The Road to Finding Me

by S M Broad

  “Oh, damn. You were serious?” He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck.

  I remain in place, with my arms crossed over my chest, staring at him.

  “It’s gonna take some time to find the part, if we can find it at all. I’ll give ya a tow to the shop. Come on,” he calls as he retreats back to his truck.

  I have no choice but to follow him, so I grab my purse out of the passenger seat of my POS and climb up into the cab.

  “Hey, what’s your name? I’m Davis,” he says with a smile and a hand extended.

  “Aayla…Where exactly is your shop?” I reply, returning his handshake. He seems like a nice kid. Maybe he’ll know a place I can stay while my car gets fixed.

  “Grayson. ’Bout thirty minutes away. Just let me hook your car and we’ll be on our way,” his fading voice answers as he walks away to hook up Millie.

  After he’s done and has called the shop, we’re off. I try to make small talk as best I can, but I’m getting tired and I just want to get there and find a hotel. I lean my head against the window and my eyes get heavy.

  I’m startled awake by Davis gently touching my shoulder. I spring up and look through the front windshield. We’re in the lot of an auto body shop called Boone’s Cars & Bikes. I hop out and follow Davis into a bay with some sort of classic car up on the lift, and a twangy country song flows from the speakers.

  “Hey, L! Got a real hunk of junk for ya, brother!” Davis yells over the music, then looks back at me and adds, “Real work of art came with it too.”

  I stop dead in my tracks and look down to survey my outfit. I’m wearing a black tank that I stole from Leila, shorts, and black flip flops, but I’m not sure what my hair and face look like after that catnap I took.

  “What the hell you yellin’ about, D?” a deep, husky voice filters out from in front of the car on the lift. The music gets quiet and out steps a tall mountain of tanned muscle in a wife beater. The top of his gray coveralls drape around his waist, and grease marks cover his arms. It isn’t until I hear a chuckle and throat clearing that I realize I’ve been checking him out, and I look up to lock gazes with the most vivid pair of green eyes I’ve ever seen.

  Chapter Eight

  My cheeks heat and I know they’re red as a fire engine when I break his stare and look anywhere but at him, failing miserably, while nervous energy runs through me. Way to be a creep, dummy. I avert my eyes in a squint, pretending to read a sign behind his head. Why does he make me so squirrelly? I don’t even know the man.

  He wipes a grease-covered hand on his leg then extends it, waiting for me to say something.

  As I open my mouth to speak, Davis cuts in, “Transmission is shit, but problem isn’t that. It’s the car.” He raises an eyebrow at me, then looks back to the man he called L.

  “I’m Aayla Erics,” I yammer in a rush, as I grab his outstretched hand in the most awkward handshake ever. Smooth, real freakin’ smooth. Lei would totally tit punch me for being such a girl right now.

  “Latham Reed, at your service. What kinda car you got there?” He grins crookedly, then drops my hand to examine my car. A low whistle hums from his gloriously full lips when he sees my very old, very beat up Gremlin hooked to the tow.

  “Yeah, that’ll take a while.” Latham shoots me an apologetic grimace.

  “Told ya I had a good one, dude!” Davis laughs as he eyes me, then throws a boyish smirk toward Latham. All of a sudden, it feels like he’s not talking about the car anymore. I step back awkwardly as they unload my car onto a lift in the bay, then find my way inside to wait. The second I open the door, I’m hit with a gust of cold air and audibly sigh. I find a chair, sit down, and run a hand around the back of my neck. What a disaster. I look through a big glass window to see Latham and Davis talking. They both glance at me, then Latham frowns and shakes his head. The hell is that about?

  I must have zoned out because the next thing I know, Latham is coming through the door with Davis right behind him, and he mumbles for him to look up a part number.

  “No good news then?” I wipe my hands on my shorts and stand to Latham’s eye level, which still requires me to crane my head upward because he's so tall.

  “Afraid not. It’ll take at least four weeks, maybe longer. I’m really sorry, Miss Erics.”

  “Aayla. Call me Aayla.” I rub my forehead. I feel deflated and miss Leila, but I refuse to go back there and drown in the darkness. I start to dig in my purse—for what, I’m not sure—when one of the guys clears their throat.

  “I don’t know where you’re headed, but there’s a hotel right down the street you can stay at, if you’d like.” I look up to see Latham smiling at me kindly. Damn, those eyes. I could get lost in them if I let myself.

  “Well, gee. Guess I don’t have much of a choice, now do I?” Damn my sass. I cringe at the sarcasm that bleeds from my mouth. “Uh. Sorry. I’m just tired. Long trip.”

  I toss him a pathetic smile and turn around to pick up my duffle from the chair. Everything else will just have to stay in my car for now; there’s no way I can haul all my shit by myself. I’m pushing out the door, back into Satan’s idea of heaven, when I hear feet shuffling behind me.

  “Can I give you a hand with your stuff?” Latham’s raspy voice stops me in surprise. I turn back around to see all my bags sitting behind him, and Davis trying to cover the shit-eating grin on his face. I can only manage a nod as they both lift up a couple bags each, and step around me to an old green pickup truck in the parking lot.

  “I’ll give you a lift. It’s hotter than Satan’s balls out today,” Latham says, as he makes his way to the driver’s side. I feel my eyes crinkle as I laugh at his joke, feeling a spark of lightness, but it quickly dies on my lips when I look up to see Latham staring at me. He shakes his head and looks away, embarrassed, then picks up my suitcase to toss in the bed of his truck. I throw my duffle to the middle of the bench seat and give Davis a grateful smile, to which he simply nods and heads back into the shop. The truck starts and country music blares from the speakers, so loud I flinch.

  Latham grabs the knob and cranks it down to low. “Sorry about that. I love my country music,” he chuckles. I’d laugh too, but I don’t see the appeal. What’s so great about losing your truck, your house, and your dog?

  “Ah. Not a country fan, I take it?” He laughs at the grimace on my face as he taps the wheel to the beat of a song.

  “Not so much, sorry.”

  “Stick around here long enough. We just might make a believer outta ya.” He smiles as he pulls into the parking lot of a Comfort Inn Extended Stay and shuts the engine off.

  “Right. Well, thank you for the ride, and for looking at my car.” I nod and grab my duffle. As I open the tailgate to get the rest of my bags, Latham appears out of nowhere and takes them from me. I didn’t even hear him get out of his truck. He waves at me to go ahead of him, and I gather I have no choice, so that’s what I do. We make it through the revolving doors to the counter, and the receptionist smiles big as she pulls some papers from a drawer.

  “Welcome to the Comfort Inn, here in beautiful Grayson. How can I help you today?”

  “I need a single room, thanks.” I say with a bit of snark, then roll my eyes at myself. She doesn’t deserve my attitude. Neither does Latham, who has been nothing but helpful, but I figure it’s the best way to ensure nobody asks questions. After I check in and get my room key, I slump my way to my room, glancing back a few times while Latham follows quietly the whole way. By the time we make it to the door, the silence makes me want to scream. I don’t want to talk to anyone, but the voices in my head are even more terrifying. It’s a vicious cycle. I slide the card into the slot, then wheel around to grab my bags from Latham.

  “Thanks again, for all your help.” I raise my arms at my sides a couple times, like an idiot, and load myself up with all my luggage.

  “It’s no problem…” He rubs his now free hands together, then takes a deep breath before continuing, “So
, since you’ll be sticking around for a while, and don’t know anyone, I thought maybe you’d like to go to dinner or a movie with me tomorrow night?”

  I stare stupidly at his kind eyes, unable to form words. Why would he want to go out with me? Obviously, he’s just being nice. My face probably looks like that dumb surprised face emoji, but I can’t seem to look away from his handsomeness. What’s he all about? I see something in his gorgeous emerald gems, and it makes me want to learn more about him. No, that’s not the plan. Damn the voice in my head. She’s right, but I’m still intrigued.

  “Oh. Sorry. Um. No.” I shake my head. “I mean, no thanks,” I ramble, feeling even dumber than before. His eyes squint just a fraction before he steps back and nods his head once.

  “All right. I’ll uh…let you know about that part as soon as I hear. Have a good night.”

  He spins on his heel and stalks down the hall before I can say anything else. That went well. I’m such an awesome human being. I open the door to my room, shuck my bags down, and fall face first on the bed.

  The next morning, when I wake up, I have a bunch of texts and missed calls from Leila, trying to find me. I scroll through them, but only respond with a generic “I’m fine” text. I drag my smelly self off the bed and into the shower before getting dressed and heading out to explore Grayson. I haven't even made it past the Comfort Inn when I see Latham strolling down the sidewalk. Trying not to be a total stalker, but full of genuine curiosity, I follow behind him to see where he's going. He walks for about another minute, saying hi to a few of the local townsfolk as he goes, before he turns into a tiny diner called Abby's Place. I stop right in front of the big window and peek inside, deciding it seems like a harmless place to squash the hunger my stomach is so obviously grumbling about. I quietly sneak past Latham, who has his back turned to me, and slip into a booth to wait. A woman with a kind face, who seems to be in her early thirties, comes over with a full pot of coffee and a ceramic mug in tow. She places it on the table and fills it with the dark, rich-smelling brew.

  "Hiya there, I’m Abby. Can I get you something to eat?" She gives me a bright smile and I instantly feel at ease around her. I glance over the menu, and a spinach omelet jumps out at me. After she takes my order and walks off, I grab a handful of creamers, dump them in my cup, and take a sip of my coffee, savoring the deep, smooth flavor. I take a look around the quaint diner, smiling to myself at the retro charm it has. I look down to pick up my cup and when my eyes come back up, I see Latham holding a carrier full of coffee cups and a brown paper sack. He gives Abby a smile and a nod, then glances in my direction, causing him to do double take and stumble before turning down the aisle and heading my way. I slink down into my seat, hoping he'll bypass my table for someone else's, someone he knows. Anyone but me.

  I couldn't get that lucky.

  I peek to my right and there he stands, in all his greasy overalled glory. Trying to play it cool, I pretend to reach for something on the floor before sitting back up and jumping in mock surprise.

  "Oh! I didn't see you there." I inwardly groan, feeling like such a moron.

  His chuckle makes me look up, and I regret it immediately because now all I want to do is stare at his amazing green eyes all day.

  "Sorry about that. I just wanted to see how your first night went." He sets the coffee carrier down and places a small card on the table, then picks the coffees back up.

  "It was good, I guess. I went straight to bed. Thank you, though," I say. I should be surprised by his kindness, but that's all I've been given by this small town, despite my sour attitude.

  "It's no trouble, and I do want you to know that I'm available if you need something. Anything really, so don't be afraid to let me know." His smile turns up at the corners, and he taps the card before he walks out of the diner. I glance down at the white business card he left.

  Latham Reed

  Auto Body Repair/Mechanics

  Boone's Cars & Bikes

  Grayson, GA

  205-4358

  He gave me his cell phone number? I know it's not the shop number because I looked that up. Shocked and wondering what to do, I eat what I can of my food, then pay and wander around Grayson for a while before heading back to my room and crashing for the night.

  It's been a long day full of weird feelings and I want to run away from them.

  Chapter Nine

  “I’m gonna kill you, bitch!” Brant screams at me as he charges. I stumble on my way to the kitchen and reach for the knife, turning just as he closes in on me.

  I bolt upright when I hear a scream and look around frantically to see where I am. A hotel room? Realization dawns and I wipe my forehead to discover I’m covered in sticky sweat. Ugh, lovely, another nightmare. Every night has been filled with terrors of Brant, and memories of a pair of emerald green eyes that call to me.

  It’s been a month and a half since I got stranded here in Grayson, and Latham and Davis are no closer to finding the part for my car. I have a feeling I’m gonna be here a lot longer than I hoped. I face the fact that if I’m going to be stuck here for God knows how long, I’ll probably need a job, so I don’t run out of money. I reach for my phone to see that it’s only six forty-five a.m., and I have a new text from Lei.

  Lei: come home.

  I smile. It’s the same text she’s sent me every day since I left. I miss her like crazy, but there’s no way I can go back yet, if ever. I toss the covers off and make my way to the shower to rid myself of the yuck that’s seeped into my clothes.

  Half an hour later, I step out of the steamy bathroom to rummage through my bags to find something to wear. Deciding on a gray off the shoulder top, jean shorts, and my black Chucks, I get dressed, swipe on some makeup, and braid my hair to the side. I steal a look in the mirror and sigh, then grab my messenger bag and head to the small diner I found the day after I got here.

  I’ve been going there nearly every morning since then, finding the comfort within its walls to be exactly what I needed to quiet the panic that seemed to settle in whenever I was alone. Abby always makes it her mission to greet me with a sweet smile and keep my coffee cup full. It’s like she knows I need the bustle of the diner, even if she doesn’t know why.

  As I’m walking, I wonder if Abby would hire me. I haven’t been the most social person but you gotta do what you need to.

  Abby’s Place sits just four buildings down from the body shop, and every morning since I followed him here, Latham comes in to buy coffee and breakfast for the guys. He hasn’t made another effort to ask me to dinner, but he always stops by my booth to say hi and give me a car update, if there is any, before heading back to the shop. His patience and kindness never seem to waver, which makes me feel warm inside. He isn’t pushy or demanding, he simply makes an effort to remind me that genuine people still exist in the world.

  The bell chimes as I walk in and Abby gives me a sunny, warm smile. I look at the big framed sign on the wall that boasts the “Best Breakfast Burritos & Cinnamon Vanilla Waffles in Grayson.”

  “Morning! Coffee coming right up.”

  I sit in the same booth every morning, so I trudge over and take a seat, just as Abby arrives with a full pot of coffee and a mug. I muster a smile as she pours my cup of humanity, and grab a menu to look for something to eat.

  “What can I getcha?” She sets the pot down and waits for me to answer. The bell chimes again and Abby turns to greet her new customer.

  “An application? I have waitress experience.” I’m hopeful she’ll give me a chance; it’s really the only place I feel comfortable here. She looks me over quickly and smiles.

  “You start tomorrow morning. Be here at nine.” She juts her hip out to rest it against the table and crosses her arms.

  “Just like that?” I’m so stunned I can’t say anything else.

  “I know a good soul when I see one.” She places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes.

  “Can I get you something to eat?”

  I frown
into the menu, guilt wracking my brain at her words, but I decide on the famous bacon, egg, and hash brown burrito, with a side of cinnamon peach oatmeal. She nods and smiles, then hurries away to put the order in. I sip my coffee to pass the time, my mind running in circles. I hear the bell jingle a few times as people come and go, and after three refills of coffee, I get up to go to the bathroom but slam into a brick wall. I fly backward and hit my ass on the floor with a grunt.

  I huff out a breath and look up with my mouth open, ready to rip this asshole a new one, when I’m struck still by a pair of brilliant green eyes.

  His eyebrows are dipped in concern as he thrusts one tanned hand out to help me up. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  I grab his hand and pick myself up, counting to ten so I don’t spew my heinous, bitchy word vomit all over him. Chill out, crazy. You weren’t paying attention either. I dust myself off and try to give him a small smile instead of continuing with my resting bitch face.

  “It’s fine. I’m all right.”

  I side step him to find my way to the bathroom. When I come back out a few minutes later, he’s still standing by my table, but now he’s holding a brown sack, and my food is steaming from a white plate.

  “I swear I’m fine, Latham. It was an accident.” I sit and pick up my burrito taking a huge bite, so I don’t have to say anything else.

  “Right. Well, have a good day then.”

  He heads to the door and I feel like a huge bitch. Once again, he was being nice, and I couldn’t stop myself. I am not this person. Before I know what’s happening, I’m jogging after him.

  “Hey! Hey.”

  He turns to look at me, surprise all over his face.

  “I’m sorry, I’m not very social in the morning. And it’s been a rough couple of nights.” Stupid. Shut up. “I mean, uh…Just, sorry for being such a bitch to you.”