“No. Not at all. It’s just a lot to take in. I actually enjoy this afterlife. It’s kind of like how I was when I alive, but the world is some odd mirror image. I’m still me, but I don’t worry so much about taste or smell or touch. It’s more philosophical.”
“And is there a heaven or hell?” I’d wanted to ask this question for a long time, but never had the courage to bring it up.
“You pretty much go to the afterlife you believe awaits you,” he said. “But if you believed in a Christian heaven, but didn’t behave like a good Christian, don’t expect to go there.”
“Are you still around because you were agnostic?”
“In part, yes. I always believed this plane was all there was. Even now that I know otherwise, I choose to linger. I’ve got all the books, newspapers and magazines in the world to read. I can soak up all the information and news and trends, and get in to any hockey or baseball game I’d like to see. The same goes for movies. There’s enough here to entertain me for a very long time, so I have no intention of leaving.”
“Thank you, Dad. For both your help, and for just being there.”
“I’m always willing to help, Poppy. Just be careful with this one. Follow your instincts. And listen to your friends, too. That Emily lady you’ve mentioned, the one who knows what people want or need, she might be a big help. Your mother has some natural smarts on these things, too.”
“Have you been in contact with my mother since you died?”
“Oh, yes. She called me to her a couple times.”
“Seriously?” My mouth gaped open in shock. “But why?”
“She was still mad about the divorce, never mind that it had happened many years prior. So she trapped me in a pentacle and chewed me out. Then, once she’d had her say, she released me.”
“Huh. I’d never tried that before. So you mean stuff like that actually works?”
“Well, she damn well had something to get off her chest, and she’s a determined woman, so of course it worked.”
“I can’t believe it,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief.
“Come on,” my father prodded. “This is your mother, after all.”
He had a point.
With that, he nodded and vanished into nothingness, and I was left alone to my books and my thoughts.
10
That weekend, before I opened my shop, I went to Mom and Tom’s for a bit of help.
Tom had plans to head to St. Ignace for the day since he’d heard of a huge auction and had designs on some antique farm equipment.
“Do people actually go for that?” I asked. “I’d think you’d want state-of-the-art farm equipment.”
“It’s not for farmers, hon. It’s for those hipsters who want to decorate their homes with barn doors and the like. They’ll pay big money for some rusty old items for their shabby chic homes or rustic yards, or whatever they call them these days.”
“Good point,” I said. “I hadn’t thought of that. I have seen that sort of thing online, barn doors being used indoors and whatnot. I hope you find something good.”
“Me and you both. I’ll be back later this afternoon. I’ll be getting pasties from Darlene Colter. A big batch to freeze. Want any?”
“Sure.” I definitely wanted some of Darlene’s pasties. Her meat, onion and rutabaga-filled pastries were the best I’d ever tried. “Bring me a few. I’ll pay you later, if that’s alright.”
“Nah. You’re family. No money owed. You can pay me back by baking me some treats this fall and winter. I’d never say no to that. Your mother’s an excellent cook,” he said, looking toward the back of the house, clearly hoping my mother couldn’t hear, “but her baking leaves something to be desired.” He told me she got experimental and tried something from scratch a couple weeks ago. “It was so heavy it was like a brick sat in my stomach for three days. Even the dogs wouldn’t eat it.”
I laughed. “What do you do when she bakes? Your sweet tooth is legendary. Anyone who knows you knows you’re going back not just for seconds, but thirds, if there’s dessert to be had.”
“Well, if Hooper and Beanie start looking a bit fat …”
I snorted at that. Hooper especially seemed to be expanding. “I’ll keep your secret safe. I love walking the dogs, too, so we’ll shrink the boys down to keep Mom oblivious. With the weather getting chillier, I’m getting an itch to bake. I’ll bring you goodies. I picked up more apples at the market, too, so I see more pie in your future.”
“That sounds excellent, hon. I’ll be back this afternoon. I’ll see you later,” he said, slipping a cap on his head and heading toward the door. “Come on, Hoop and Bean, let’s go for a ride.”
“Oh, and one more thing, Tom?”
“Yes?”
I told him about my muffler. “I meant to ask you this the other day, but it slipped my mind. The guy I was going to before, his shop just closed down. I was starting to think he had overcharged me a couple times anyways.”
“Were you going to Delroy’s?” Tom asked.
I nodded.
“Yup. You were being overcharged. Word is he recommended repairs that weren’t needed. Especially when women are concerned.”
“Did you get word out? Is that why he’s out of business?”
“No,” Tom said. “He simply overcharged the wrong person.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Me,” my mother said as she made her way into the room. “He tried to charge me fifty dollars for an oil change, so I put a curse on him.”
Tom waved her off. He didn’t mind the magic, but he didn’t want to know how the proverbial sausage was made either.
“He overcharged me, and I learned he overcharged some friends, so I went to his shop and sat in his parking lot after it closed. It was empty and I imagined that it stayed empty – of his customers, at least. Not long after that, his shop closed.”
“Did you really do that?” I asked.
“Don’t encourage her, Poppy,” Tom warned.
“I can’t help it. I want to know.”
“Of course I did,” my mother said. “I was on my way back from Walmart one night and stopped over by his shop to curse him. It was the final item on my to-do list for the day.” Her expression was serene.
“What? You had a list that said coffee, lube, laundry detergent and ‘curse crooked mechanic’ on it?” I was joking. Sort of.
“Something like that.”
“‘Lube?’” Tom said. “You two are more alike than either of you care to realize.”
“Well, Mom always tends to go on about how I need a man and how I need to keep my equipment primed. It seems all too plausible that she’d put lube on her shopping list.”
“I hadn’t,” Mom said, “but that’s a good idea.” She crossed her arms and a satisfied smile spread across her face. “As for Delroy, he also was cheating on his wife. She has proof, so she’s taking him to the cleaners,” she added, clearly taking pleasure in his comeuppance.
“Simply awesome,” I replied, before turning back to Tom. “So, Tom, I seem to remember you mentioning someone from your AA meetings, and you said that he was honest. And affordable?”
“I do know someone,” Tom said. He told me where the shop was. “Tell him you’re Tom Wheeler’s daughter or stepdaughter, however you want to phrase it. He’ll be good to you.”
“I suggest you head to his shop today to make an appointment,” my mother said brightly. “You’re wearing a dress for once, and it actually shows you’re an honest-to-god woman underneath it all.”
“Fiona!” Tom waved her off as he snatched his keys and made his way out the door. “I don’t need to hear you pimping out your own daughter!”
He called the dogs and made his way to the door before quickly returning to give my mom a warm kiss on the cheek. “Behave yourself, my little cactus flower.”
“Cactus flower?” My mother and I replied in unison. “That’s a new one.”
Tom tended to refer to her as some sort
of flower or type or sweet when he was trying to butter her up or smooth her ruffled feathers.
“Let’s just say our trip to Vegas inspired me,” Tom said.
“I didn’t think cacti grew in the desert around Las Vegas,” I replied.
“No, they don’t,” Tom agreed, “but we rented a car and took a road trip into Arizona, and those thorny beauties reminded me of my prickly love.”
“You’re comparing me to a desert plant that has long, sharp needles growing out of it?” my mother asked, raising an eyebrow.
Tom nodded. “Consider it a compliment.”
“How?” Mom replied.
“Just look at your sparkly ring, dear.”
Mom looked down at her left hand and smiled at the glittering diamonds. “Alright, you’re forgiven.”
“Of course. Now be on your best behavior while I’m away, my little cactus flower.”
“No promises,” she replied.
11
Armed with the information Tom gave me about his mechanic buddy, I managed to evade my mother’s efforts to meddle.
(Hint: It involved double-sized tape and hemming the skirt of my dress three inches higher).
I slipped into my car and drove to the shop.
I’d been trying to glamour my car so it sounded quieter when I drove past any police, but I couldn’t be sure if it was working or if I’d simply been lucky. Now I decided it was “go” time for a new muffler. The peak of the tourist season was past, so I’d resolved to make time to handle the chore. Plus, the old man who lived next door to me had commented on it more than once, and he was hard of hearing. Really hard of hearing. It was time.
When I walked inside the car shop, I found two older men talking about the college hockey team’s prospects for the season. They turned in my direction a moment later.
The one behind the counter, who had slicked-back black hair and wore a slate blue work shirt with a name tag that said “Adam,” gave me the once-over and greeted me with a smile. “Mornin’, Red. What can we do ya for?” A toothpick dangled from the corner of his mouth.
I smiled in response, and leaned against the counter. “Hi. I was looking for Roger.”
His smile deflated somewhat. “Of course. All the girls are,” giving me a leery wink. He craned his neck back toward the garage area and shouted for Roger. I heard something unintelligible in response. Adam turned to me and promised Roger would be with me in a moment. He was a good deal taller than me and was making every effort to stand even more upright, so I got the distinct impression he was trying to glance down the front of my dress.
“Thanks,” I said, as I glanced toward the waiting area. I figured I’d have a seat, and put a bit of distance between myself and his wandering eyes. There was a board above the counter with the prices listed for various services. A sign on the wall urged customers to leave their email addresses or to “like” them on Facebook for specials and deals. A laminated newspaper article hung next to that.
The coffee maker was on, brewing a fresh pot of java. I glanced at it and took a tentative whiff, then a deeper one. It smelled surprisingly good for coffee brewing at a car repair shop, which usually tended to be on its last dregs and smelled sad, old and burnt.
I sat by the window, picked up a celebrity gossip magazine and flipped through it while the old-timers chatted. Adam was predicting a worse-than-usual winter. His friend agreed, but thought it would be bitter cold, but Adam held firm that it would be warmer than normal, but we’d see much more snow.
“What do ya think, Red?” Adam directed a question to me.
“I honestly haven’t given it much thought. All I can say is I know the snow is coming. And in these parts, thanks to the lake, it’s almost always sooner than later.”
“Ya got that one right,” Adam nodded, sipping on his mug of coffee.
“We did have a lot of heavy fogs in August,” I continued. “That’s traditionally the sign of a rough winter, right?”
“The gal knows her stuff, eh? That’s true. Also, the spiders have been building some mighty large webs this year. That’s another sign.”
I thought back to the huge web I kept sweeping away from my back porch all summer long. The arachnids had been pretty persistent this season.
“Squirrels’ and raccoons’ tails have gotten thick, too,” Adam’s friend added. “Probably be putting the snow chains on the tires early this year.” He wandered over to the coffee pot and poured some into a styrofoam cup. “Would you like some?” he asked, his watery blue eyes fixed on my face.
I shook my head. “No thanks. Maybe a bit later. It sure smells good, though.”
“Roger loves his coffee,” Adam said. “He won’t even consider the cheap stuff.”
A moment later I picked up on the distinctive scent of Love’s Baby Soft, roses, lilies and rosemary. It rustled past my nose, competing with the smell of brewed coffee and motor oil.
“Okay, Adam. I’m done. Who’s looking for me?”
I looked up and felt a spark of surprise as I saw Roger Montgomery coming in from the garage and wiping his hands on a rag.
“Oh, it’s you,” I said.
Some part of me had hoped the Roger Tom had mentioned would be this guy, but I wasn’t sure. His eyes widened when he saw me, and the scent of the perfume, flowers and rosemary evaporated. I suddenly picked up an earthy whiff of jasmine, a wave of fresh-baked bread and a hint of musk.
“I know you,” he said. “I was in your shop the other day. We meet again.” He walked over, then poured himself a cup of coffee. He held the carafe up, raising his eyebrows in question.
“No, thank you. Adam and his friend there already asked me if I’d like some. Maybe in a bit. It smells really good, though. Not like the old burnt stuff you see at the QwikLoob up on the spur, or at the Chevy dealer where I bought my car.”
“Ah. Delroy’s old place.” He grimaced and sat down. “So, what are you here for?”
“Well,” I paused, smoothing my hands over my lap, feeling both excited and nervous while looking at him. He was wearing a pair of gray coveralls and looked really good in them. He had long strong legs and sat back, with his legs a couple feet apart.
I had the urge to climb on his lap.
I crossed my legs and smiled at him, happy I decided to wear a dress after all, and that I had shaved my legs. I also started to wish I’d taken my mom’s suggestion about the double-stick tape.
I was still fine with ignoring her suggestion to go braless, at least with old Adam around. Maybe my mother would have gotten off on having him ogle her, but I wasn’t interested in being everyone’s eye candy.
Roger glanced down and the scent of jasmine intensified.
A couple buttons were undone at the top of his coveralls and I could see a Henley shirt underneath. A few chest hairs were apparent. I glanced up to take in his broad shoulders and told myself not to let my mind wander.
He leaned in toward me. “Are you wearing a different perfume?”
“From when?”
“The other day, I noticed something lighter around you. Today you smell different.”
I was caught off guard, for a moment wondering if I’d forgotten to apply deodorant. “Hopefully it’s not something bad.”
He shook his head. “No, not bad at all. It’s nice. It’s heavier than what you had on the other day. It makes me think of a garden at night.”
That was interesting.
“Now that you mention it, I am wearing something different. In fact, it’s called Midnight Garden.” I’d ordered something off the internet. It was an intense cocktail of white flowers. The seller had listed magical meanings for her perfume oil’s ingredients – tuberose for dangerous pleasure, honeysuckle for binding love, gardenia for secret passions, and moonflower for dreams of love – among other things. I had a slight mania for the scent of white blooms and liked the lore of the flowers. I was surprised he’d noticed, and told him so.
“It’s nice. It smells like something a real wom
an would wear.”
That threw me. I collected myself and spoke.
“Well, thank you. Um, I’m here because someone recommended your shop. You know Tom Wheeler? He said I should come in and ask for you. I need a new muffler and an oil change. Tom’s my dad, or stepdad anyway.” I smiled, adding, “He said you’d treat me good.”
Roger’s eyebrows raised a bit.
“I know Tom. He’s a good guy. Let’s take a look at your car.”
“Sure.” You can look wherever you want, I thought to myself. I stood and indicated where I had parked. He reached out to me, palm upward, signaling for my keys. I fished them out of my pocket and handed them to him, the feeling electric when my hand made contact with his.
A few minutes later his verdict was in. I was indeed in need of a new muffler. The estimate was better than I’d hoped. I made an appointment, and left, with a goofy smile playing on my lips.
“I think he likes you!”
I yelped in shock as I shot a quick glance to my right. There sat Ivy, smiling like a madwoman.
“You scared the hell out of me. Please, Ivy, don’t just appear in people’s cars unannounced while they’re driving.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just thrilled that Roger forgot about me! As soon as he walked through the door into the waiting area – poof! – he was distracted. I saw a world of possibility while he was talking to you.”
“And what about now? I’m gone.”
She concentrated for a second. “I think he’s thinking about you,” she mused, fidgeting with her ear. I felt the urge to parrot the action and told myself not to.
“I’m sure I’m not the only woman he’s ever … thought of, or whatever,” I murmured.
“He has liked other women before, yes. But you’re the first one I could ever talk to.”
“I guess.”
“You like him, too, don’t you?” she asked.
I shrugged, wanting to play it cool. I also felt this manic energy radiating off of her. It made me nervous. It was like I had drunk three espressos and blended them with several strong sugary drinks. I practically felt myself vibrating. That wasn’t like me at all, and it scared me.
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