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“Car won’t start, huh?” His words came muffled through the closed window. “Want to pop the hood?”
I opened the door and got out. “My car is fine.” Obviously, it wasn’t. “I can figure it out myself.”
“Of course you can do it all by yourself,” he grumbled.
“I’m sorry, what? Say that louder?”
He shook his head. “No need. It’s all coming back to me.”
Okay, now I was annoyed. What was coming back? My ability to rely on myself? To plan ahead? “I have roadside assistance in my phone contacts, thank you very much. And I’ve changed my own oil.” Never mind the car would still start if it needed oil. Besides, I’d had it changed two weeks ago.
“How about I jump the battery and at least get your car moved by the other house? The guys at the rental will want this space clear.”
He had a point. “Fine. And…thank you.”
In not much time at all, Adam moved his truck near enough to my car to hook up jumper cables and charge the battery. We tested the charge, and after light sputtering, the car started. All fixed! I’d be on my way tomorrow.
Adam returned to his truck. I followed him down the gravel drive. Thick trees blocked his house from view of the road. Now, in front of the house, blue skies opened up behind an adorable two-story Cape Cod with red siding. A modest house compared to some lakeside homes up here. Not fancy but livable.
Sure enough, Adam helped unload my bags. “Your car’s making a funky sound.”
Oh great, so he’d heard. My loud music merely masked the sound inside the car. “Uh, yeah. That’s a thing that recently started.”
“I’ll take a look later.” He held up a quick hand. “If you want.”
Clearly, he’d gotten the hint I could fend for myself. But his help wasn’t unwelcome. He’d always been good at repairs and offering to fix things for other people. “Okay,” I said finally.
He smirked. “I knew you’d fold.”
Ugh! Right when I’d been thinking nicer thoughts about him, he had to throw it back at me.
Without another word, Adam headed inside, leaving the front door wide open. His mom would have berated him for treating the house like a barn leaving it gaping like that. Too bad she was in Ireland pubbing it up with the locals.
Inside the house, a small and cozy living room greeted us. Paint cans and painting supplies were stacked in one corner. Paint fumes lingered despite the open windows.
“Sorry for the smell.” Adam’s arm muscles flexed as he hoisted my luggage up the stairs.
He’d always been a lean guy having played baseball. He was one of those guys who ran for fun, or at least he had in high school. I only ran if I woke up late for class.
I gave Adam plenty of lead time before following. The stairs were of the old and creaky variety which covered the bass beat of my heart. One second, I berated myself for taking up his offer to stay here; the next, I reasoned with myself everything would be fine.
My mantra. It had gotten me through a lot of tough times. Everything is fine. If I can make it through this, I can make it through anything.
I’d managed to complete multiple higher education degrees. I’d defended my dissertation. I’d survived a devastating break-up.
It wasn’t until I reached the top of the stairs that I realized the break-up I’d first thought of was with Adam, not Stu. Wow, nostalgia was a head trip.
The room Adam led me to was painted in soft lilac with slanted walls on one side. A white wrought iron bed stood against the opposite wall with a sweet floral print quilt. An alcove window offered a cushioned bench below it and overlooked the sparkling blue lake.
I must have gasped at the view because Adam joined me looking out the window. “I know, right? Such a good view.”
“I’ve missed coming up here.” Too late, I realized I’d said this out loud.
We stood mere inches from each other. Last I’d seen Adam, we’d been equal in height, but now he seemed taller. His creamy white skin had always tanned evenly while my fair complexion tended to burn. His skin appeared more weathered from sun and life, with the finest beginnings of creases at the eyes. The boyishness of his face had grown more angular, but he had the same soft brown eyes with flecks of amber. And infuriatingly perfect eyelashes.
Adam stepped back. “The bathroom is downstairs. The one up here is gutted. I’m waiting on a plumber to come next week and then I’ll tile.” Apparently realizing he’d said too much, or I wasn’t interested, he moved toward the door. “If you’re hungry, I have food. Come down when you’re ready.”
He headed down the noisy stairs. His sounds disappeared until I faced my own quiet.
