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Lizzie
“Thanksforlettingme tag along today.”
I watch as Caleb’s fingers tighten on the steering wheel. He rotates his elbows a little and rolls his shoulders. The movements are subtle, and I suspect, subconscious. A way of releasing tension when under pressure.
“No problem,” he mumbles.
Not wanting to push my luck, I sit on my hands as he pulls the truck out onto the main road toward the Forge. I feel the rumble of the engine through the seat and lean back against the now-familiar sensation. The vehicle is old but well cared for, like the rest of Caleb’s things. It rolls over with a purr of health, even if it’s occasionally sticky on the clutch.
As we head through town, past the grocers and the post office, I open my mouth again but no words escape. Part of me feels the urge to apologize or to claim I’ve changed my mind about Gatlinburg and will just stay in East River for the day. The last thing I’d wanted to do with my suggestion was to make Caleb uncomfortable.
After the hours of hard work he’d put in on my house, it had felt natural to exchange the favor; to offer company on a visit I had already seen go sideways once.
Any time the subject of his mother is raised, Caleb goes stony and more than a little awkward. It had been the instinct of a friend to offer my company on his next visit.
Given the tight line of Caleb’s jaw, as he navigates around a parked van, I wonder if that had been a foolish assumption on my part.
“You know, if this is an issue, I don’t have to—”
“Is that Jace?”
I blink at the interruption, and follow Caleb’s squinting stare out the front window. At the end of the road, in front of the auto shop, a guy in overalls is waving out into the road. Like he’s trying to hail a cab.
“Is he waving at us?” I ask.
“No one else on the road.”
Besides the school runs and market day, East River is a quiet enough town that the roads are almost always empty. We’re the only vehicle in sight.
As we draw closer, Caleb pulls the truck over into the garage’s forecourt and I pedal the window lever around and around. The window lowers in time to frame Jace’s smiling face.
“Hey!” he greets.
“Hey yourself, stranger. How was Knoxville?”
Jace’s dad had sent him to secure a supplier contract, and he’d been out of town all of yesterday. My intuition, however, tells me Jace went more for the car show being held there. The man is nuts about the Corvette he’s building and parts are always easier to come by where the old cars are numerous.
“Dirty and loud,” Jace wrinkles his nose. The man is clearly a small-town gent down to his shoes. “But that’s not what I need to talk to you about.”
“Me?”
“You.” Jace glances across the cab at Caleb, his eyes turning wide and puppy-dog. “You mind if I steal her for two seconds? Please, please? I won’t hold you up.”
“You’re already holding us up,” Caleb says, but there’s little malice in his tone. He just puts the truck in park and leans an elbow on the door. When I stay put, unsure, he waves me on with a half-smile. “Go on. I’ll wait.”
I hop out of the cab. “What’s up?”
Rubbing his hands on his butt like he’s expecting to find back pockets in his overalls, Jace glances between me and the cab.
“Not here.”
“Wha—?” I don’t even get the full word out before Jace has hold of my arm and is towing me towards the garage. “I can walk, you madman.”
Beyond the roll-down doors, on the left, there’s an alcove. Usually full of brown boxes, deliveries, and supply parts, it now stands empty. Jace is quick to maneuver us inside, out of sight of the road.
“Okay, this is how I die, isn’t it?” I joke when he turns on me. His eyes are intense but there’s nothing about Jace that’s threatening. He’s bent low like we’re co-conspirators in some grand scheme and he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet. Like he has too much energy to contain.
What on earth?
