Every Yesterday (Boot Creek)

by Nancy Naigle

  She smiled, an image of her father laughing in her mind. Daddy had always had a way of filling a room. She loved that about him. This car kind of did the same thing. It made a lasting impression.

  It was only right that Daddy would have wanted Angie and Jackson to start their new life together driving off in this car.

  Jackson was everything she could’ve wished for her best friend in this world. I’m almost a little envious. What would it feel like to be loved like that? To have someone there to spot me through every good and bad day?

  I’m stalling.

  But what was the harm? She’d given herself plenty of time that morning. And that had been easy, since she hadn’t been able to sleep a wink last night.

  Walking around the car, she allowed her hand to glide across the smooth finish. As shiny as if it had just come off the showroom floor, her hand smoothly swept around each curve of the car. Tracing its contour. Remembering the Saturday mornings she and her dad had spent hand washing it and using the special chamois he only used on this car. It was an all-day affair. Not that it ever looked dirty to her.

  That painting Noah had fallen in love with was still on the toolbox where he’d left it. Flaw and all. Her little secret. But she’d shared it with him. Her secret spot too. Easy to share secrets with someone who will be over twenty-five hundred miles away in a few days. Someone she’d never see again.

  Why do things have to be so complicated?

  She studied the painting. It had been done a long time ago. Another lifetime. Like someone else’s lifetime ago.

  Get a move on, girl.

  Carla had taken all of the bridal party dresses over to the church, so all Megan had to take was her makeup and shoes. An easy morning with the girls, playing dress up and supporting Angie on her big day.

  What kind of maid of honor am I, having doubts about the car now? She felt selfish and silly.

  She straightened and marched over to the driver’s side of the car and picked up her tote bag. She shifted it up on her shoulder and then wrapped her fingers around the door handle. Just standing there. The thrum of her heartbeat echoed in her ears. She’d never opened this door before. Not even when they’d delivered the car.

  Tears filled her eyes.

  She looked toward the ceiling. Wishing Dad was there or would somehow give her a comforting sign. She’d only ever sat in the passenger’s seat. She’d liked it that way. She’d never even asked to drive it—perfectly happy with him being at the wheel.

  She could picture Dad sitting there with his arm out the window, smiling in her direction. Them laughing. The wind pushing against her hand as she chased the air with her open palm.

  Pulling the door handle with one quick thrust, she opened the door and tossed her handbag into the passenger’s seat. She closed her eyes, dropped behind the steering wheel, and let out a breath.

  “It’s fine. I can do this.” Maybe saying it aloud would make it so.

  Every yesterday in this car had been a special one.

  Stretching her legs out, her feet didn’t reach the pedals. Her heart hiccuped at the thought of moving it from where her dad had set it. One more thing to leave behind.

  Jackson had offered to pick it up, but she’d insisted on doing it herself. She regretted that now. If she’d let Jackson pick up the car, he could have left the seat right where it was. He and Daddy were about the same height.

  She grappled around under the seat for a lever or a button. She wasn’t even sure how to move it.

  The steering wheel felt wide and skinny compared to her little car.

  “I miss you, Daddy. Why is it so hard to let go of yesterdays?”

  “Maybe because they were that special.”

  She spun around, sucking a breath so quickly that she choked. The unexpected answer scared the bejesus out of her. She placed her hand against her chest. “Noah? What are you doing here?”

  He stood next to the car. His hands on his knees, peering in from the blind spot just over her left shoulder.

  His brown eyes locked with her own. “Maybe we don’t have to forget yesterdays, just be able to live with them. I know it sounds simple, but damn it’s taken me a long time to figure it out. I’m kind of hoping you’re coming to the same realization.”

  “Easier said than done,” she muttered, turning away from him. “How’d you get in?”

  “Door was open. We don’t have to be over at the church until later. I was jogging.”

  She glanced back again. “Yeah, I see now; you are a sweaty mess. It’s a good morning for a jog. Why are you here?”

  “Thought I’d stop by. I knocked on the front door. You didn’t answer, but as I was leaving I noticed the garage-bay door open. You okay?”

  “You been standing there long?”

  “A little while,” he admitted.

  Then he knew she wasn’t okay.

  “Hey, tomorrow will be better. Every day will be a little better.”

  “That’s just it, Noah. I don’t want to leave my yesterdays behind.” Maybe some of them, but not these. Not the ones with Daddy.

  “You can’t enjoy what’s ahead of you if you’re focused on what’s in your rearview mirror.”

  What? Was he some kind of philosopher all of a sudden? This wasn’t helpful right now. Don’t cry. Do not cry in front of him. She resisted the urge to dab the dampness from under her eyes, tilting her head down, hoping to hide any tears that resisted her constraint.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Contemplating.”

  “Contemplating what?”

  “Why I’ve been sitting here for ten minutes, and can’t bring myself to turn the key in the ignition.”

  Noah pulled the door open and crouched down next to the driver’s-side door.

  “I’ve never driven it before. Daddy was always the one in this seat.”

  “You know how to drive a car. I’ve seen you.”

  “This is different.”

  “It’s your car now. He wouldn’t have left it to you had he not trusted you with it. That I know for a fact.”

  “I know.” She barely heard the words they’d come out so quietly.

  He tapped his hand along the window track, then loosened her hand from the death grip she had on the steering wheel. “What can I do to help you, Megan?”

  She looked into his eyes as he squatted there beside the car. She felt at ease in his presence. She barely knew him. But just like the other day, she felt at ease when she’d shown him her paintings—the little peek into her past, and her secret rooftop escape.

  “Get in and drive.”

  Did she say what I think she just said? “Drive?”

  “Yes.” She let out a breath. “Drive. I need to take the car to the church. I can’t reach the pedals. I can’t do this. Just drive. Okay?”

  “Here, I can help you adjust the seat.” He reached in to help her.

  She slapped at his hand. “No. It’s right where Daddy left it last.”

  He froze, raising his hands like a criminal under arrest. “Okay.”

  “I don’t want to move the seat. I know it sounds dumb. You’re the right height. Humor me. Okay?”

  “Absolutely,” he said.

  She scooted over to the passenger seat. Nothing ladylike about the way she was crabbing over across to the other side; in fact, it was a bit comical. Good thing she wasn’t in her bridesmaid dress.

  He slid into the driver’s seat. The smell of her perfume and shampoo lingered, teasing his senses.

  This car. This girl. Almost too much.

  He turned and smiled at her. She looked like a teenager sitting there. Young, vulnerable, even though he knew better. “Tell me about the last time you were in this car.”

  “I always rode shotgun. This is my spot.” She patted the leather seat. “Daddy drove. Top down. No matter what the weather, hot or cold.”

  “Your hair blowing in the wind?” He could picture her soft beach waves blowing carefree in the breeze, w
hipping and lifting. It made him want to run his fingers through her hair. He resisted though, grasping his hand against his own forearm instead.

  “No.” She leaned over and dropped the glove compartment open. A cute laugh escaped her. “It’s still here.” She reached in and pulled out a hot-pink bandana. “I always tie my hair up in this.”

  She stared at the rolled fabric, stroking it softly with her fingers. A sweet smile played on her lips.

  “Do it,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Let me see.” He looked into her eyes. “Your hair pulled up.”

  She lifted the bandana and spun it behind her neck, pulling the waves of her brown hair into a cute pinup girl look.

  “Beautiful.” More beautiful than he could’ve imagined. It sure wasn’t hard to spend time with this girl.

  A tinge of pink chased from her cheeks to her chest. She pulled her feet up into the seat and wrapped her arms around her knees. The behemoth of a car was wider than she was tall.

  “You look tiny in this car,” he remarked.

  “I know,” she laughed. “It’s huge, but I have enough memories related to this car to fill the entire front and back seat.”

  “That’s a lot of good memories. You ready?”

  She lifted her shoulders.

  “Want to put the top down?”

  “Do you know how?”

  “Do I know how? Girl, you are talking to the expert on this year and model.” He reached up and pulled straight down on the two latches at the windshield header.

  Megan looked impressed.

  He pushed the top by hand to free it, then reached below the dash and flipped a switch, holding it until the motorized top had lowered into the well. With all the grace of a ballerina, the top hid itself completely.

  Megan’s pout had turned into a smile. “Pretty uptown for an old car.”

  He started the car. Its throaty rumble sounded as healthy as any he’d ever heard. Megan’s dad had shown this ride real love. He hadn’t neglected her. He opened the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “The cover for the top should be in the trunk.”

  She sat back looking relieved. Oh, he had no intention of leaving her and not driving this car. Short of a heart attack . . . that was not going to happen. The cover was in the trunk just as he’d expected. He quickly snapped it over the top and jumped back into the car. “Let’s go.”

  “You know the way?”

  “I think so. I mean, there aren’t but like seven streets in this town.”

  “Give or take a few.”

  “And we were just there last night for the rehearsal.” He tapped the side of his head. “Car guys have excellent internal navigation systems.”

  She rolled her eyes, but that was a huge improvement over the look on her face a few moments before.

  He slowly backed out of the wide bay, exhilaration flowing through him. “I’ll get the garage door,” he said.

  “No, you can leave it up. No one will mess with anything back here.”

  He cruised around the building and then gave the accelerator a little punch to get out to the street. He slowed at the stop sign, and then came to a complete stop. “You sure you don’t want to drive?”

  She shook her head.

  “Okay. To the church.” Turning left onto Crump Farm Road, he went the posted speed limit. Dying to open it up and really let this car run, how he wished the church wasn’t just a few blocks away.

  It was only walking distance from the inn where he and the guys were staying, in fact. After driving this he’d feel like running, not walking.

  Man, it felt good to be driving this car. He rested his arm on Megan’s leg, and smiled. This. Right here. This was living.

  She smiled back, her gaze lingering as he turned to watch the road.

  He flipped the blinker to turn down the street where the church rose on a slight incline.

  Megan reached over and placed her hand on Noah’s chest. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Let’s not stop. Let’s go for a ride—open her up on the interstate.” Her eyes danced, and her smile was playful. Mischievous.

  “Really?”

  She nodded. A fast and definite yes.

  “Hell yeah.” He did a U-turn and headed down Main Street. Straight for the interstate.

  She struck a confident pose in the seat next to him with that bright pink bandana all tied up in her hair.

  Nothing had ever looked sexier.

  The heavy car took the tight turn onto the ramp with grace, handling the curves and straightaway like a race car, even though this car was built way before race-car features were part of everyday driving automobiles.

  He punched the accelerator, taking the gimme-five-over-the-posted-seventy-mph speed limit, and then pushing right on past it. He let out a wild whoop. “Yeah!”

  Megan tossed her head back laughing. “It’s heaven.”

  “Yeah, it is!”

  “Faster,” she screamed, throwing a fist in the air.

  Who gave a rat’s ass about a ticket now? It’d be worth whatever penalty they could throw at him. He had the car of his dreams, and a woman that tossed him like a tornado sitting next to him.

  He opened it up, letting her roll. Sleek and throaty, the car roared down the highway.

  Megan had her head back, grinning ear to ear.

  He’d love to be in her thoughts right now.

  At the next exit, he slowed the car to the speed limit and then exited, circling back on the interstate to head back to Boot Creek.

  “What a way to start the day,” he said.

  “You saved my morning. Thank you, Noah.”

  “I’ll be your hero any day.” And he couldn’t wait to get this car to California into his own garage. There wasn’t a thing he’d need to do to it. This DeSoto would go straight into his collection.

  He pulled into the back lot of the church. “Where do they want the car parked?”

  “If you could drop me here, and then park it at the end of the walkway where Jackson and Angie will be coming out after the wedding, I think that will be perfect.”

  “What do you want me to do with the keys?”

  “Leave them in it.”

  His jaw dropped. He knew it did. He felt like one of those exaggerated cartoon characters with the bug-out eyes. Leave the keys in it? She had to be kidding.

  “It’ll be fine. Trust me. This is Boot Creek. And it’s in front of the church. No one is going to mess with it.”

  “Okay, if you say so. I know you wouldn’t take any chances with it.”

  “Not in a million years.” She opened the door and grabbed her tote bag. “Thanks again for helping me. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t showed up, but I’m pretty sure I’d have been a mess by the time I got here.”

  “Glad I showed up when I did.”

  She waved and then turned and headed into the church.

  He moved the car to the front and got out. A light coat of dust had already settled on the paint. He was tempted to take off his T-shirt and wipe her down to a shine, not that anyone else would notice.

  Noah walked down the sidewalk, turning back to glance at the sweet ride one last time before he crossed the street.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Angie was sitting in a straight-back chair while Flynn twisted, wrapped, braided, and tucked Angie’s hair into a beautiful updo.

  “Flynn, you missed your calling. I swear, girls with years of practice don’t do hair as well as you do.”

  “Are you trying to build up my confidence before I do yours?” Flynn said through the bobby pins in her teeth.

  “No. If mine looks like that, I’m going to be tempted to sleep sitting up in a chair for a week just so I won’t mess it up.”

  “Well, she is the bride. Hers has to be extra super-duper special.” Flynn swirled another section of Angie’s hair and pinned and sprayed it.

  Megan flounced into th
e chair in front of the big-mirrored vanity across the room. “Man. You get the prettiest dress and best hair. No fair.”

  “No upstaging the bride,” Angie said. “That’s part of the bridesmaid code.”

  “Not likely to happen, my friend. Jackson is going to die when he sees you all made up. You look Hollywood beautiful. Flawless.” Megan unzipped her tote and started spreading her makeup out on the counter in front of the mirror alongside the other girl’s things. Her pile looked meager compared to the others. She could work a paintbrush like nobody’s business, but she’d never gotten into the art of makeup.

  Katy walked into the room already made up. “I’m the last one here? I thought I was going to be first. I guess y’all couldn’t sleep last night either.”

  “You know I wasn’t sleeping. Jackson and I were texting at three,” Angie said.

  “Me either,” Megan admitted, although it hadn’t just been the wedding that had kept her awake.

  “Guilty,” Flynn raised her hand. “We all ought to be a fun crew come reception time.”

  Megan leaned closer to the mirror and started applying her makeup. “We’ll have our second wind by then.”

  “We’d better,” Angie said. “Else Jackson is going to be one bummed-out groom.”

  “Somehow I think you’ll muster the energy for that,” Megan teased.

  “It’s been so weird to not be staying together this last week before the wedding. He usually stays over at my place or Billy and I at his at least a couple times a week. I miss him.”

  “Y’all are so cute,” Katy said.

  “Precious. That’s what they are.” Megan leaned back and checked her eye makeup. “Is this too much?”

  Katy turned her by the shoulders and looked. “No. It’s not enough. Come here.” She reached for an eye-shadow compact on the counter and started dabbing and sweeping. “Close your eyes.”

  “You’re going to do mine, right?” Angie stood and walked over to watch what Katy was doing.

  “Yep.” Katy took an eyeliner pen and swept soft lines, smudging them as she went. “Look up.”

  “I better not look like a clown. That feels like a lot of stuff you’re putting on me,” Megan said.

  “Ease up,” Angie said. “Katy is so good at this. We practiced mine last week. Jackson went gaga that night. It stays in place and everything. You know I’m like you, not usually much for makeup. It does feel like a lot, but it looks so natural.”