Begin to Begin

by Brown,A. S.

  He looks at me with that deer in the headlights look that so many get when they have no idea what you are talking about. "I really have no idea. I fix cars; that's all I know. Once I get everything up and running more and get the business back on a good track then maybe I can hire someone to do all the office work. I don't really know what to do."

  We walk together toward the two comfy chairs in the front of the store. I have them situated kind of as a centerpiece in the lobby. They are a dark, charcoal-grey with lime green swirls on them. A black, round coffee table sits between them. "Do you want anything to drink? I made a fresh pot of a coffee not too long ago, and I have some bottled water and Diet Coke in the back."

  "Um, yeah, coffee. Black. Thanks."

  "Go ahead and have a seat, and I'll grab it for you." I need to get some space from him even for a minute. He has such an overwhelming aura about him it's taking my breath away. I pour his coffee into a solid black mug and grab a water for myself. No coffee for me this time of day or I won’t get any sleep—I have a hard enough time sleeping to begin with.

  After I have our drinks in hand, I walk back over and place his coffee in front of him on the table and sit in the chair across from him with my water in hand.

  "Wow, real mugs. That's fancy," he says with a lift of his eyebrow.

  "I hate paper cups. We have a dishwasher in the back that we run a few times a day. People love having the coffee available, and, honestly, I think that is the only reason some of our regulars come in so often. So, it makes me happy to be able to make them happy.”

  He leans forward a bit and grabs his coffee. But he looks at me sincerely. "How are you, Marin? Since … well, you know.” He pauses to take a sip of his coffee, steam still billowing from the mug. “I have thought about you and worried that I should have called someone for help instead of bringing you back here."

  "I'm fine, really. This crazy cut is healing fine and I'm not feeling as sore as I was. We called the police and filed a report." He startles a bit at the word police which confuses me. "Don't worry, though, I didn't say anything about you. We just said a passerby scared the guy off."

  "Well, if you need me to talk to the police I can. Actually, I would like to do whatever I can to help out." He runs his hand through his dark hair, and I notice the edge of a dark tattoo peeking out from underneath his jacket.

  "Thank you. I will give you the detectives information and you can contact him when you have a chance."

  We sit in silence, sipping our drinks like two people on a blind date.

  It’s awkward.

  It seems like hours pass before I decide to speak, but in all reality it has only been seconds.

  "So, Dalton, tell me a little more about your garage. I guess that will give me the best idea on what I can pull for you and help you with." I smile awkwardly at him and tuck my legs up underneath me, thankful that I wore jeans today and not a skirt.

  He shifts around uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, I guess I sort of inherited the garage from my uncle who isn't in the greatest health anymore. He thought it would be a good way to focus my energy on something useful. I was a bit of a troublemaker when I was younger, and he wanted me to get away from that life."

  "He sounds like a smart man," I comment before taking another sip of my water.

  "Yeah, I guess he is. I was hanging around some people I should have stayed away from. I'm way too old now to be doing the kinds of things I did when I was a teenager. You gotta grow up sometime. Right?"

  "Hey, everyone has a little rebellious streak in them, and most people grow out of it, so I'm sure you are fine. It's nice that you are doing this for your uncle.”

  “Do you have a rebellious streak, Marin?” he asks in a low voice. It almost seems as if he didn’t mean to ask that question and the words came tumbling out of his mouth on their own accord.

  I clear my throat and change the subject. “Let's go see what we can find that can help the business side of everything."

  As he follows me to the back of the store where I keep the reference books and the few textbooks that come in handy in everyday life, I can feel his eyes burning holes through my back. He's silent but I feel the heat radiating off him and know he is only a step behind me. I take a deep but discreet breath because he smells incredible and I want to remember it when he’s gone.

  Squatting down when I reach the shelf I was looking for I pull off the book I had in mind. "Ah, this is the one I was looking for. I read this when I started the bookstore, and it really came in handy." I stand back up and hand him the book.

  "Small Businesses for Dummies," he reads. Looking up at me, he smirks that devilish smirk. "So I'm a dummy, huh?"

  A laugh bubbles up from me. A real laugh. I haven't had one of those in a while. "Well, if you are, I'm calling myself one as well." I grab it back from him. "There are a few chapters in here I want to mark for you, though. Do you have a computer?"

  "Yeah, there is one in the little office off of the garage. It's an old one, but I think it works OK."

  An idea pops into my head. Probably not the best idea I have ever had considering that I just met this guy, but hey, you only live once, and I did promise myself that I was going to start living for me again—do things differently and focus on things that don't focus on Benji's death.

  "How about you give me directions to the garage and I stop out this weekend and take a look? I can give you a mini crash course on anything you need to know to start out." By the way his eyes squint a little and the slight frown he now has on his face, I'm sure he's going to say no.

  "Um, yeah. OK," he says after a second.

  "Great! Let me get your number, and I will call or message you on Saturday morning to let you know when I will be on my way. You can text me the address, and I will pop it into my GPS."

  He walks back to the front without saying a word, and I wonder if he's changed his mind. I follow behind him until we are at the front desk and realize he is looking for a pen. He scribbles his number on an old receipt that a customer must have left sitting on the counter. "Here's my number," he says and hands me the slip of paper.

  "Thanks." I look back up into his eyes. He's not smiling anymore, and I wonder if I made a mistake by offering to help him. "I'll bring the book with me Saturday, if that's OK?"

  "OK," he says, still staring.

  "OK," I whisper back.

  "I guess I'll be going so you can close up and head home."

  "OK."

  "Are you parked close? Will you be alright if I go?"

  "OK." He smiles at me, and I realize I totally answered that question the wrong way. "I mean, yeah. Amelia is going to stop here in a few minutes. You better get going. She's an attorney so she will drill you with questions."

  "OK," he says and walks toward the door. "Marin?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Thanks for your help." And he smiles. And I stop breathing. Then he walks out the door and swiftly down the sidewalk.

  ******

  I'm counting the register for the third time, to make sure I'm accurate, when a knock on the front door startles me. Looking up, I see Amelia standing there mouthing, "Let me in, dammit!"

  I lay the money down and head around the counter to the door. When I unlock it, she barrels through like a bull that was just let out of his stall.

  "Jesus, Amelia. What the heck is your hurry?" I go back to organizing the money for the deposit.

  "Well, how was it? Is he as hot as I remember?" She waggles her eyebrows like the perv she is sometimes. She flops down on the chair he was sitting on not too long ago.

  “It was incredible. He screwed my brains out right there on that chair your ass is taking up space on.”

  Her eyeballs about bug out of her head, and I don’t think I have ever seen her more shocked.

  “Jesus, Amelia, everything was fine," I answer with a roll of my eyes.

  “Wait. So you didn’t fuck him?”

  “God no. I don’t even know the guy yet. Besides, I’m n
ot interested in a relationship like that. You know that.”

  "So it was just fine."

  "Yes, Amelia, it was fine." Trying to ignore her, I straighten out the desk a little more.

  "Why are you acting weird?"

  "I'm not acting weird. You’re being nosey."

  "Well, do I have a reason to be nosey? Did something happen? Oh, my god! Something happened."

  "What? No. I told you, nothing happened. Now you’re being crazy." She walks around the counter and grabs me by my arm, pulling me back to the chairs that Dalton and I occupied not so long ago.

  "Now, talk to me. Be honest."

  "I am being honest. It was fine. We chatted, I got him a book, made plans to meet up with him Saturday, and he left." I know she's going to freak so I jump out of my seat to try and get away.

  "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back. Up. What do you mean, made plans? Like a date?"

  "God, Amelia, don't be ridiculous. No not a date. I'm not ready for that." I shake my head "I'll never be ready for that."

  "Oh, sweetie, don't say that. Benji wouldn't want you to be alone."

  "Well, it doesn't really matter what Benji would want, does it? He's not here," I shout with venom in my voice.

  Unable to handle her for a second longer, I walk back to the office and grab my coat. When I come back out, she has the money bag in her hand and a sad look on her face. Since she lives close to the bank, it's easier for her to drop it off for me.

  "Please don't, Amelia. I can't talk about this anymore. I am going to try to move on. To be somewhat happy. But I don't know when or if I will ever be ready to care about another man like that." I flick out all the lights and walk with her to the door. "Dalton is a nice guy. That’s it. If nothing else, maybe I make a new friend. I'm meeting him at this garage on Saturday to help him set up his office computer with what he needs. Just the basics."

  We walk out and lock up and head across the street where we are both parked. "Do you want me to come with you? Are you comfortable going there alone?"

  Pausing at my car door I think about that for a second. After everything, am I?

  "Yeah, I think I am," I tell her.

  "OK, chica. Just keep me on speed dial. Call me when you get there and call me when you leave."

  "Yes, Mom." She smiles that big, beautiful, Amelia smile.

  "Get over here and give me a hug so I can get going. Joey's waiting for me at the apartment."

  "Oh?" I grin.

  "Zip it."

  We laugh, hug, and say our goodbyes. On my way home I think about the crazy day this turned out to be. I couldn't tell Amelia that I did feel something in Dalton's presence. I'm not sure what it was—it wasn't anything I ever felt before. When I was with Benji, I was always warm. He made everyone feel that way, though. I was happy, always in a good mood. Anytime I did feel down in the dumps, he would come close and it made everything better. He was my sunshine. But Dalton … I barely know him but when I look in his eyes, I know he is nothing like Benji ever was.

  Once I'm home and make myself a sandwich, I settle in on the couch for a few minutes to eat. I hate getting home and going straight to be so I turn on the news and vaguely listen as I eat and look through today's mail. My head jerks up when I hear them talking about an attempted assault that recently happened.

  "The assault took place on Fifteenth Avenue Friday night. If anyone has any information, please contact the police at 555-1212.

  “Once again, the witness said the man had a small tattoo of a gun on his left hand. He was approximately five foot eleven and weighed 180 pounds."

  I stop listening. This can't be a coincidence. This is the night I was assaulted in the same area. There were no witnesses. Except Dalton.

  Chapter Seven

  Marin

  I would be lying if I didn't say I was nervous about meeting Dalton today at his garage.

  I'm beyond nervous for some reason.

  Butterflies flutter around not only in my stomach, but also my chest. I've not interacted with any men like this since Benji’s death other than Joey, Cole, and customers. This feels different, and I'm not sure if I like it. But, there's no reason to think of it as more than it is. Just me, helping out someone that helped me out. I'm interested to find out as well whether he went to the police. Other than me, there were no other witnesses besides him.

  After showering, I choose some dark jeans with a tank top and a thin green sweater thrown over it to wear. It's comfy and simple. I finish up eating some oatmeal and having my coffee when I glance at the clock. Ten o'clock shouldn't be too early to go to the garage. Or, at least, I hope not. I pick up my phone and shoot a text off to Dalton.

  Marin: Good morning Dalton. Would it be too early to head out to the garage now?

  Busying myself however I can, I rinse my dishes and throw a load of clothes in the washer while I wait for his reply. When I'm finished with my few household chores, I notice he has already texted me back.

  Dalton: Not at all. I will be here all day.

  I message him back and he sends me directions. It's not too far out of town, so it shouldn't take longer than twenty minutes to get there and the farmer's market is on the way. I haven't been there in such a long time and would love to start going again.

  Just as I'm getting into my car, my phone rings. I look over at it and see that it's Amelia.

  "Hey, chica," I answer.

  "Hey. Don't leave yet. I'm coming with you."

  I roll my eyes because I know she's being overprotective and maybe a tad bit nosey.

  "No, you're not—"

  "Marin. This guy could be a bad guy. You have no idea." I sigh into the phone.

  “Last night you were ready for me to give you the dirty details of our passionate love making that never happened, and now you’re concerned that he’s a crazed lunatic?” She only sighs in response.

  “I—”

  "Please, Amelia. Let me do this. Let me learn how to be me again. The me without Benji." I will never move on if they don't let me. All I hear is how it's OK to move on but then everyone coddles me like I'm a small child.

  She doesn't say anything so I continue on. "I'll be fine. I promise. I will text you when I get there and as soon as I get into my car to leave."

  "Ugh. Fine. You're a big girl, I get it." Smiling, I know I've won this battle. It's a small one but one step forward. "Just … I love you, OK?"

  "I love you too, Am. I will text you in a bit."

  We say our goodbyes, and I punch in Dalton's address in my GPS. OK, Marin, big girl panties. Time to put them on.

  ******

  I ease my car down the pothole-ridden, dirt driveway and see the garage up ahead. It is definitely a mechanics’ garage. Nothing fancy. There is another short driveway to the left, and I notice a small yellow double wide home sitting at the end that has the appearance of being cute and homey. It seems to be well taken care of, and I wonder for a fleeting moment if that is where Dalton calls home.

  The garage itself is much bigger than I expected. It reminds me more of a small warehouse with three large garage doors and an entrance door all on the front. In an effort not to be in the way if anyone shows up, I pull my car closer to the entrance door than the actual garage doors.

  After I get out, I take a second to look around and get a better look at the area. It's a wonder anyone even knows this place exists. But places like this rely solely on their established customer base and word of mouth. The sign at the end of the road is pretty small, so I'm sure that doesn't help drum up anything new. Maybe I can show Dalton how to create a website.

  I was nervous when I first left the house this morning, but now I'm getting excited and think this might actually be fun. It feels good to step outside my little bubble every now and then.

  Not sure whether I should knock or just walk in, I don't get a chance to make the decision. A man inside, who is not Dalton, I might add, spots me and slowly walks to the door.

  "Well, hello there, pretty lady." He greets m
e with a smile. I grin at the streak of grease smeared across his face. He must be one of Dalton's employee's. He’s a very good looking guy, and he definitely knows it. I can see how his confidence would be a turn on to some women, but that’s not something that’s ever been attractive to me.

  "Hi. I'm here to see Dalton. He's expecting me." His smile grows.

  "Yo! D-Man! Your lady friend is here!" he yells behind him then turns back to me. "He's in the office cleaning up."

  "Thank you," I answer as Dalton appears from a door in the back of the garage. Goodness, he looks good. He has on an old pair of jeans that hang low on his hips and a tight … very tight black t-shirt.

  "Marin. Come on back here and see if you can breathe some life into this old dinosaur." I'm guessing he's talking about the computer. I turn to the man that greeted me at the door.

  "It was nice meeting you …" I trail off waiting for his name.

  "Liam. Besides Dalton, I'm the other mechanic here. You could say I’m the better mechanic, too.”

  “Shut it, Liam!” Dalton calls from the office.

  Liam laughs and turns back to me. “If you guys need my assistance, let me know." I nod and make my way back to the office where Dalton is waiting.

  "Well, this is it. Nothing fancy. Actually, the office is still pretty gross and dirty even though I tried to clean up some." He looks down rubs the back of his neck, obviously embarrassed.

  "It's a garage, Dalton. I don't expect a fancy office like you would find in the city. But …" I can't help the laughter that escapes me. "Please tell me this dinosaur isn't the computer you were talking about?" It's probably the oldest computer I have ever seen—an IBM in that dirty, white-beige color all old computers sported. Does IBM still actually make computers?

  "Yep, that it is! I told you it was old." He walks over to it and turns it on and it makes a pitiful noise. I laugh again because there is no way he can accomplish what he needs to using this computer.