A commotion from the corner drew her gaze, and she cocked her head. Huh. Someone bought the service station. I guess it’s not surprising after old man Carney passed away a few months back. His kids are both teachers. They don’t need a run-down mechanic shop. She watched another moment, and saw a bright green tow truck back into a parking space. A number had been printed on its side in eye searing red. Then she turned to her sad, rusty Cavalier. The boxy boat seemed to taunt her with its decrepitude. Tugging her phone out of her purse, she snapped a photo of the tow truck. Better safe than sorry. Jumping into the driver’s seat, she inserted the key into the ignition and turned it. The motor revved, sputtered, choked, gagged and finally caught.
A movement in the vicinity of her front door drew Aubree’s attention to Michelle, who stood pouting as she wrestled with the key. Aubree rolled her eyes and took in the sagging headliner. This car is messed up. I should get rid of it. Get something less embarrassing to meet clients in. Her wheel fought her attempts to turn it, but eventually she managed to maneuver out of the strip mall’s parking lot and turn left onto Main Street, headed for the business district. I think I’ll take city streets rather than the highway. I’m in no rush to get back to Emma’s and my ‘birthday party’. Sighing, Aubree turned again, decisively delaying her celebration for as long as she could.
***
“Did anyone order me a margarita?” Aubree asked, breezing into Emma’s, a small café near her realty office.
“Of course not, Michelle snapped. “There are kids here.” She indicated her three small fry – a baby in a car seat and two toddlers struggling and snarling to attack each other over the intervening body of her burly, paunchy husband.
“Well, I would think that would make a drink an even better idea,” Aubree quipped. “You look like you could use one.”
“Aubree, don’t bait your sister,” Estelle urged in a quavering, longsuffering voice. Though barely sixty, Estelle always seemed fragile, more than ever after her husband’s passing the previous Christmas. I should take it easy on her. This is going to be a hard holiday season for her. The least I can do is not fight with Michelle. I can do that, right?
“Sorry,” Aubree said. “And I’m sorry I’m late too. Work, you know?”
“You work too hard, my darling,” Estelle complained. “You need to take time for yourself too. Keep your life in balance. If you weren’t at work every evening and weekend, maybe you could finally…”
“Don’t say it, Mom, please,” Aubree begged. “I’ve told you so many times that I’m happy as I am. I’m not rushing into a relationship because I’m not lonely. I’ll wait and see if anything comes to me.”
Estelle heaved a deep sigh and fell silent, giving Michelle a chance to take over. “But you’re almost out of time to start a family. You’re turning…” she paused, glancing over her shoulder as though admitting a dirty secret.
“Thirty-nine,” Aubree said in a loud, carrying voice. “I’m turning thirty-nine next week. I’m not ashamed, so why should you be? And I’m not too late to have a family. I already have one. I have a mom, a sister, a brother-in-law, a nephew and two nieces.”
“But what about children of your own?” Estelle demanded. “You’ll regret it someday. Who will take care of you when you’re old?”
Aubree blew out between her lips, making a sound like a horse. “A nursing home, of course. Having children means giving them a life of their own, not demanding they give me one. Listen, I don’t plan to have a baby, okay? If I decide I want to be a parent, I’ll adopt older kids. They need homes. Or I won’t, and I’ll volunteer or something. There are lots of ways to get a baby fix without filling my home with diapers.”
“That’s just selfish,” Michelle snarled. “Bella, stop it.” With one hand she pushed her three-year-old daughter, who was trying to climb over the table, back onto the cushioned bench. The baby began to wail. “Mom wants more grandkids, and I have enough.”
All four adults have our hands full with these three, Aubree thought unkindly, but rather than argue further, she attempted to change the subject. “So, Jay, how’s work?”
He shrugged. “We got called to that house on the north side. Bad tenants. Horrible cockroach infestation, and you wouldn’t believe the size of the spiders. But don’t worry. I’ll have them all cleared up for you in a week. You’ll be ready to send in your cleaning crew and list it before you know it.”
A shudder radiated out from Aubree’s spine. Ugh. Cockroaches. I don’t mind the spiders, but roaches are nasty. “Thanks for working on that, Jay. You know how I hate bugs.”
“That’s why you need a man,” Michelle said, pushing her luck. “Then you’d have someone to kill them for you.”
Aubree rolled her eyes. “Please, stop it, Michelle. I don’t want to have this conversation. Can’t we enjoy this time together without you picking at me?”
Michelle lowered her blue-painted eyelids halfway over her big blue eyes. “Sorry. It’s just… I want so badly for you to be happy, Bree. I don’t want you to be alone.”
Aubree smiled. “I am happy,” she reminded her sister. And you don’t look that happy, honestly. You look stressed and worn out. I think I’ll keep my own council about what I need. “I’m happy with my job, my home, my friends and my family. I’m not opposed to falling madly in love, should Mr. Right present himself, but I’m not suffering in the meanwhile and I’m not desperate. Desperation might make me settle for someone who’s wrong for me. I don’t want that, for sure.”
“It’s just that, with your age, Aubree, you’re running out of time,” her mother pointed out.
Aubree gritted her teeth. Then she forced herself to relax. “Forty is not an expiration date, Mom. Did you know there’s a dating web site for people over fifty, even? I’m saying this for the last time. If I end up remaining single for the rest of my life, I won’t mind a bit. At the end of a long day, I enjoy a silent house. My life doesn’t feel like it’s lacking anything at this time. Since it’s my life – and believe me, I appreciate that you all mean well – back off and let me live it my way.”
Michelle and Estelle both gawked at Aubree, their mouths dropping open in tandem to deliver another round of who knew what kind of advice, when the approach of Brandy, their waitress, with a pad of paper in her hand and a pencil stuck through her bouncy ponytail, cut off their tirades.
“Did you guys want the check now?” she asked, waving a slip in their general vicinity.
Oh, good. They did eat without me.
“Yes, sure,” Michelle said, leaning forward and grabbing the sheet out of the woman’s hand.
“And…” she turned to Aubree in confusion. “Um, can I get you anything?”
Having seen the special of the day on the board at the entrance, she replied easily, “Sure. Can you get me a cup of broccoli soup and a fish sandwich to go, please? Separate check.” There. That should be quick. After dealing with this rowdy crew, she might appreciate a simple order.
“One special with a soup coming right up.” The girl grinned, thankful for the reprieve, and scuttled off toward the kitchen.
“Looks like Miss Emma has her granddaughters waiting tables these days,” Aubree commented, grinning at her mundane observation.
“And why not? Brandy has been studying hospitality at the community college for over a year. This is good practice,” Michelle snapped.
Aubree sighed. I know that as well as she does. Wow. As much as my sister flouts family life as the only way to go, she sure doesn’t make it look appealing. I’ve never known her to be this crabby.
The baby began to wail again. “We need to go,” Michelle said decisively, rising and scooping up the carrier. The weight dragged her into an awkward stoop, but she hung a bulging diaper bag on her other arm anyway.
“Just a minute.” Jay dug in his pocket and pulled out a couple of twenties to cover their meal. “Hope she doesn’t mind the small tip.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Aubree said, tryi
ng to encourage her brother-in-law. The combined assets of an exterminator and a realtor don’t stretch far when there are three small children, but this is a small town, and everyone understands.
“Are you coming, Mom?” Michelle asked.
Estelle eyed the noisy mob. “I’ll stay,” she decided. “Aubree can drive me back to my apartment later.”
Michelle dipped her chin in a curt nod and headed to the door, her bewildered husband leading their tiny tots in her wake.
Wow. Never in a million years, Aubree vowed.
“So, honey,” Estelle said in a sly, coy tone, “I wanted to talk to you without all the commotion. I love my grandchildren dearly, but they are a handful, aren’t they?”
Aubree nodded, preparing a cautious answer, but her mother continued.
“There’s a new man in town, just arrived. He turned up at the Veteran’s Center for the fish fry last night. I’d love to introduce you.”
Aubree took a deep breath and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. Here we go again.
***
Nearly two hours later, Aubree unlocked the door to her townhouse, stepped inside, and dropped her now-cold soup and sandwich on the entry table. The sight of the tastefully appointed two-story living room did much to restore her equanimity. Everything in its place. This is what I have to look forward to every day. My own home. My own things. No one making a mess. No one touching anything. Heaven. Michelle and Jay’s place looks like a tornado went through it all the time now. I would hate that. I wish they could understand that I’m not hungry for a man and kids don’t interest me at all. Why does everyone think that’s so wrong? I wish I could think of something to say that would get everyone off my back. She kicked off her shoes and tucked them onto the shoe rack, and then made her way across the polished wood floor and up the stairs, admiring the classy pairing of dark wood treads with white risers. At the top, a carpeted hallway led to two bedrooms. Comfortable carpet squished under her feet, massaging the aching soles.
The first door on the left sat ajar, revealing an unused guest room, made up as a home office and reading room. The second, her sanctuary, awaited her with its soothing, neutral colors. Skirting the bed, she opened the closet and hung up her sweater and slacks. The evening had grown cold, but the well-constructed building sufficed, so far at least, to block the chill. She unhooked her bra, letting her plump breasts sink to their natural place, a bit south of perky, and tugged on a sweatshirt and matching pants. She stepped into fuzzy slippers that had been shaped into alligators, and then threw herself down on the bed, face up, staring at the ceiling.
“If I never marry,” she said aloud to herself – the only person willing to listen – that will be just fine. I don’t feel unfulfilled. I don’t feel lonely. This life is perfectly okay. Maybe when I turn forty they’ll accept that I’m an old maid and stop picking at me about it.”
The thought cheered her, and she rose to her feet. “Microwaved breaded fish. Ugh. I guess it’s better than no supper at all.” Frowning at the thought of her ruined dinner, she padded back down the hall toward the stairs. “I hope they don’t plan anything when it’s my actual birthday. This was ‘party’ enough.”
Chapter 2
“Damn it!” Aubree snarled, kicking the tire of her Cavalier. A breeze that felt more like winter than fall whipped through the brilliant vermillion leaves of a stunted maple and straight down the collar of her jacket, biting her shoulders. She ducked inside the car and tried again to start the stalled engine. It spluttered, coughed, and then settled into a series of disheartening clicks. “Please, baby, don’t die on me now. I have to be at the office to meet with a client in twenty minutes,” she begged. She revved the engine one more time, but the click did not offer the promise of motion. “Damn, damn, damn.”
She sagged in the seat as the wind hummed and whistled around the car. Thick, dark clouds rolled over the horizon. Whipping out her cell phone, Aubree clicked on her weather app and scowled. “Forty-nine for a high today? Wow, that’s a cold snap for sure. It must have been nearly sixty yesterday. At least no snow is predicted.” She scrolled through her late November forecast for the next week. “Cold, cold, cold, and me with a messed up car.” Aubree could feel her lip quivering. “Wait, that’s a bit over the top, lady. Pull it together.”
Wondering what to do, her fingers slipped across the screen and accidentally opened the gallery to the last picture she had taken. The tow truck with the phone number on its side. “Bingo. If he can haul this wreck to his mechanic shop, I’ll be able to get to work quickly, since it’s right down the street.”
She memorized the number and dialed it quickly. “Rick’s towing and mechanics,” a young woman spoke cheerfully on the other end. “This is Liz.”
“Hi, um, I need help,” Aubree said. “My car broke down…”
“Of course,” the girl replied. “Are you one of dad’s regulars?”
Uh oh. Hope he’s not working only with a select group… but if he were, would he have his number emblazoned on his truck? “Not yet,” Aubree said, “but maybe I will be. Is that a problem?”
“Of course not,” Liz assured her. Aubree could hear the smile in her voice. “It’s just that some people don’t realize they have Triple A, or that their insurance has connections with someone.”
“My triple A expired over a year ago,” Aubree explained, “and the last time my car broke down, my insurance agent told me, and I quote, ‘call a tow truck and forward us the receipt.’”
“Last time?” the girl asked. “Well, so do you want Dad to fix your car?”
“Yes, please,” Aubree begged. “I work like a block away, so if he could bring me back to his shop, it would be perfect… that is if he’s not too busy. I’m in a bit of a hurry, so if he’s on another job, I’d prefer a recommendation.”
“He’s here beside me, finishing up his coffee and emails,” Liz said cheerfully. “Where are you at?”
“The corner of Fulton and Lover’s Lane streets, in the parking lot of that cruddy used car dealership,” Aubree said.
The girl laughed. “Not far at all. Dad, there’s a lady broken down on the corner of Fulton and Lover’s Lane in the parking lot of…. Yes, that’s right, how did you know?” Aubree could hear a muffled conversation and some laughter in the background, and then Liz returned. “Okay, Dad says he’ll be there in five. Try to stay warm.”
“Okay,” Aubree agreed.
“Can I tell him what you or your car look like?” Liz asked, the hint of a giggle lingering in her voice.
“Oh, right,” Aubree sighed. “My name is Aubree Melville. I drive a nasty, POS Chevy Cavalier. I’ll wave when I see him coming.”
“Sounds good, Aubree. Guess I’ll be seeing you in a few minutes. Hang tight. Dad just left the building.”
“Thanks, Liz,” Aubree said, and disconnected the call. She sent a quick text to her sister asking her to express her regrets to her appointment and asking them to wait a few minutes for her to arrive. Then she fished her gloves out of the pockets of her coat and hunkered down, shivering. The car blocked the wind somewhat, but the cold seeped in around all the doors and windows to nip at her skin. This winter is going to be a beast, I think. She turned up her collar. Wish I could at least get the heater turned on. She cranked the key again, but not even a click responded to her prompting. I wonder if it’s dead dead or if Rick can fix it. The repair bills are getting out of hand, way more than this junker is worth, she admitted to herself, but even as the thought crossed her mind, her eyes burned with more than cold. This was Dad’s car, and I don’t want to give up on it. Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Aubree reminded herself, I guess I could keep it for posterity and have a proper car to drive. Cheered by the idea, Aubree settled in to wait. The seven minutes it took for the brightly-painted pickup to swing into the parking lot could have been seven years. Aubree had begun to shake with cold, her muscles aching as she clenched and unclenched them. She exhaled a puff of visible air and fumbled her
way out of the car to wave down the tow truck. He executed the tight turn with ease and drove past her, backing up so the business end of his vehicle aligned with hers.
“Miss Melville?” he asked, looking her over.
Aubree pulled her knitted cap lower over her ears and nodded, sure her chattering teeth would not allow a sound to emerge.
“Rick Lawrence. Nice to meet you. Why don’t you hop into the cab and warm up while I get this mess connected?”
Aubree nodded again, studying her rescuer. Rick’s craggy face crinkled around the eyes and mouth. Silver streaked the long, blond hair hanging from beneath a green toque. A long blond beard curled and waved, halfway to his chest. She could see a strokes of black inked onto each finger of his ungloved hands. So he’s that kind. Ah, well. As long as the cab is warm and the work is well done, it doesn’t much matter. With a tight, chilly smile, she opened the passenger door of the cab and scrambled into the seat. Inside, she found the truck clean and smelling faintly of coconut from a brightly colored air freshener hanging from the mirror. The black vinyl seats shone, free of rips and recently cleaned. The floor mats showed no dirt or stains. Not bad. He runs a tight ship, I think.
Mysterious whirring and cranking noises emerged from the rear of the vehicle, but Aubree felt no compulsion to look. Instead she held her hands in front of the whooshing heating vent, trying to thaw them. Her face tingled as the cold burned away. A short time later, Rick vaulted into the driver’s seat, accompanied by an icy blast, and slammed the door.
“Liz said to take you back to the garage?” he more asked than stated.
“Yes, please,” Aubree agreed. “My own place of business is just down the street from there.”
“Cool.” He shifted the truck into gear and pulled out of the parking lot, turning north on Campus Drive. “Do you want me to take a stab at fixing it today, or should I plan to take it elsewhere?”
“Go for it,” Aubree urged. “This POS has been giving me trouble for ages, but I’m reluctant to invest in a new car when I’ve just opened a business, you know what I mean?”
Flawed Perfection: A Collection of Winter Wishes Page 10