Page 14 of Derecho

She sat quietly up on the porch, her eyes on me as I made my way to her car and started the engine. Shit. Of course her dash lit up like the Fourth of July. She also needed an oil change, from the look of the sticker in her windshield and her current mileage.

Well, there was a start. Her car was pretty low to the ground, and I’d need to get it up on jack stands to change the oil. And that meant getting under the car. Nope. My body definitely did not like that idea.

Hot air blasted out at me from her air vents, but it might as well have been straight from the Arctic with how my body instantly switched to cold chills.

It needed to run for a few minutes, anyway, before I could hook up the refrigerant and pressurize the system again. So, I popped the hood, making my way around the front to see what I could add to the list of reasons why I wanted to strangle Greg.

“Can I help with anything?” Lainey asked, her neck stretching as she watched me lift the hood.

“No. Just figuring out the best plan of attack here.”

“Fair warning, I hate crying, but I will if you tell me the best solution would be to junk it.”

I chuckled. “Nah. Never met a car I didn’t think could be saved with some elbow grease and new gear.”

The chill had left my body, replaced with the realization that I was standing out under the sun. Another small victory. My eyes left the car, turning around to look at the fields to the side, and out back of my house. I’d forgotten how beautiful the ranch was in summer.

Back to the task at hand, Lach.

I found the low pressure port for the refrigerant, then slipped on my gloves and safety glasses. It took me only a few seconds to connect the kit, and sure as shit, her system pressure was almost non-existent. A minute later, I was happy with where the system pressure had been charged to and I disconnected everything, capping the low pressure port and shutting the hood before I sat back down in the driver’s seat. This time I was freezing my ass off not from nerves, but because I’d fixed Lainey’s AC.

I’d fixed her AC. And it was simple, sure, but it felt like I’d finished an entire marathon in the ten minutes I’d been working.

I pulled off my gloves and my safety glasses, leaving the car running so it would be nice and cool for Lainey’s drive home.

“It’s good to go,” I called out.

“Really?” she asked, getting to her feet. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” I replied, stepping up onto the porch with her. “You need your oil changed. I’m gonna order what I need, but I might not…” I swallowed hard. “I might not be able to do it.”

“You’re my favorite Ford from here on out, Lach, just for fixing the AC.” Her hand landed on my arm and she gave it a little squeeze. “Thank you for pushing through to do something so kind for me.”

“It was nothing.”

“Not nothing. A very big something.” Her eyes narrowed. “So, take the thank you.”

I nodded. “Give me your phone before you drive off.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you weren’t feeling good, and I know it’s a long drive back into town. I want you to let me know you got back safe. And I want you to let me know how the AC runs in a day or two.”

“Oh.” I thought for a minute that she might protest, but instead she pulled her phone out of her pocket and handed it over to me.

Lainey’s words stuck with me the rest of the day, long after I got the text that she made it back to her place safe. I hadn’t thought I was ever going to be able to get off the porch and then, I just did. I wanted to help her, I pushed through, and…nothing bad happened. In fact, something great had. She’d smiled. When she was saying thank you to me. When she sat in her car. When she drove off with a wave.

That smile meant more to me than I should probably ever fucking admit. But I wasn’t above holding onto it like a goddamn lifeline.

Lainey

My eyes were locked on my phone as Greg’s breakfast cooked on the stove in front of me. Bacon grease popped, landing on my arm. The searing pain jolting me out of my trance.

“Ouch! Shoot.” I turned, my ridiculous belly pressing into the counter as I flipped on the tap. Cool water poured over my arm, and the pain faded.

“Smells like you’re burning the bacon in here,” Greg grumbled as he walked into the kitchen. Shit! My phone was still turned on. I could see the light illuminating the counter, even though the screen was turned down. All Greg had to do was flip it over, and he’d lose it.

He was a bottled up pressure cooker lately, and I knew what was coming. Seeing the text messages from Lachlan would only send him over the edge.