pretend our family was normal and okay and that I wasn’t some adopted mistake. But maybe it’s because Dad was never normal and okay again and Mom just did the best she could.”
I nodded. “Grandpa had demons, too. Sometimes, when he didn’t know I was there, I’d see the edge of them.”
Luke looked out the kitchen window and into the backyard, where my chicken coop sat at the front of a half acre of lawn, butting up to trees older than me. The grass needed mowing soon, but I just hadn’t gotten around to it.
“Mower still in the garage?” he asked. “Code the same?”
“Yep.”
“Get back to work. I’ll take care of your yard.”
“Luke,” I protested. “It’s okay. Jami promised to do it this week.”
A loud buzzing startled me, and I jumped, looking down at the counter. Luke’s phone was ringing, and a picture of a beautiful woman flashed across his screen. My chest was heavy as if I had just run three miles.
He snatched the phone and answered. “Hey there, Alice May
.”
I debated getting up to give him some privacy, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.
“Yeah, I’m coming home in a few weeks.” He paused, listening to her. “Miss you too. What’d the doctor say?” Still on the phone, he gave me a low wave and started walking out the back door.
Questions I wanted to ask bounced around my head. Who was Alice May? Did he miss her, or did he miss her? Why was she at the doctor?
Was she Luke’s friend? Girlfriend? I rubbed the heel of my hand against my chest, trying to ease the tightness. I needed to get back to the shop and talk to Tamicka about social media advertising. I needed to figure out how to make the money to save the shop. I needed to get my hands dirty.
I needed to start an Instagram page called “How Not to Jump Your Ex’s Brother Who Will Only Break Your Heart.”
Chapter Nine
Edie’s Tip #33: A friend is someone who shows up when you break down on the side of the road. A best friend is someone who helps you key your ex’s car.
The ambush happened right after I sank onto the couch after a long, hot bubble bath. They were lucky I had a tank and shorts on and wasn’t lounging around naked. Of course, I didn’t typically lounge around naked since clearly too many people had copies of my key.
Kristy barged in with a take-out bag from Ray’s. “We brought dinner, chica!”
Sam followed with Jami bringing up the rear. Sitting up, I eyed them all suspiciously. “You have Ray’s, Sam doesn’t come to movie night, and Jami is carrying a carton of ice cream from Mr. Moos. Who died?”
They all exchanged a look and Sam said, “I told you me being here was a dead giveaway.” He spun on his heel and followed Jami into the kitchen.
“You’re the one who wanted to come, babe!” Kristy called after him.
She dumped the food on my coffee table and sat next to me on the couch, sorting through the take-out containers. She handed me a plastic fork and container labeled “Edie.” I flipped it open to see my favorite—spinach lasagna. I set it down and stood up, hands on my hips. “Ray only makes me gluten-free lasagna on my birthday, and once right after I called off the wedding. That’s it.”
She held her hands up. “I may have called him earlier.”
“Why?”
“He was already making it.”
“James Joseph!” I yelled. “Get in here right now and tell me what the hell is going on!”
Sheepishly, he walked back into the room with my mail in his hands. He tossed the local daily paper and a magazine on the floor under the table and held out…I didn’t even know what it was. The most atrocious thing I had ever seen.
“Ew, what is that?” I asked, leaning in. “Is it alive?” It was like a piece of burlap and a pile of lace had been stuck together with a hot glue gun. Pieces of lace hung off the card with dangling, heart-shaped beads. “What is even happening right now? How did this go through the mail? I have so many questions.”
Jami came to sit on the other side of me and I instinctively leaned away from the thing in his hand, still not sure what it was. He shoved it in front of my face and I saw my name was burned into a thin piece of wood stuck to the lace-burlap monstrosity. “Miss Edith Doreen Becker.”
There was only one person, besides Jami when he was mad, who used my full name. I stared at him. “It’s from Mom?”
“Open it,” he said.
“Can I choose option B?”
He shoved it into my hand and I flinched, waiting for it to start sucking on my flesh. A solid ten seconds later, when it hadn’t moved on its own accord—at least I didn’t think it had—I flipped it over and found a flap sealed with wax. “There’s a lot of…crafting,” I said diplomatically.
“You know Mom doesn’t really know how to craft,” Jami muttered. “Remember when she volunteered to make the costumes for the Christmas pageant?”
Kristy, Jami, and I all sucked in a breath. “Who knew that Baby Jesus had a robot arm and seven glow necklaces?” Kristy asked. “I sure didn’t.”
After peeling back the wax seal and opening the envelope, I pulled out an invitation. A wedding invitation. A wedding invitation for my mom and my ex’s wedding. I rolled my eyes so hard, I swore they got stuck for like three seconds. “For fuck’s sake, how many times do I have to tell this woman no?!”
I looked at Jami. “It’s not a secret they’re getting hitched. I appreciate all the effort you went through, but I’m fine.”
“Read it,” Jami ordered.
I frowned and concentrated on the super flowery calligraphy. “Blah, blah, blah, request the honor of your presence at their wedding on September…” A rock lodged in my throat. My eyes scanned down the page as my hand started shaking.
Same day.
Same time.
Same venue.
Will was still going to get married on our wedding day. He’d just replaced the bride. Without a word, I stood up and walked over to the fireplace. After opening the flue, I grabbed the lighter on the mantel and set the invitation on the grate.
There was silence as I watched the flames lick around the non-recyclable paper. I wanted to put the envelope in too, but I figured the burlap and lace would stink up the place. I should bury it in the backyard with some salt, maybe burn some sage. Make sure it wasn’t cursed or something. That’d be my luck.
When the invitation was nothing but ash, I reached for my lasagna and a fork and took a big bite. I knew therapy eating wasn’t a good coping mechanism, but sometimes carbs and cheese were the only things that could heal a wound.
“I don’t even want him back!” I admitted through a mouthful of pasta. “I didn’t love him like I should, and he definitely didn’t love me enough. But why does she need to make everything about her? Why am I the one she constantly steps on to make herself feel better?”
Kristy put her arm around my shoulders. “Let it all out.”
I shoved another forkful in my mouth and chewed for a long moment, then swallowed. “I’d rather eat.” I pointed my fork at Sam. “If you want to make yourself useful, pick a bottle of wine from my wine rack and bring me a giant glass.”
He jumped up and escaped to the kitchen, clearly uncomfortable. I put my head on Kristy’s shoulder. “Poor Sam. You should’ve warned him.”
“I tried. He seemed to think our family was worth all the drama.”
“Well, you are.”
When Sam brought in two bottles of my favorite wine, I knew it was not going to be a sober night. To be fair, I only bought the good shit. Life was too short and money was too precious to buy mediocre alcohol.
I tossed my phone onto the coffee table. “Before I drink an entire bottle of wine, someone needs to take my phone away. I do not need to be drunk texting anyone.” I glared at said phone, annoyed that I hadn’t heard from Luke all day today. Or all day yesterday.
Pfft. Whatever. I hadn’t checked my messages for a good hour. Well, a half hour. Maybe more like fifteen minutes. I may have also texted myself from Chieka’s phone earlier to make sure my messages were working.
If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it have to admit it kept restarting its phone to make sure it was working? Asking for a friend.
Kristy snatched up my phone and tried to unlock the screen, pouting when she couldn’t remember the passcode. “Not fair. Who are you trying not to drunk text? Does his name rhyme with Yuke?”
I glared at her. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
Jami snorted. “Sure. He wasn’t the guy whose face you were sucking in your Camaro.”
Kristy and Sam shouted “WHAT?” at the same time. I threw a pillow at Jami’s face.
“It wasn’t like that!” I explained. “And I need way more wine for this conversation.”
Sam poured a good amount of wine in a coffee mug and handed it to me. “I get the phones if you’re drinking. There’s no drunk texting on my watch.”
Kristy rolled her eyes but handed him her phone. “Who am I goi
ng to drunk text? You’re here.”
He gave her an exasperated look. “Your mom, your sister, Aunt Cynthia, MY mom, and sister…maybe even my dad. I don’t know. You talk to everyone.” He looked at me. “I swear my family talks to her more than me.”
I looked between them and pursed my lips. “Yeah, that sounds like Kristy.”
Jami tried to hide his phone between the seat cushions and reached for a bottle of wine. “Nope!” I shouted. “Pony up! No phone, no wine.”
Sam shrugged. “You heard the boss.”
I tilted my half-empty mug at him. “Thank you. I like you. Welcome to the family.” I started singing “We Are Family.”
He chuckled as Jami handed his phone over after sending a quick text.
“The things I do for my sister,” Jami grumbled.
“Whatever, loser.” I studied him for a long moment. “Who, pray tell, are you texting?” He took a glass from Sam and took a swig to avoid answering. “Wait, why do Kristy and Jami get fancy glasses and I have a mug?”
Sam smirked. “Because you can fit half a bottle in that mug and it has a handle.”
I snapped my fingers and pointed at him. “Good man.”
Kristy elbowed me. “Spill.”
I rolled my eyes. “I got a bit tipsy at your wedding for...obvious reasons.” Kristy and Sam both winced. “Luke was at my shop when I came home. We were chilling in my Camaro and I read the situation wrong. Very wrong. The worst way wrong.”
“How wrong was that, again?” Sam teased.
“So wrong.” I sighed. “I tried to kiss him, and he absolutely did not kiss me back.”
Kristy and Sam both hissed. “Ouch,” he said.
I held up my mug in a toast and then drank it dry.
The night progressed with all of the carbs and both bottles of wine. Chieka showed up after an hour with gluten-free brownies. “I just got the invitation and thought you may need these.” She held up the plate of deliciousness. “They’re out of a box, but they’re full of chocolate, so how bad could they be?” She handed me the box to review the label.
Headlights, Dipsticks, & My Ex's Brother Page 7