Page 12 of Second Chances

“More importantly,” Charlotte signaled Sissy for her check, “I just got off the phone with Trixie. Turns out that he is her brother!”

“What! Why has she been holding out on this information for so long? Like, hello, you have a beautiful new friend who’s recently divorced and a hot brother—why wasn’t she trying to set you two up this entire time? Oh, no, is he married? Tell me he’s not married, Lottie. I’ll be crushed.”

“He’s not married,” she assured Amy. “He’s divorced, too, and I guess Trixie was waiting for the right time to bring it up. Some people aren’t as pushy as others, you know.”

“That sounds like a personal problem, if you ask me, and I hate to say that because I like Trixie,” Amy giggled. “So, what else did she say?”

“Well, he also happens to own the auto shop.”

“No! Did I not suggest that possibility?” She had, more than once. Charlotte had to give Amy credit. “So when are you taking your car in? This is so perfect because you have been having those issues with the Tempest!”

Some of the elation wore off and doubt crept in again. “I don’t know…is this desperate? Popping in with my car? It seems kind of…cheesy.”

“You’re overthinking it, Lottie. Do you want to meet him or not?” Her best friend paused. “It’s not easy, at any age, taking a chance on someone, but if you want a relationship or even just a date, take the opportunity. Go and talk to him. If he’s a jerk or uninterested, you call it a day and move on.”

Every nerve ending in her body tingled as she stepped out of her car at Henry’s shop the next day. Crisp autumn air tickled her nose, and she caught a leaf drifting on the wind in her hands. Cautiously stepping inside an open garage bay, she called out softly, “Hello?” No one answered, and she worried the shop was closed, despite the open door. As an Eagles song serenaded her, Charlotte rounded the front end of an aging maroon Chevy truck. “Hello? Is anyone here?”

“Can I help you?” The deep timbre of his voice shook her, tantalizing in a uniquely masculine way. Ready or not, the time had come for her to meet Henry.

How had an hour passed already? Henry stretched, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. With his mechanics gone for the day, time was more difficult to track, more so now that it was October. Once the sun started setting in the late afternoon, he got lost in the stillness when it was only him and the radio. “Peaceful Easy Feeling” was playing through the shop when an enchanting feminine voice broke through. “Hello? Is anyone here?” Curious, Henry followed the siren’s song out of his office.

Surveying a streak of black on the floor, he shook his head, dismayed that Lenny hadn’t scrubbed it thoroughly enough before leaving. Henry strove to have a clean auto shop, but also understood conditions could get hectic; however, if his employees kept up with small cleaning tasks throughout the day, the job was easier. Footsteps echoed from the front of the garage, and he called, “Can I help you?”

Exiting the hallway leading from his office, he found a garage door still open. “Sorry about that; those doors should all be shut. I guess one of my guys forgot to close-” Henry cut off his explanation. It was her. The woman who haunted his dreams at night and occupied his thoughts during the day. A woman he never thought he’d see again, after two fateful glances.

His first glimpse of her had been last spring, when he’d been enjoying an unseasonably warm April day outside his shop on the wooden bench he’d built during a particularly harsh winter nearly a decade ago. The week had been a rainy one, but that Friday the sun had broken free of the clouds, making the sky a bright, cerulean blue. The Reader’s Den, Beverley’s independent bookstore, had just delivered the copy of Native Son he had ordered the week before. Surprisingly, business had been light that day, so he’d taken a cup of his newest coffee blend outside—a Mexican hot chocolate flavor—along with the turkey sandwich on rye he’d made that morning. Absorbed in his book and coffee, his reverie broke when Juan, his best mechanic and long-time friend, interrupted him with a question concerning how to bill one of the shop’s frequent customers. After talking through the logistics of giving a small discount for the cost of labor, thereby offsetting the sticker shock of the cost of the parts, a flash of pink across the street caught his eye. A woman, wearing a dress the color of a dewy rose. With a belt cinching her waist, the swell of her hips bloomed beneath it. Speechless, he watched as a breeze lifted her shiny brown hair; the strands then caressed cheeks dimpled with laughter. The first woman in what seemed like forever to draw and hold his attention, he’d been tempted to wave at her. Wave. As if he wasn’t ridiculous enough in his coveralls, mesmerizingly attracted to a stranger. After she’d entered Mr. Beans, he hadn’t seen her again.

Until the night at the state fair, when he’d spotted her on the Ferris wheel, though she’d been too far away to recognize. Later, sitting at the VIP table, sweat trickling down his back, he was on the verge of misery when he saw her again, and his body responded with the same heightened level of attraction as it had months before. Utterly feminine, she’d worn a flowy, flowered top and those pants that were neither short nor full length—maybe he’d heard his sister call them capri pants? Her feet bare in sandals, toes painted a bright purple, the eye-catching shade enticed him even more. Flanked by his sister on one side and DD on the other, he was unable to do anything but admire her from afar. Deflated, Henry turned his attention back to his food, eating the barbecue his brother had arranged for their table. At his elbow, his sister murmured, “Henry, do you ever consider dating?” Stupefied, he kept his head down, wondering if she’d caught him staring at the woman. He relaxed when she clarified, “You know…ask a woman out, take her for dinner, maybe to a movie.” With his eyes still focused on the table, she nudged him. “You can’t enjoy being alone all the time?”

“I’m not alone all the time,” he responded, maybe a bit too defensively. “I have the guys at the shop⁠—”

“Oh, I see. I hope you’re not comparing seeing the guys at the shop with spending time with a woman?” Peering over his shoulder, Trixie lowered her voice. “It’s just that you have so much to offer someone…someone you don’t already have a history with.” Trixie had not been fond of either of the women in his past: his ex-wife or the one on his other side.

Spontaneously confiding in his sister, he said, “I have been…thinking…of maybe trying to meet someone.” Her eyebrows shot up in astonishment. Before Henry could tell her about one woman in particular who had drawn his interest, Brian interrupted, nuzzling his wife’s neck. Henry looked away, not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

DD had taken that opportunity to whisper in his ear, “It’s been nice seeing you these past few months, since Effie and Josh started dating.” Well, that was stretching it, he thought. They had crossed paths exactly twice that year: once when he had run into her at the diner in town earlier that summer, and the second time was only a couple of weeks ago, when Josh had thrown a surprise party for Effie after he moved back from New York City. The lights had dimmed, then, with a local DJ announcing the opening band. Henry murmured something vague to DD in return before standing up to join George by the railing to view the concert better.

Standing in Check Care Auto, in front of Henry now, was the woman he’d been looking for, and the admission shook him. After two decades of being single, Henry had resigned himself to a life alone, his heart and dignity battered by his ex-wife’s abandonment. Sure, there had been the occasional woman, once Josh had gone off to college, that he had taken out on a casual date, sometimes spent the night with, repeating the process every so often, but he had been exceedingly cautious. Cautious wasn’t what he was feeling at this moment, not with this stunning woman in his shop, who had the blush of a ripened peach on her cheeks. Swallowing painfully, trying to get his voice to work without sounding like he was in puberty, Henry asked, “May I help you?” Original, Henry admonished himself. Truly original. That was him, he thought disparagingly, one in a million.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was as melodious as he had expected. “Are you…are you Henry?” Even from behind a pair of glasses, her brown eyes sparkled as she studied him, and she ran a slender finger across the hood of the decades-old Chevy Silverado he’d spent the afternoon working on.

Stupefied, he stared at her. “Yes, I’m Henry.” How did she know his name?

As if reading his mind, she said, “Your sister sent me. I mean, she didn’t send me. She suggested you.” Suggested him? For what? Henry imagined many things he would like to be considered for regarding this enchanting woman with eyes warm and inviting, but he was positive his sister’s ideas didn’t align with his. What could she mean when she said that Trixie had sent her? Had she noticed Henry watching this woman at the fair and somehow gotten in touch with her? His older sister had long ago given up on trying to set him up with her friends, but since he had admitted to her about the possibility of dating, maybe she had decided to try? “I’m sorry. Maybe you’re already closed?” Possessing a voice that soothed his frayed nerves, he wanted to listen to her all day. And then she smiled. “What smells so insanely delicious?”

“I just made some coffee.” A spark of interest flashed in her eyes. On a whim, Henry offered, “Would you like a cup?” Stupid, Henry, stupid. What woman wants to drink coffee offered by a strange man in an auto shop, surrounded by oil, metal, and stains?

“What? Now? Oh, I don’t want to bother you.” Was it his imagination, or had she taken a step closer?

He cleared his throat. “No, it’s no bother…it’s just in my office.” Right. The last thing she probably wanted was to follow him deeper into the shop. Plus, he recalled the smudge on the floor in his hallway, so in an attempt to save his dignity, he offered, “Unless you’d like me to bring a cup out here? You look too nice to walk through here.” Nice? The flimsy word didn’t come close to describing her, adorned in an ankle-length, fawn-colored skirt and a knitted sweater the shade of clotted cream. Henry dreaded the possibility of her brushing up against something, ruining her beautiful clothes.

She took another step in his direction, her lips parting as she did so. “I’m not afraid of a little dirt, Henry. My dad was a machinist. He trained during World War Two and taught me to never be afraid of getting my hands dirty.” His gaze dropped to her hands, small and graceful in the folds of her skirt, with long, tapered fingernails painted sapphire. “I’d love a cup of coffee in your office.”

Unbelievable, but before she could change her mind, he led her to his office. “So you said that my sister sent you here?” Brushing by him as he held the office door open for her, he swallowed a groan as the soft curve of her hip came into contact with his thigh.

“Yes, Trixie told me you could help me…with my car?” A shake of her head sent glistening brown waves tumbling over her shoulders, releasing the light scent of her shampoo…was that apples? Inhaling deeply, he stepped into the office. “It’s been giving me issues in the morning when I go to start it, and I’m afraid one morning it will fail completely.”

Deflated somewhat to discover that this spectacular woman was truly only here for an auto repair, and not sent by his sister in a matchmaking scheme, Henry began, “Okay, I can⁠—”