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Chapter 10
Natalie
I took the bus out to Cape Cod in the afternoon. At my apartment, I collected a few things, packed a small bag, and took a wistful look around the place. The idea of spending a night with Holly, watching movies, and drinking wine, was suddenly very appealing. Our apartment, messy and small as it was, had become home to me. When I found Holly’s ad looking for a roommate years ago, I had never thought we would become such close friends. Despite her brash, loud way, Holly had a kind heart and a fierce loyalty to her friends. It didn’t take long for her to include me in her circle and her arty group of wannabe actors and actresses, a colorful collection of people who had an adventurous approach to life. Even though I was quiet, they had welcomed me as one of them, content to let me sit in on their conversations even if I never joined it with crazy stories of my own.
On the bus, I sent my mom a message to let her know I was coming for a brief visit.
Wonderful! Looking forward to seeing you! She texted back.
Then came another message: Everything OK?
It was the middle of the week. She knew I didn’t have time off and that something must’ve happened. I chose not to respond directly to her question. I didn’t like lying to my mother, but I also didn’t want to worry her.
Is Tucker around? Don’t mind sleeping on the couch.
I would have liked to see my brother and see how he was doing. We had always been close.
I enjoyed the drive out of the city and towards the ocean. It always relaxed me, to leave behind the urban sprawl of highways and office blocks, the relentless traffic that was always blocking the streets, sirens and car horns blowing all the time. There was something about seeing the ocean and the endless blue expanse stretching away beyond my line of vision. It reminded me of the natural order of things that was bigger than me, so much more than my petty problems.
I got off in Sandwich.
I swung my bag over my shoulder and walked through the town. But instead of taking a taxi out to my parents’ place, I walked deeper into town. I liked to see the same old shops, feeling a slower pace than the frenetic buzz of the city. After a few blocks, I turned off, walking into the less trendy part of town. I didn’t mind the walk, I’ve always been fond of walking, finding it calming and relaxing. I wasn’t really one for exercise, the tight clothes and the sweating, the devices, and the heart rate measuring, but walking was good.
Ronnie’s Auto Shop was in the same building it had always been. A big, dirty building with a faded sign at the top. There was a lot in the front with cars parked in rows. Some were in good condition, others were scratched and dented. A few were downright headed for the scrap heap. I went inside and looked for Zac, and old friend from school. He had joined his father’s auto repair business straight after high school and we had kept in touch. He was one of the only friends I’d made in the new school after coming from the city.
“Nat!” I turned around as he came towards me, a big grin on his face.
“I’d hug you but my hands…” he held out his oily hands and shrugged apologetically.
“You busy?” I asked, looking around the workshop, which was filled with cars, as usual.
“Pretty much, but let me get us some coffee,” he said. “Just give me a sec to clean up.”
There was music playing in the background, some radio station. Zac’s father Ronald was in the office, an untidy clutter of invoices and spare parts. It smelled of cigarette smoke and fried, fatty food.
“Come, let’s go to the kitchen.”
The workshop kitchen was an improvement on the office, but only slightly.
“Instant ok?”
I nodded.
He made us coffee and we went round the back of the workshop where there was a bench and a table for staff to sit down.
“How’ve you been?” I asked and he smiled.
“Not too bad, you?”
“I’ve been better,” I admitted.
Zac had been a loner and used to not fitting in with the regular groups at school. He wasn’t athletic, he wasn’t academic, and he wasn’t a cultural buff. Studying didn’t come easy to him and even though the school counselor suggested that he might be dyslexic, there wasn’t money to see an educational psychologist or get extra tutoring. Zac never complained though, he said he was going to work in his father’s shop anyway and he only needed to pass. He’d grown up around carburetors and gear boxes and whenever we talked about the future, he’d always say that if there were cars on the roads, he’d have a job.
Zac didn’t ask questions. Unlike Holly, he didn’t need to have facts and details to know what was going on. He watched me and waited. I wasn’t keen to talk about it though and took my time.
“How’s Denise?” Zac had been dating Denise for a while and their on/off relationship was a favorite topic of conversation for us. I secretly thought that Denise wasn’t as serious about Zac as he was about her. She was always stringing him along, dumping him when the tourists came to visit the bar where she served drinks. Then when she got lonely again, she’d call him up and good ol’ Zac would come running.
“Ah, you know,” he said and shrugged.
