by Pinki Parks
Through the haze on the road ahead she spotted a sign at an intersection, indistinct until, slowing down, she could finally make out the name of the place it was pointing off to.
She smiled to herself when she could finally make out the word on the sign.
Evansville.
3 Miles.
She glanced in her rear-view mirror as she prepared to make the turn, the cloud of dust she had been kicking up behind her all morning finally clearing. She was on what looks like the main street of a small town. Small shops on either side, vintage street lamps painted black with flower pots hanging off either side.
Quaint!
She slowed down to a crawl as her eyes are busy reading the shops, named after real people, no less. Just as her mind started to wonder about what life must be like for these people, a figure suddenly appears in front of her car, she swerved not to hit him.
“Watch where you’re going!” they both yelled out. She kept driving.
But her car didn’t sound good. From the rear-view mirror, she could see him still standing in the middle of the road starring at her. “What is his problem?!” She shook her head.
From the sound of the engine, the mechanic knew she wasn’t going to make it, wherever she was going. He stood, watching her drive off until the engine blew. “There she goes.” He was ready for her. “Hey Joe!” He called out. Joey runs out of the shop and looks in the same direction. “Go get her.”
Brook was no car expert but even she knew that wasn’t good. The sound of her engine changed, and smoke started to blow out the from under the hood as she kept rolling forward until the car stopped on its own.
“Shit.” She was fascinated by the dark cloud as it billowed from her car before finally dissipating in what little breeze there was.
Brook leaned back against her seat, slightly panicked, cursing at herself for leaving her phone behind. She lets out a sigh of defeat looking to the sky as if in hope for some celestial to come to her rescue.
The rest of the street was deserted other than, of all things, a tow truck. It was idling the other side of the level crossing, waiting for the signal that it was safe to drive across she assumed.
She heard the rumble of its engine increase in pitch when it started moving, and dropped her hands away from her face as it approached.
The truck’s headlights flashed. She hoped that meant it was stopping, then she leaned through the open window as the truck passed, retrieved her keys from the ignition, her purse from the seat and put on her best smile while she stood and waited for her rescuer to emerge. The truck backed up toward her car. She held her hands over her ears to block the loud warning beeps as it neared.
Relief flooded Brook’s body as the beeps stopped and the truck’s engine idled then stopped, clicking as it started to cool. She looked back along the road again just to be certain the other creepy guy was gone. She heard the truck door open and the crunch of footsteps approaching.
“Joey at your service, ma’am!”
Chapter Two
“Thank you so much for stopping.”
“Not a problem ma’am, sounded like you needed some help.” Joey, not being a mechanic himself, didn’t bother to ask her about the problem, although he learned basics from working in the garage. The smoke was a clear enough indication that it was beyond his expertise. “Uh…why don’t I hook you up and tow you back to town.”
“Can you take me to the nearest garage?”
“You just passed one, ma’am. I’ll take you straight there.”
“Thank you.” Slightly surprised at the convenience of everything. First the tow truck arrives within five minutes of her car breaking down, now a garage not but five minutes away? What next…a diner across the street that serves yummy raspberry pie? Brook thought. Raspberry pie was Brook’s favourite, although she never let herself have any. Never a moment of indulgence since she started dating Brad. Not even at their wedding where they served raspberry pie for dessert in her honour. She heard it was delicious.
While Joey towed her car back into town, he yapped on and on about this and that. Joey could never keep his mouth shut. He loved to talk. He was a small man of only five feet two inches tall, dark curly hair with ocean blue eyes. Joey had the misfortune of losing his loving wife of ten years and his house all in the same month. His wife was a cashier at the local supermarket and had no insurance. With the funeral cost, their credit card debts and the mortgage, Joey couldn’t make one payment. That’s when Deacon took him in. Joey worked the tow truck for Deacon’s Auto Shop.
“That’s so sad.”
“Oh, I’m okay. God only gives you what you can handle, ma’am. I try to keep my mind on other stuff. No point on lingering in the pass. Not like Deac…” He stopped himself. Joey never liked talking about other people, especially when it came to family business. “Since I started workin’ for Deacon, I’ve manage to save up some money, in a few years, I’ll be able to get my own place. Maybe. You know. I’m not sure if I even want to get my own place. I mean, right now, I’m in a sweet camper out in the woods. It’s perfect.”
“You live in a trailer?”
“Yeah! And there’s nothing wrong with that.” He asserted himself politely. “I don’t need much for myself. I got no kids. Plus, this way, I’m close to family without imposing on them. My uncle lets me park on his farm. But at least, I’m in my own place. You know, a man has got to be his own person.”
“Absolutely”
“Here we go. Deac’s Shop. He’ll take good care of you, ma’am.”
“Is he an honest mechanic?”
“Deac’s the best there is. People come from other towns to his garage.”
“Popular guy.”
“Not popular. Good. When other shops can’t figure out it out, they send them here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sometimes, the other mechanics can’t fix the problem. Or they don’t know what’s the problem. You see, you’ve got to diagnose the car before you can fix it. The other guys can’t even diagnose the problem, sometimes. You know, they can’t figure it out, so I go pick up the cars and take them here. Deacon figures it out, fixes them up good. The other guys are kind of jealous of him. There’s a little animosity…”
“So, I’m in good hands then?” She cut him off before he went off on a tangent again.
“You betcha!”
She jumped out of the truck, walked around to the other side and stopped in her tracks. There he stood. In the middle of the street again. This time she had a better look. He was very tall, she wished she had put on her stilettoes that morning. It’s hard to look tough when the other person is towering over you.
He too had a better look this time around. She was clearly a city girl that was well off. Her clothes were glittering as though they had come from the dry cleaners. And her hair glowed in the sunlight as though she just had it waxed, he thought.
“Put her in the second bay, Joe.” Deacon said without taking his eyes off her.
“You got it!” Joey pulled the tow truck around and backed the car into the garage slowly.
“Thanks buddy.” Surprised at himself for noticing her hair and at the same time peeved by the near hit earlier.
She walked up to him in a huff. He was tall and broad shouldered with muscles bulging from his t-shirt. He wore a white t-shirt and a mechanic jumper stained with black grease and soot with the top taken off and tied to his waist.
“You know…when you’re driving, it’s best to look forward.” He spoke before she could say anything.
Knowing she was well out of her element, she mustered up the courage to stand tall, her head reached his chin. Calmly and softly, she said “You know, when crossing the street, you’re supposed to look both ways.” Brook replied.
They were both right.
He paused, looked her in the eyes and continued. “This is Evansville, I was born right there, pointing at the doctor’s office, I went to
school right there, he points to primary school around the corner, I work right there, pointing at his garage behind him, and I eat right there, pointing at the diner across the way. This isn’t a street ma’am, this is my home.” You don’t get much traffic in Evansville and a much less chance in getting run over for crossing the street. If you do, most people would just wave at the driver because they probably knew the person. There was but one street light in Evansville, a town of two thousand people with a small main street, a stretch of boardwalk along the lake with more shops, a cluster of houses stretching fifty blocks from the core and the rest was farm land.
She found the sentiment charming. She softened her gaze and stance and asked about the garage realizing she needed his help. “Can you fix my car?” She said with a tone of controlled anger and irritation.
“I’ll have a look at it in a bit.” Deacon replied looking over at the diner.
“Thank you.” She finally managed to squeak out a couple of more words. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Thanks.”
He sucked on the toothpick and swirled it around to the other side of his mouth. “You’re welcome, ma’am. Deacon Ashby.” Deacon tried to avoid staring at her beautiful eyes.
“Who is?”
“I am. That’s my given name.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, I was just—” Brook couldn’t think of a way of finishing the sentence that wouldn’t leave her sounding like a complete idiot, so she didn’t.
Deacon stood, obviously waiting for her to finish her sentence. He looked at her for a second then turned his attention to her car. It was the first chance Brook had to look at him properly. Up until then the only thing she had noticed about him were his angry eyes.
His hair was brown with a bit of a wave and there was just a glimpse of silver in his sideburns. The T-shirt he was wearing was tight, fitting him perfectly, showing off his bulging muscles. They had a definition that said they were used, and used hard every day but in honest toil rather than for vanity. His skin was tan, the natural colour of a man who spent a deal of time outdoors. His hands were rough and calloused with a couple of red grazes on the knuckles. Working hands. The only thing she could pick out as a flaw where a few scars on his forearms and one above his eyebrow.
“Miss?”
Brook jumped. She had been staring at that hard body without realising it. She closed her mouth which had been subconsciously gasping open slightly while she stared.
“Are you okay?” Ending his question in a high friendlier tone. Showing a bit of concern, since she was a very attractive woman who needed some help.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I uh...just need to know when I can have the car back.”
“I hate to tell you this, but your engine blew.” He paused and tried to explain it so she could understand. “That’s when all that black smoke came out of your car. That car is done.”
“What? But I thought you said you could fix it?” Panicked and confused, Brook suddenly realizes she may be stranded.
“I never said that, I said I would have a look at it. After I eat.”
“Okay, well, Joey said you could fix it. That you were very good. Can you fix it or not?”
“Joey says a lot of things, ma’am.” His gaze now landed onto hers and they locked eyes. Brook had beautiful large green eyes that made it hard for a man to look away. He noticed her soft fair skin, compared to the girls around here, she looked like a movie star. He broke the silence and took composure. “Your engine blew. It’s dead, can’t be fixed. You need a rebuild or a completely new one put in. If it is what I think it is, I have to order you a new engine or look around the county for an old one I can put in. That’s going to take a while. But right now, it’s 1 o’clock ma’am, and I’m hungry. So, if you don’t mind.” He started to walk over to Sam’s Diner.
Brook shrugged as he leaves her standing in the middle of the street. She decided to talk to Joey. She walked pass the tow truck, straight through the open garage doors and poked her nose inside the auto shop. Joey was putting away some tools. “Joey?” She needed some answers. But to folks around this town, she was one of those who keeps asking questions until you tell her what she wants to hear.
“We don’t have much call to fix this type of car in these parts, ma’am. No one around hear drives a Lexus, ma’am. Isn’t that right Franky?!” Joey waved at Franky as he walked into the garage. Franky was a twenty-year-old high school drop out that Deacon let work in the garage doing odd jobs while he learned from Deacon. He was a fast learner and pretty good with cars. “Damn!” He said noticing the Lexus. “No, you don’t see this kinda car round here much.” Franky was a good-looking guy and had the girls lined up. He was young, athletic, and a player. He always came in the shop late but he worked hard and stayed late when he needed to.
“It would be hard to find an engine for ya.” Joey continued.
She looked around the lot and the parked cars on the street. Every vehicle she could see was a pick-up truck with oversized wheels.
“We also have this way of driving that involves us watching where we are going.”
She gives off a slight laugh at his joke.
“No, I’m just kidding. You probably lost some oil. I’ve seen that happen. Did you notice a patch of oil where you parked it last?”
“No.” she replied. “That guy said I would need a new engine.”
“Deacon, ma’am? He’s probably right. If she’s smoking like that, she’s done.” Referring to her car.
“So, how long is that going to take?” Brook just wanted to know when she could get back on the road.
“I would say a week.” Joey looked at her, realizing she needed to be told that she was going to have to stay in Evansville. The shocked, worried look on her face made him uneasy. “Listen, I’ve got an extra pull out in my camper if you want, but I don’t expect a nice woman like you would want to stay in a small little camper.”
“That’s nice, Joey but I’ll pass.”
“Well, there is a motel up that road, about five minutes from here. You can walk but it will take you a good half hour. I can take you there but, you probably want to eat here first. You’ve got more selection in town. If you know what I mean. Tell you what, why don’t you go over there to Sam’s. You’re probably a little stressed out over all this, am I right.” Nodding at her while he continued taking. “I’ll come getcha in about an hour or so. Give you some time to relax. Get yourself some raspberry pie.”
Surprised, Brook repeated. “Raspberry pie?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty amazing. She’s famous for it. Won a blue ribbon for that pie for that past 12 years.”
“Thank you, Joe.” As she wrinkled her brow in awe and confusion. She wasn’t quite sure what she was in awe over, the fact that they actually had raspberry pie or at how much Joey could talk. Reluctantly, she left her car behind and walked over to the diner.
“You’re most welcome, ma’am.”
“Call me Brook.”
“Sure thing, Brook.”
“Brook.” Franky tipped his hat at her as she walked pass him making it obvious that he was checking her out.
Chapter Three
Brook had spent her summers with her grandparents who lived in a town not unlike Evansville. Granted they lived in a huge mansion with lots of land just outside of the town, but the town itself was similar if a little bigger. She spent every summer with them until she was eight, when her parents divorced. She had been happy there.
As she opened the door to the diner, the smell of fried food and fresh baked pie flooded her nose. Given that it was lunch time, all the tables were taken. The cling clang of the utensils from people eating and from the dishes being washed and put away added to the overall friendly chitter chatter of the happy customers. The décor was old fashion diner style tables and chairs, and the place was obviously well used by the locals. There was a row of booths along the wall to the right and tables in the middle. The counter was to her left and
there sat Deacon. She shrugged as though shaking off any inhibitions or shame, lifted her chin to make herself believe that she fit in and made her way over to the counter. She sat down next to him, leaving an empty seat between them, where she placed her purse. She quickly glanced at the small menu, which was kept at each station.
The waitress walked over to take her order. “Hi, you ready hon?”
“I’ll have the Chicken Caesar salad.” Brook would normally eat something much healthier, but the menu was limiting to say the least.
“And to drink”
“Some sparkling water, please.”
Deacon sat there silently watching her order as he waited for his fries and steak. She had a certain elegance about her, he thought.
“Sure thing! Mrs…?” The waitress paused, waited for her to fill in the blank. Sam had a way with people. She was really good at getting people to do what she wanted.
“It’s Ms., actually. Or soon to be. I’m separated. Divorce takes a bit longer. Ms. Tilson. But you can call me…” She stopped in fear of sounding too formal. “I’m Brook.”
“Hi Brook, Samantha Meyers. It’s nice to meet you. Everybody calls me Sam.”
“It’s good to meet you, Sam.”
Sam went over to the cook’s counter. She ran the whole place with one other waitress, Sheryl.
Deacon was quietly paying attention. He was interested in this woman’s life, somehow.
Brook tried to remember the kind of things she’d heard adults talk about in small towns back when she was eight. “So, are you local?”
“Born and bred ma’am.” Deacon took a sip of his coffee while still waiting for his food.
“You like it here?”
“Never known anything else.”
“You never wanted to go somewhere better?”
