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I laugh, using the burst of energy to get the last lug nut off. “Not that I know of.” I give her a grin. “I’m positive I would remember meeting you.”
As I work on getting the tire changed, we ask each other mundane questions.
“What’s your favorite color?” she fires off.
“Fire engine red,” I answer, tongue in cheek.
She giggles. “Somehow that wouldn’t surprise me.”
“Kidding. I guess green’s kinda okay. The way these trees are right now. Not my favorite though” I look up, barely able to see them anymore since it’s gotten so dark. “It’s the promise of a new life cycle. I enjoy the winter too. Everything dying off only to be born again. It’s my favorite. What about you?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Mine isn’t nearly as deep as yours.”
I curse myself for having to find some sort of hidden meaning in everything. I forget how it can sometimes make others feel put off. “Doesn’t matter. Your reasons are yours.”
“Rose pink,” she answers. “When I was little, my grandmother would take me out to her rose garden. My favorites were the pinks. The reds always seemed so dramatic to me. They would darken and then, almost as soon as they did, they’d start turning brown and die off. She always said it’s because red-hot passion burns out quickly, but the pink ones? They gradually grow into their color, finding their hue in the process and not burning out so quickly.”
“Hmmm,” I make a noise in my throat. “My Chief has pink roses all the time. Says he grows them in a greenhouse from his mom’s heirloom plants.”
“Chief Hudson?” She raises her eyebrow at me.
“Yeah.” There’s a sinking in my gut. Chief Hudson doesn’t have many rules, but there is one. Don’t date either of his daughters.
She smiles brightly. “He still has them, huh? Good to know the old man hasn’t changed.”
“You know him?” I will my voice not to rise an octave as I finish putting the tire on and hope I can get out of here before I lose another piece of my heart. Please don’t let him be her dad; please don’t let him be her dad.
“I should hope so,” she laughs. “He’s my dad.”
And it’s at that moment I realize this is never going to work out. Quickly, I help her pack up the jack kit and put the tire in her trunk. “You should go get that patched up.” I rub my hands on my pants. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”
“I owe you for this.” Her eyes are full of a promise I would typically go for. “Let me take you to lunch tomorrow?”
“It was my pleasure,” I answer, giving her a non-answer for the lunch . “I gotta get going.”
She’s talking to me as I run for my Jeep, jumping into the driver’s seat. I wave as I crank it and get away as fast as I can.
It’s only as I’m driving down the other side of the mountain that I realize she has my jacket.
Part of my uniform.
Something I’m not allowed to lose.
And I know I’m completely and totally fucked.
