"I swear I didn't do it myself," I insisted, holding up my hands defensively. "I wouldn't even know how."
His eyes twinkled slightly, and for a moment, I thought I saw the ghost of a smile. "Come on, Morrison," he said, shaking his head lightly. "Let's go see what's going on with that car."
We stepped outside into the crisp winter air, the cold biting at my cheeks. The sky above was a dull gray, promising more snow later. Daryl walked beside me with an air of resigned determination, and I couldn't help but feel a small victory at having gotten him to agree.
Luckily, the car was only a block away, sitting there with its hood slightly ajar as if it had given up on life. We reached it quickly, and Daryl immediately set to work, popping the hood open fully and peering inside.
I stood nearby, watching him work with deft hands and a focused expression. The silence stretched between us, but it wasn't uncomfortable. There was something soothing about watching him in his element.
"What happened?" he asked after a moment, not looking up.
"It just sputtered and died," I explained. "No warning or anything."
He nodded slightly, tinkering with something under the hood. "Sounds like it could be the battery. Your friend needs to take care of this thing if she wants it to last.”
"Do you think you can fix it?" I asked, hugging myself against the cold.
Daryl glanced up at me briefly before returning to his work. "I'll see what I can do."
As he continued his inspection, I found myself studying him more closely. There was a certain grace in his movements despite their roughness, a practiced efficiency that spoke of years of experience.
"Why did you really come here today?" he asked suddenly, catching me off guard.
"I told you," I replied honestly. "I wanted to invite you to the tree lighting and bring you coffee."
He paused for a moment before continuing his work. "And what if I say no?"
"Then I'll keep trying," I said with a smile. "Because everyone needs a little holiday spirit."
He didn't respond immediately but seemed to consider my words as he worked. Maybe there was hope yet for breaking through that tough exterior of his.
"Damn," Daryl called out from under the hood, pulling me from my thoughts. "We're going to have to push the car to the garage."
"Push it?" I echoed, a bit incredulous. "Like... with our hands?"
He straightened up and looked at me, wiping his hands on a rag he had pulled from his back pocket. "Yeah, you're going to put the car in neutral and steer. I'll push from the back."
"Wait, what?" I couldn't help but laugh a little. The idea seemed absurd.
He sighed, clearly not amused. "The battery's dead. We can't jump it here; I don't have the equipment with me. Pushing it is the only option unless you want to leave it here overnight."
I glanced around at the empty street, feeling a bit silly for my initial reaction. "All right," I conceded. "How do we do this?"
"Put the car in neutral," he instructed, motioning towards the driver's seat.
I climbed into the car and shifted it into neutral as he had said. "Okay, now what?"
"You steer while I push from behind," he explained patiently. "It’s not as hard as it sounds. Just keep the wheel straight and guide it towards the garage."
I nodded, feeling both nervousness and determination. I didn't want to mess this up, especially after Daryl had been kind enough to help.
He moved to the back of the car, positioning himself behind it with a look of focused determination on his face. "Ready?" he called out.
"Ready!" I replied, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
With a grunt of effort, Daryl began to push, and slowly but surely, the car started to roll forward. It wasn't as difficult as I'd imagined; in fact, there was something almost comical about the whole situation.
We moved at a steady pace down the street towards his garage. The cold air nipped at my cheeks, but I felt a strange warmth inside from this unexpected teamwork.
