“Uh, Law?” Tim stopped him.
“Tim… I’m sorry you had to hear any of that,” Lawrence said as he tried to get past the young guy.
“I’m not. I understand not believing in yourself.” Tim pulled out his wallet.
“I believe in myself, Tim. I wouldn’t have this place if I didn’t believe in myself.” He nodded his head, realizing the truth.
“No, I’m not talking about your job. I’m talking about love.” Tim had pulled out a folded picture.
Lawrence stopped walking to the office and turned. “What?”
Tim unfolded the picture. “This is my former boyfriend. He loved working in the auto shop, loved fixing cars like you do. Like when he was done, he’d felt like he solved a physics equation. He told me once that he felt more satisfied bringing a car back to life than he did doing anything else in the world. He’s why I took the auto courses in college.”
“Did the two of you break up?” Lawrence asked.
“No, he killed himself because his family wanted him to be a surgeon, just like everyone else in the family.”
“Oh, Tim, I’m sorry.” Lawrence didn’t know what to say.
“It’s been a few years. I’m over it. But all the times I thought that no one would love me for my choices, I think back on him. I think back to his passion, and it renews me.”
Lawrence smiled. “Thank you for sharing your story, Tim. I’ll remember it.”
“You know the last thing he told me?” Tim called after Lawrence. “He said, ‘When I bring cars back to life, it’s like I’m a cardiologist bringing a patient back from the brink of death.’”
He couldn’t let Tim see the tears in his eyes. It was bad enough he’d seen the breakup and breakdown. “Thank you, Tim,” he managed, and ran for his car.
17
Curtis
Curtis ran down the Promenade and into the Brass Lamp.
“Hey, Curtis,” the bartender said.
“Hi.” He looked along the bar and asked, “Is Lawrence here?”
The bartender shook his head. “Haven’t seen him since the last meeting.”
“I’m meeting a friend for dinner.” Curtis looked around. “Is Marilyn –?”
The server tapped him on the shoulder and pointed across the room, where Marilyn was sitting at a corner table. “Thanks,” Curtis said, and headed to the table.
“I’m right here, darling.” Marilyn was seated in a chair opposite the one he pulled out.
The server handed them menus. “I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you,” Marilyn said. “Okay, so how did you mess this up?”
“I took my car to the shop where he works, and he mistook me for Jeffrey,” Curtis said.
“Dr. Gibson? You don’t look anything like him, and you’re thirty years younger.” Marilyn looked at the menu. “Do you know what you want?”
“I’m not hungry. I was sure this guy was the one for me, and he thinks I was laughing at him.” Curtis stopped for a second. “I don’t think it was that I looked like that asshole; I think it was something about me being a doctor. He kept avoiding telling me what he did.” Curtis looked at his phone for messages. “I bet Jeffrey made him feel like shit for it. And now he thinks that what we had was all a joke.”
“Jeffrey is an asshole. Look how he treated Christine! And I never told you about this, because it happened before you started working there, but he found my Filofax and found a receipt for a vibrator I’d purchased. Next thing I knew, there were a stack of vibrator ads ripped out of magazines and left under my Filofax. That asshole made me a laughingstock, until I took the bull by the horns with the threat of a lawsuit, and showing him I wasn’t ashamed of sex. He couldn’t handle a strong woman not backing down.”
“Uh huh,” Curtis said, looking at the door. Where was Law?
* * *
Marilyn tapped his hand. “Wait a minute… let me order something to eat first. I’m starving.” Marilyn motioned to the server.
The server finished wiping down another table before arriving to take Marilyn’s order.
“I’ll take the burrata and a glass of the house white wine. Curtis will have…?”
“I’ll have a latte. The way Law likes his,” Curtis said as he handed the menu back.
“Sure thing. Should I still be on the lookout for Lawrence?” the server asked.
“Yeah, if you see him,” Curtis said before she walked away.
“So, what does Dr. Gibson have to do with any of this?” Marilyn placed her hand on top of his.
“Apparently they dated back in the eighties, and Jeffrey left a bad taste in his mouth for doctors,” Curtis said.
“Jeffrey leaves a bad taste in everyone’s mouth.” She opened her mouth and gagged. “He gives us all a bad reputation.”
“Yeah, well, Jeffrey called him terrible things when he discovered that Law was a mechanic and treated him like rough trade that needed to be thrown out like garbage.” Curtis was angry with Jeffrey, as much as he was sad.
“Oh shit. Did you know he was a mechanic?” she asked.
“No, Law told me he was retired, but it doesn’t matter that he’s a mechanic. I felt so safe in his arms, I felt protected, and I had so much fun. What the fuck does it matter that he’s a mechanic?” he asked.
“It matters not one bit. Love happens no matter what. When I was in med school, did you know that Henry’s biggest aspiration was to climb Half Dome? I fell in love with this rugged mountain climber, a guy who missed half of his classes at school because he was hungover not from alcohol, but from the thrill of completing a hike and riding his mountain bike down a hillside.”
Curtis shook his head and leaned in. “Wait… What? Henry was a mountain climber?”
“Yes, he’s still making plans to one day hike to the top of Everest, but I told him I still want him around a little longer.” She pointed her finger at him.
The server slid the food and drinks across the table and walked off.
“In the Himalayas? I can’t imagine that.” Curtis shook his head and wrapped his hands around the latte that had been placed on the table.
“I can’t imagine who he’s become. That’s why I’m all for him exploring something with the one he chooses, and if that’s Dennis…” She shrugged. “At least I know he’ll be around a little longer.”
“Henry, a mountain climber.” Curtis laughed, then thought about the greased-up Law rising from beside the car. “Law, a mechanic.”
“At least your car will always be in tiptop shape,” she mused.
“If he ever shows up.” He took a picture of the latte and sent it along with a text.
What time should I expect you? I’ve got a large latte here with your name on it!
For a few minutes, the only sounds were of Marilyn’s spoon scraping the bowl and Curtis sipping the latte.
“I don’t think he’s going to show up.” Curtis drained the coffee and ordered a Guinness.
“It’s still early.” Marilyn reached across the table as the chair pulled out beside her and Henry took a seat.
“How was Half Dome?” Curtis asked.
Henry looked at Marilyn and closed his eyes. “You told him?” Henry remarked. “I thought you hated it when I goofed off.”
“I was making a point, dear husband.” Marilyn scooped the last of the burrata on a spoon and offered it to Henry, who opened his mouth.
He looked at Curtis. “It was exhilarating. I got up early one morning and piled my gear on my back. It took me all day, but at the top?” He closed his eyes, reliving the moment. “There’s nothing like that view. Everest is next!”
“You aren’t getting any younger,” Curtis laughed.
“Hey, I just heard a story about two seventy-year-olds who climbed to the top of Machu Picchu. I can do anything I set my mind to,” Henry said, as he stared off at the bar. “Hey, is Dennis dating that guy?”
Curtis turned to look. “Rick? No, they’re old friends. My old friends. We were roo
mmates when I was in college. Dennis, Thomas, Rick and I, four wild men, keeping each other sane.”
Henry grinned wickedly. “Oh, I bet those were great times.”
“They were shit times. There were four of us sharing a studio apartment, with a Murphy bed.”
“Who slept where? All of you in that bed?” Henry was intrigued.
Curtis laughed. “We took turns, Rick and Dennis were trying something at the time, but whenever Rick was ready, Dennis wasn’t, and vice versa.”
“So, they go way back,” Henry sighed.
Curtis leaned in. “Henry, let the class run its course, then maybe he’ll be open to something more. I think this class has something to do with his dissertation.”
“Oh, well, I don’t want to screw that up. He’d never talk to me.” Henry cupped his chin with his hand. “I suppose I’ll just stare from afar.”
Marilyn patted Henry’s shoulder. “Are you ready to stand up and talk about our museum travels?”
“I sure am.” Henry looked at Curtis. “Did you know that my wife harbors a secret passion for erotica?”
Curtis grinned. “I do remember finding one of her romances in the on-call room.”
Marilyn’s face turned a deep scarlet. “I am not ashamed of my secret passions, as you’ve heard.”
“You could have fooled me, friend,” Curtis grinned. He looked at his phone screen, searching for anything from Law. He lifted it to snap a photo of the last bit of stout.
Remember your comment about dark beer? It’s just like lunch, but it’s not a lunch I like because you aren’t here with me.
Dennis stood at the bar. “Hey friends, the second art class is about to meet. Come on in.” He left a kiss on Rick’s cheek and headed to the room.
“Did you bring the brochures?” Henry asked Marilyn.
“I did, even from your museum.” She lifted them up and fanned her face. “Are you ready?” She patted Curtis on the hand.
“I am. I guess he’s not going to show up. I’ll let them know,” Curtis said.
“Okay, we’ll see you in a bit.” Marilyn headed to the room.
Curtis caught the owner’s attention. “Hey, it looks like Law’s not going to be able to make it.”
“Okay, I hope everything’s all right. It’s not his hand, is it?” He looked between the doorway and Curtis.
“No, it’s worse. I’ll let him know what he missed. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just waiting on a possible partner in for the Brass Lamp.”
“I see. Do you think it’s that hottie reaching for the door?”
The owner turned to see a burly bear open the door. “I think that’s him.” They met at the door, and the other man extended his meaty hand.
The owner caught Curtis before moving on. “Let the teachers know I’ll be over as soon as I can, and I hope that everything is all right with Law.”
“Thanks, me too.” Curtis meandered toward the bar, finally stopping at Rick. “Hey, you and Dennis trying to hook up again?”
Rick turned. “Great running into you again, Curtis.”
They hugged. “I mean… wait.” Curtis drained his stout, and looked at the bartender. “Hey, can I get a glass of Zinfandel?”
“Yes, sir, coming up.” The bartender squatted to get a bottle from the back of the bar, pulled the cork, and poured into a glass.
“Breakup wine? I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Rick said.
“Can you just add it to my tab?” Curtis said.
The bartender nodded as he placed the glass in front of Curtis.
“It’d been mostly one-night stands, but I’d hoped it would develop into more.” Curtis twirled the glass stem between his fingers.
“So, you’re giving up on it?” Rick looked at him.
“I didn’t. I think he did.” Curtis took a sip of the sweet wine.
“Hmm… that’s what you always say.” Rick leaned forward over his beer.
“As you recall, I broke it off with Jeffrey.”
“As I recall, that one seemed to be mutual, especially when the hospital found out you almost didn’t pass because of something you two got caught doing,” Rick pointed out.
“Must you have a memory like a steel trap?” Curtis took a long sip. “I broke up with Thomas before it got too serious,” Curtis said.
Rick laughed. “You were too old for Thomas.”
“Too old? We’re nearly the same age.” Curtis took another sip.
“Exactly. He likes them a few years younger. He wanted someone to mold.” Rick made a motion like he was working with clay.
“Fine. I don’t have a great track record for long things,” Curtis sighed.
“No, from the tales you’ve told, you’re great with long things. Relationships, on the other hand?” Rick made a shaky motion with his hand. “Not so much.”
“Okay, look.” Curtis was starting to get a little tipsy. “I’m headed into my meeting, sans my coupled partner. But before I go, check out the hottie with the owner.” Curtis pointed at the man inspecting the coffee machine.
“He’s attractive, but not really my type. You were the only one of us with a penchant for older men.” Rick shook his head.
“Whatever.” Curtis took the glass and flounced away to take a seat beside Henry,
“Did you know there was a museum for manga?” Henry leaned in to whisper, then noticed Curtis’ glass. “Breakup wine? Are things that bad?”
Curtis smacked him in the shoulder.
Marilyn stood up and headed to the front row of chairs. “Come on, Henry.”
Curtis flipped through his phone and took a snap of Marilyn and Henry at the front of the room. It’s report night, if you change your mind, I’d love to take you to my favorite train museum.
18
Lawrence
Lawrence pulled into the driveway and maneuvered the Metropolitan onto the patio. His door smacked into a lounge chair, and he tripped over it and slammed into the table.
He walked to the garage side door and flipped the switch for the doors. They rolled up to reveal the covered car in the center of the room, under the silver cloth. He untied the bottom right corner and painstakingly rolled the cover off the same car he’d been in a couple of days ago.
He placed the cover on the workbench and headed to the driver’s side, slid the behind the wheel, and started the engine. With the flip of a switch, the top opened. He pulled out his phone and dialed his sister.
“Hey, Jude… I’m about to hop on the road. Think I can crash in the spare room tonight?”
“I didn’t know you were dating again,” she said.
“I’m not.” He looked away from the phone, as if she could see him.
“You only show up out of the blue when a breakup happens,” she sighed.
“I don’t do that.” Lawrence pursed his lips.
“After Mitzi and I got married, you showed up on our doorstep.” In the background he heard her fingers snap. “Because you said Jeffrey tossed you out.” She snapped her fingers again. “And before that, you showed up at my dorm when you got your heart broken by that pilot…” He heard another snap, and another. “And, there was the time when…”
“Okay, fine. Yeah,” he agreed. “You don’t have to keep counting them off. We hadn’t been seeing each other for long, but I think I fucked it up this time. I wasn’t tossed out; I did the tossing, and I feel like a total schmuck. I just need some air and coastal relaxation.”
“You need to run away?” She was stern, as though being his younger sister made it okay.
“Yes, sis… I need to run, and if you don’t have the room…”
“No, I’ll have Mitzi make up the spare room.” She sighed again. “When can we expect you?”
“I’m going to pack a bag and head out now.” He walked to the end of the driveway and saw his next-door neighbor wave him down. “I’ll see you soon.” He hung up. “Yes, Mrs. Biddle?”
“Mr. Barnsdale, is your boyfriend living with
you now?” Mrs. Biddle asked.
“What? No… why?” Lawrence didn’t have the patience for this.
“I saw his car in your garage.” She leaned over and pointed up the driveway.
“That’s my car, Mrs. Biddle, and even if it wasn’t, it’s none of your goddamn business if I’ve got someone living with me.” Lawrence was finished with her nosiness.
“I was just worried that you’d have your crazy parties again. Should I be afraid to hang up my laundry in my backyard?”
“Mrs. Biddle, we’ve got stone walls separating our property. I don’t know how you could see into my lot.” Lawrence’s voice got louder and angrier.
She shook her head. “You should still warn a lady. Your boyfriend was naked in the living room the other day.”
“I know. He told me.” His eyes narrowed, thinking back on that Saturday morning. “Did you have fun staring at my naked boyfriend?”
“I did not. I was startled, shocked in my tracks that a man would just stand in the middle of a picture window stark naked.” Her hands moved to clutch the pearls she wasn’t wearing, but he knew she owned.
I’m done with this. I need to get out of town. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I broke up with him, so you won’t have to worry about any men gracing my doorstep again.”
“Oh, my prayers have been answered!” She put her hands together, mocking prayer.
Lawrence jogged back to the bedroom and tossed shirts, shorts, and jeans into a duffel bag. He packed the car, locked everything up, and remembered to flip off Biddle as he drove around the corner and out of the neighborhood.
It was the perfect driving weather, and he was in Malibu before long. His trek took him up PCH into Ventura. His phone rang, and he put it on speaker.
“Sorry, I can barely hear you. Let me pull over.” Lawrence pulled to the side of the road and closed the roof. “Sorry about that. What’s up, Edgar?”
“Call me Ned, Uncle Larry, everyone else does. Besides, Edgar was the bastard that left Mom,” Ned said.
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