I was trying hard not to think about why Mom decided to call. I doubted she had suddenly grown a human heart, which left me with alternatives that I could not, would not, let myself think about. Because every one of them destroyed this fragile new life Dad and I were building together.
I’d lost count of the number of times I’d retied my boots before Sean knelt next to me. “Jill, stop.” His hands covered mine.
There was no pretense of being casual when I jerked away from him that time. I stood up and pretended to check my bag for my wallet and keys while I got my emotions in check. “Hey, thanks for checking up on me. And for the muffins,” I added to Claire, who still looked rattled. “But I’ll be late if I don’t leave soon.”
“You need a ride?” Sean asked.
“I drove the flip car home last night, but thanks.” I was never so grateful for that wreck of a Mazda as I was right then. I didn’t think I could have shared such a small space with Sean that morning.
He nodded at me and then stopped to say something to Claire that I couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, she visibly softened enough to let him snag another muffin.
“You really have no idea what she wanted?” Claire asked.
My stomach roiled.
“Lay off, Claire.” Sean’s voice held a touch of warning.
I sat next to Claire on the bed. “The muffins aren’t bad. You should get your website up and post the recipe.”
Claire leaned forward and wrapped me in a hug that was a touch too tight.
I broke Claire’s hug, and we trailed outside to our respective vehicles. The last thing I heard before getting in my car was Sean’s voice, loud and clear.
“Don’t try to bail tomorrow unless you’ve got the trots from Claire’s muffins.”
CHAPTER 11
Work was work. I helped an Odyssey with daddy issues and prepped a Camry for open-heart surgery the next day. We had more than the usual amount of walk-ins too, so I didn’t get around to Daniel’s Jeep.
But that turned out to be fine, because he never showed up.
So, yeah.
I volunteered to close again for no reason other than I didn’t want to go home. I pushed it as far as I thought I could, staying away until just after ten.
Dad was snoring on the couch, the TV remote held loosely in his hand, when I walked in. I had to swallow the sharp pain that stabbed my heart when I looked at him. I hated that his life was falling asleep in front of the TV alone with takeout. I could slip into a twisting black ball of hate if I let my thoughts go where they so often did, where all the blame lay.
There was pizza on the counter. I nuked a couple of slices and grabbed a pop from the fridge. Slipping the remote from Dad’s hand, I surfed until I found an old movie I liked and sat next to him, my feet curled up under me.
I’d taken a couple bites when Dad dropped his arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “Everything go okay at the shop?” His voice was thick from sleep.
I told him about it while I ate. He was half-asleep again before I finished my second slice, so I made a show of yawning and told him I was heading to bed. I waited in my room until I heard the soft sound of his snoring before I climbed out my window onto the roof.
I took a deep breath once I was up there, for once not bothering to raise any mental disgust at how warm it was. Unlike my last stargazing attempt, the sky was pricked with countless stars. The moon was directly overhead, its soft light bathing me. Beautiful.
Despite the stars, I found my eyes drifting more and more often away from the sky and settling next door. It was possible Daniel had forgotten about his Jeep or had lost track of time unpacking or had been waiting around for a window repairman. I was working on more theories when a tall shadow detached itself from the side of Daniel’s house. I swear I levitated a good foot off the roof and only partially managed to swallow a shriek.
“How long have you been standing there?”
Daniel stepped closer until the moon lit his face. “A few minutes. So you do really watch the stars.”
I placed my hand flat on the roof and cocked my head, waiting to see if Dad had heard me. When the house beneath me remained quiet, my galloping heart began to slow in my chest.
Daniel was watching me, a slight frown on his face. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine. He didn’t hear.”
“Would you have gotten in trouble if he had heard?”
“Me? No. You? Yes.”
Daniel had both hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. The pose was casual, but he wasn’t. Every time a car drove past, he tensed as though he was preparing for it to hit him.
“You never showed today.”
“Something came up.”
It was hot and I was tired, so I let my irritation run my mouth. “Yeah, that happened to me once. Sucked.”
“I’m sorry, I should have called.”
I felt like a jerk, because his apology actually sounded sincere. Plus, I would have been the one apologizing if he had shown up. “It’s fine. I didn’t even get to your Jeep, but it’s first on my list tomorrow.”
Neither of us seemed big on small talk, so it was at least a full minute before he broke the silence. With a comment about the weather.
“I don’t know how you can stand it out here. It’s like an oven.”
I made a show of looking away and hanging my head back. “It’s better higher up. There’s a breeze.” Said breeze caught my ponytail and sent it dancing.
Another car drove past. Daniel took two quick strides, placed his hands on the cement block wall dividing our yards, and swung up. He followed it to where it bent and met my house and repeated the motion to pull himself onto the roof.
“Hey!” I said when he sat down next to me and rested his arms on his bent knees. “No joke, my dad will run you over if he hears you.”
“Then you shouldn’t have invited me.”
My eyebrows shot up. We had radically different opinions on what constituted an invitation.
Daniel sighed. “Look, I won’t stay long, all right?” He leaned back on his elbows and looked up at the stars.
Silence. I kept shooting glances at him from the corner of my eye, wondering if I was supposed to say something. It’d been easier in the shop. During the day. I wasn’t sure what to do with him on my roof. It was kind of a private place for me. And I barely knew him.
I was so focused on Daniel that I missed the car pulling up to his house. But Daniel didn’t. He went still as a statue, eyes locked on the sky above him. He didn’t even blink. It was the car door slamming shut that finally clued me in that his mom was home.
No wonder he preferred my roof.
When the night was silent again except for the distant hum of traffic from the 60, I decided I could do more than give him a place to hide. I could maybe help him forget what he was hiding from, at least temporarily.
I hugged my knees and nodded at the wall. “You made that look easy. You scale a lot of walls?”
He shrugged. “How’d you get up?”
I wasn’t about to describe the beached whale method I employed that involved a lot of squirming and flailing about. “Pretty much the same way.”
He half smiled. “Pretty much, huh? You’ll have to show me sometime.”
I laughed at the likelihood of that ever happening. And because Daniel no longer looked like he was going to leap off the roof. Also his half smile was kind of nice. Maybe.
A warm breeze swept over us and lifted the sweat-damp strands of dark hair on Daniel’s forehead. “Cooler, right?”
“I don’t think you can describe this as cooler, but it’s better.” Daniel tilted his head back. “So what exactly am I looking at?”
We weren’t sitting that close, but I was acutely aw
are of him stretched out next to me. It made me apprehensive somehow, like when Dad first taught me to drive stick and I was so worried about stalling that I ran a red light so I wouldn’t have to stop. “In Arizona, we call them stars.”
Another half smile tugged the corner of his mouth, but he kept his eyes on the sky. And away from his house. “I thought you might know a constellation or something.”
“Right there.” I pointed to a spot above his left shoulder. “Astronomers call that one the Big Dipper.”
He laughed, and I felt the sound tickle all the way down to my toes. I pointed higher. “Okay, that little cluster of stars...do you see it? I think that one’s called Centaurus.”
“What about that one?” Daniel shifted my still outstretched hand to another group of stars. It was the first time he’d touched me, and it sent a funny buzz up my arm.
“No idea. I don’t sit up here with a telescope or anything.” I’d remembered Centaurus only because it was named after the centaur Chiron. Sean used to be really into Greek mythology, and since I used to be really into Sean... Something much too close to guilt buzzed through me, and I pulled my hand from Daniel’s.
Daniel kept looking at the sky. There were tiny pricks of perspiration dotting his forehead and even from a couple feet away I could feel the heat his body was generating.
“I may have oversold the breeze.”
“Yeah, no kidding. I thought Philadelphia was hot in the summer, but holy hell. Does it get worse than this?”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed out loud. “You’ll get used to it. Plus the sunrises are really beautiful, so that helps.” Running with Claire and Sean so early had let me see quite a few.
“And you sit outside every night?”
“Not every night.” Though I couldn’t remember the last night I’d spent completely inside. Not since before my parents started competitive level fighting. Some things were more oppressive than heat. It didn’t take a wild guess to assume Daniel knew that too.
“What’s wrong with your house?” he asked in a quiet voice.
I felt Daniel’s eyes on me until I had to look at him. I glanced at his house, quiet just then, and I decided in that moment that he might understand.
The words were dragged up from somewhere deep inside me, like I was exhuming a grave.
“My parents fought like pros. My mom could have medaled in it. She knew how to build to a screaming crescendo that would render my dad silent. She knew how to raise her voice to a volume that I could practically feel shaking the roof beneath me. She knew how to stalk him when he tried to retreat in a way that I could map their route through the house. Even up on the roof, I could hear them—not the exact words most of the time, but the vehemence, the anger, the disdain.” There’d been nowhere I could go to get away from that. It had slithered up my body and held me prisoner. Night after night after night.
“And then she left.” My throat closed as I spoke. “She—did something. Something that you can’t fix. I woke up the next morning, and she was gone.” I bit down on my tongue. Hard. Savored the pain until I was sure I wouldn’t do something embarrassing. “I don’t want her to come back or anything. My parents were always fighting and nothing was ever good enough for her, but it’s too quiet inside now with just me and my dad.” I felt my eyes start to sting, and that black twisty hate flushed anew.
I looked down at a loose shingle I’d been slowly peeling up for months and tore it free. I twisted slightly away from Daniel, needing to reclaim at least the semblance of my solitary roof again.
“Why are you out here?” I cast a brief glance at him over my shoulder. “What’s wrong with your house?” It was kind of a low blow, I knew that, but I honestly didn’t expect him to answer. I figured he’d leave. I wanted him to leave. I hadn’t meant to say all that about my mom. I felt like I’d picked a scab open, and now that it was bleeding again, I wanted to be left alone to lick my wounds.
Daniel was smiling, but it wasn’t a nice smile. It was the kind I had to wear when a customer came into the shop screaming. “I brought my mom out here because we needed to get away from some things back home. She didn’t want to leave, but I didn’t give her a choice. She’s not real happy with me right now.” He laughed, and goose bumps broke out on my arms. “But you already knew that.”
Yeah, no joke. But I didn’t say anything. What was there to say? I could have asked him about the prison comment from his mom, but I didn’t want to invite further sharing if it meant I might have to reciprocate.
I had no idea how long we sat in silence after that. Long enough that I stopped regretting what I’d said, but not so long that I could find anything more to say. I didn’t try to stop him when he finally swung down—just as smoothly as he’d swung up. But I did return the small smile he gave me when he said he’d see me tomorrow at eleven o’clock to pick up his Jeep.
CHAPTER 12
I slip into a kind of tunnel vision when I start working on cars, so I was able to let everything fade away the next morning once I got Daniel’s Jeep lifted. The lug nuts proved to be a beast to get loose. I was still working on the last tire when Daniel showed up.
“Hey.” I wiped my hands on my coveralls and looked over my shoulder at the clock on the wall. It was 11:00 a.m. on the nose.
“Am I early?”
“No, I just grossly overestimated my ability to remove half-rusted lug nuts. Are you good for another twenty minutes or so? The waiting room has AC and nonstop Hall & Oates. Plus a few back issues of Field and Stream from 2008, I think.”
“I’m good.”
Normally, I really didn’t like people watching me work. Most people ask too many questions. Daniel didn’t, even though I could feel him watching me intently, or at least watching my hands.
After a few minutes, I was mentally cursing the last lug nut, which absolutely refused to budge, so when Daniel offered to help, I didn’t hesitate. I handed him the wrench and my pride was mollified by seeing the amount of effort he had to exert before the nut came off. When he moved aside so that I could loosen the caliper and remove the old pad, I saw the scabs. In the dark the night before, I hadn’t noticed.
“How’s the hand?”
Without having to be asked, Daniel backed up so as not to crowd me. “It’s fine.” He flexed his fingers in demonstration. I guess it was a good thing that old shed was rotted or he probably would have broken something.
Daniel’s gaze followed me when I replaced the metal shim and installed the new pad. The lug nuts went back on without any problems.
I tilted my head toward the slop sink, and together we washed our hands. There was a foot bar in front, so we didn’t have to touch the faucet to turn on the water. I stood next to him while I lathered up; when I shifted forward to rinse my hands, my shoulder brushed against his. I glanced up at him and caught his eye for just a second and couldn’t help smiling before stepping back to give him more room.
I’d been expecting to feel...awkward around Daniel after telling him about my mom, but I didn’t. Because I knew a little about him too. I didn’t have to keep my guard up as much, and that was...nice.
When I got his Jeep back on the ground, I turned the engine on and pumped the brakes to build up pressure in the braking system.
“I guess you’re all set.” I turned off the engine and hopped down from the driver’s seat. “Just be careful the first few times you drive it.” I handed over his keys. “And don’t worry if you see a little smoke initially.”
Daniel gave me a look that was part smile, part confusion. “What, seriously?”
“I never joke about cars.”
He eyed the Jeep, then me, and repeated the process. Each time his eyes fell on me they lingered a little longer.
“Sometimes there’s a little smoke from residual oil on the rotors. It’ll dissipate in a few miles
, if you see any at all.”
“Uh-huh.”
I laughed. “I promise you’re safe. I’m good with cars.”
I don’t know if it was my laughter or just the confidence in my voice, but he stopped eyeing the Jeep. He didn’t, however, stop eyeing me.
“In that case.” Daniel tossed the keys back. “Maybe you could test drive it with me until the smoke clears.”
I was used to being flirted with. Compared to Sean, this barely qualified, but with Sean, I always knew his flirting was building to a big, fat nothing. With Daniel, I didn’t know anything.
I could hear the sound of machinery running in the main garage. Dad definitely wouldn’t sign off on me taking a ride with a guy he didn’t know, and I definitely wouldn’t want to explain that I knew Daniel because we’d spent a couple nights talking on our roof.
Nope, nope, nope.
The question then was, could I go and be back before Dad noticed?
I was mentally weighing the odds when Daniel took my hesitancy for something else and his back stiffened.
“Look, about the other night, I don’t know how much you overheard, but I’m not a criminal and I don’t hurt people. Ever.”
My stomach flipped. I hadn’t even been thinking about that, though I should’ve been. I didn’t know Daniel. He could be exactly what his mother said. She’d know better than I would. Only, in the brief scene I’d witnessed, I was already more inclined to believe him over the person who’d been hurting him. All she’d done—my eyes went once again to the two scars I’d spotted before—and he hadn’t even lifted a hand to defend himself. I still had a lot of unanswered questions about Daniel, but whether or not I was afraid of him wasn’t one of them.
“There’s a Sonic a few miles up the road. If the Jeep is still smoking by then, I’ll buy.”
The smile he gave me seemed to sneak up on him.
* * *
Daniel’s Jeep didn’t have AC so we rolled the windows down. It helped as much as sitting in front of an oven with a fan.
If I Fix You Page 7