Wait for Me

by Diana Persaud

  Andy nodded, his double chin jiggling with the motion of his head.

  “Mr. Everett has a reputation for honesty. I’m going to build on that to expand our customer base.”

  Andy still seemed unconvinced.

  “What’s your plan, Tom?”

  “First I need to hire another mechanic. For simple oil changes, I can get some high school kids who are interested in learning the trade to volunteer.” Excitement crept into his voice. “There are three tow truck companies in the city. I’m going to offer them a cut if they bring business my way.”

  Andy grinned.

  “That’s brilliant. Doesn’t cost anything up front and they get paid a percentage when you do.”

  “We’ll be partners, Andy. We’ll split the profits fifty-fifty.”

  “I don’t know anything about running this shop, Tom. Hell, I can’t even change my oil.”

  “I’ll handle everything, Andy. Inventory, payroll, taxes. All of it.”

  After screwing the top back on, he closed the hood, slamming it down harder than necessary.

  “We’ve been friends for a long time, Andy. Have I ever steered you wrong?”

  Andy raised his brow and crossed his arms.

  “You told me to dump Janice.”

  Tom shrugged.

  “I was trying to save you from the big ‘M’.”

  Andy laughed.

  “Marriage isn’t a death sentence, Tom.”

  “The fuck it isn’t. The rest of your life. Fucking only one woman. Sounds worse than a death sentence to me.”

  “That reminds me, Janice wanted to know if you’re bringing anyone to the wedding.”

  “Your impending marriage has fried your brain,” Tom said, shaking his head.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Taking a woman to a wedding? You seriously think I want that kind of trouble?”

  Tom walked into the office and opened the small refrigerator. He withdrew two beers and offered one to Andy.

  “You really think bringing one of your girlfriends to our wedding is going to make her consider marriage?”

  “Of course. Weddings are all women ever think about. I don’t need a woman pressuring me into getting hitched.” He took a swig and looked around the garage. “Especially not now.”

  Andy’s phone rang.

  “See, always checking up on you.”

  “She’s not always checking on me,” Andy denied.

  “Hi, Sweetheart….At the shop with Tom.”

  He turned away, avoiding the smirk on Tom’s face.

  Tom set his beer down and flipped through the book on the desk. He found some statements and gathered them together.

  Andy returned to the office, shoving his phone into his pants pocket.

  “Janice is fine with you not bringing someone.”

  He refrained from responding. He was planning on hooking up with a lonely bridesmaid. Nothing made women hornier than a wedding. One night stands were not his preference, but he didn’t need any unnecessary distractions right now. Once he secured funding, he would buy Everett’s Auto Body Shop. He wouldn’t have time for a short term relationship.

  “Here are recent statements. As you can see, Mr. Everett is making a profit. In this location, we are guaranteed business and there’s plenty of opportunity for growth.”

  “Let me look at the statements,” Andy said.

  He left Andy in the office while he returned to the workshop. He had to change a water pump before he went home.

  He popped the hood of the Honda Civic and drained out the antifreeze. Then he loosened the tensioner and unhooked the serpentine belt. He hunted through the large red toolbox, pulling out each drawer, searching for a 3/8 inch drive ratchet and socket.

  I really need to organize this drawer. I’ve got standard mixed with metric.

  Finding the right size tools, he returned to the Civic. He removed the bolts from the water pump and lifted it out. With a spare rag, he cleaned the surface then inserted the new water pump. Using his 3/8 inch drive ratchet and socket, he secured the bolts. He checked the serpentine belt for any signs of wear. Finding none, he reattached the belt. He returned his tools to the toolbox and retrieved a bottle of antifreeze. He filled the water pump, holding his breath to avoid the distinct pungent-floral scent. He recapped the bottle and returned it to a nearby workbench. He started the Civic and let it run for a few minutes. He checked for leaks. Finding none, he shut off the Civic and closed the hood.

  He cleaned up before returning to the small office.

  “I did a cursory analysis of Everett’s books. It looks like he made a nice profit, mainly because he never reinvested anything in his business,” Andy said, leaning back in the chair.

  Tom waited patiently for his final answer.

  “With your work ethic and commitment, I think you have a pretty good chance of making this work.”

  “So you’ll give me the money?”

  His heart seemed to skip a beat.

  “You got it, Partner.”

  ***

  Anjali plopped down on the couch and slipped on her glasses. She opened the folder and sorted through several brochures and Fact Sheets.

  Family Tree. Helping childless couples fulfill their secret wishes for more than ten years.

  She skimmed over the brief explanation of In Vitro Fertilization procedures.

  Ovulation and egg retrieval. I have to take…gonado-what?

  She frowned.

  Oh great. I get to take a hormone ‘agonist’ or ‘antagonist’. That sounds like…fun.

  She continued reading.

  A transvag ultrasound?

  Her thighs pulled together.

  Needle aspiration? They’re going to put a needle where?

  She read the passage again.

  “You’re really going to go through with this?”

  A deep voice broke her concentration. Sanjay leaned casually against the door frame, studying her.

  “Well I’m not getting any younger, Sanjay. As much as I hate to admit it, Ma is right about one thing. I want a baby and if I want to minimize health risks, I need to do it before I turn thirty-five.”

  “You’re only twenty-eight. You’ve got plenty of time.”

  She closed the folder.

  “Time for what? To find ‘Mr. Right’?”

  He nodded.

  “He’s not out there, Sanjay. I’m not going to let my life pass by waiting for the mythical ‘Mr. Right.’”

  He looked at the thick white folder on his coffee table.

  “You’re going to read all those profiles to find a…daddy?”

  “Sperm donor. Yes. It’s not like I have a choice.”

  He gave her an odd look then sat next to her.

  “I bet half those guys lied when filling out their profile.”

  She shrugged.

  “It’s possible.”

  “You should choose someone you know.”

  “Who?”

  “Me.”

  She swallowed.

  “Although I’d want to do it the old fashioned way.”

  “Sanjay—”

  “Why pay fifteen grand when you can get it free?”

  His sexy smirk eased her discomfort and she chuckled.

  “I appreciate it, Sanjay. But it would mess up our friendship. What about…uh…Ginny?”

  “That was last week. I’m seeing someone new. Surita.” He leaned back. “She might decide to join us.”

  She shifted uncomfortably.

  “Okaaay. That was…information I did not need to know.”

  “Think about it, Anjali. The offer still stands.”

  He rose from the couch.

  “You need anything else before I turn in? A blanket?”

  “I’m fine with just a throw. Thanks for letting me spend the night.”

  Everything in her apartment was boxed and ready for the moving company coming in the morning.

  “That’s what friends are for. Good night, Anj
ali.”

  Sanjay went to bed and she remained on his couch thinking about his offer.

  I could certainly do worse than Sanjay. He’s handsome and smart. Fit.

  She set the Family Tree folder on top of the manila folder and placed her pillow on the couch.

  Knowing my luck, I’ll end up falling in love with him if we had sex.

  She turned off the lamp and lay on the couch.

  But he’s not interested in marriage. And I want more than just sex.

  She turned to her side.

  Am I being greedy in wanting a faithful husband and children?

  She sighed and closed her eyes.

  The only thing I can control is whether or not I have children. So what’s it going to be? Donor X or Sanjay?

  She turned, this time lying flat on her back. She stared at shadows on his ceiling.

  Stop thinking about Sanjay and go to sleep. Tomorrow is moving day.

  Her heartbeat increased slightly with excitement. She planned the next day and eventually fell asleep.

  The movers spent part of the morning emptying her apartment and loading the moving truck. After a quick walk-through with her landlord, she followed the truck to her new house.

  She had selected this suburban town because it seemed like a nice place to raise a family.

  I can’t believe it. I am finally moving into my own house!

  She parked her car in her driveway and strolled to the front of her Victorian. She found it impossible not to smile at the cheerful color of her new home.

  Robin’s egg blue.

  Freshly painted white decorative trim reminded her of a gingerbread house. One corner of the house featured a spire, rising to a sharp point.

  Just like a castle.

  The room beneath the spire was shaped like a hexagon and featured four large windows.

  That’s the perfect place to set up my office. And the room beneath will be the perfect reading spot. All that light!

  Giddy with excitement, she ran up the steps. She stood under the ornate covered entrance, digging through her purse. Her hand trembled slightly as she slid her key into the lock and opened the door. She stepped aside to let the movers do their job. Standing on the small porch, she reached over and plucked a gardenia blossom from an overgrown hedge. She inhaled the light fragrance.

  Is this what home smells like?

  The movers worked quickly to unload the moving truck. It helped that she didn’t have much furniture in her small apartment. When they were gone, she began unpacking.

  After putting away essential kitchen supplies, she went upstairs to set up her bedroom. She spread her bed and hung her clothes in the wardrobe. Her stomach grumbled and she decided to drive into town for dinner.

  Sitting at the table waiting for her dinner, she observed other patrons. A young couple sat at the table near her. They set their baby carrier on the table and his mother cooed softly.

  A shrill scream from a toddler at another table startled the baby and he wailed. His mother fiddled with the belts then picked up her baby. She rocked him gently, calming him. He gurgled and giggled.

  A sharp pain twisted in her stomach and she recognized the feeling.

  Jealousy.

  Voices at another table became louder and more strained. A teenage boy was arguing with his father. As the exchange became more heated, they stood quickly, causing a chair to fall backward. The father’s fist connected and the teen fell backward. Sprawled on the floor, he covered his bloody mouth. His father ran out of the restaurant as other patrons pulled out their cell phones.

  Why is it that abusive parents have children and people like me, don’t?

  The manager led the injured teenager to his office in the back.

  Maybe I should just adopt a child. They need someone to love them. And I wouldn’t have to deal with stinky diapers.

  She drummed her fingers on the table.

  But I will have to deal with their problems. What if I’m unable to love an adopted child? Would it be easier to love my own? Does this make me a terrible mother?

  A distinctive sizzle pulled her away from her thoughts.

  Mmm. Garlic lime shrimp grilled on an open fire.

  Her mouth watered. The waitress set down her plate. Steam wafted off bright green broccoli and a pat of butter melted on her mashed potatoes.

  “You need anything else, Hon’?” the waitress asked.

  “No thanks,” she replied, picking up her fork.

  She crossed off the first item on her mental list. She had a beautiful home. Her next goal was to fill it with love.

  Adopt or IVF? Or throw caution to the wind and accept Sanjay’s offer?

  Chapter Three

  Who’s that?

  Tom stood by his window, peering at his new neighbor.

  Snug blue jeans hugged generous curves while a plain white shirt hung loosely on her frame, hiding the rest of her charms. His eyes flicked toward her house. Nothing moved.

  Is the rest of her body as tanned as her arms?

  He took off his shirt then jogged over to his neighbor.

  “Hi, I’m Tom, your neighbor. Need some help?”

  She glanced up. Coffee-brown eyes roved over his body, lingering on his bare chest before moving up to meet his eyes.

  He smirked at the spark of desire in her eyes.

  “No thanks,” she replied.

  The spark of desire vanished, leaving him momentarily confused.

  She fiddled with the lawn mower.

  He dropped to his knees beside her.

  She pulled out a long vine, freeing the blades.

  “It’s a hot day. I’m surprised your husband isn’t out here mowing the lawn.”

  “I’m not married,” she replied.

  She stood and dusted off dirt and twigs from her knees.

  “If your boyfriend doesn’t mind, I’ll be happy to mow your lawn for you,” he offered.

  “No boyfriend, either. I’m Anjali,” she replied, offering her hand.

  He shook her hand.

  “Do you have a lawn mowing business?” she asked.

  Tom chuckled.

  “No, I just like to offer my services to pretty ladies.”

  He flashed her his sexiest smile. She blushed and turned away, pretending to study her backyard.

  I must be losing my touch.

  “I appreciate your offer, Tom, but I think I can handle mowing my lawn.”

  “What about your nose?” he blurted out.

  “My nose?” She touched her nose. “What’s wrong with my nose?” she asked, a little defensively.

  “Nothing. You have a cute nose. I just meant—sunburn. You don’t want to get a sunburn.”

  “I’ll be fine. One of the benefits of having brown skin. Less likely to get sunburn.” Her eyes drifted to his chest again. “You should probably put on your shirt.”

  He glanced down at his muscular abs.

  She wants me to cover my chest? I thought women liked looking at my bare chest.

  “So you don’t get sunburn,” she added. “Your pale skin will burn easily under this hot sun.”

  He nodded silently. She pulled the cord. With a loud roar, the lawn mower started and she pushed it along her yard.

  What the fuck just happened here?

  He ran his fingers through his hair.

  How can she possibly resist me?

  He sniffed his arm pits.

  Just deodorant. Maybe she doesn’t like my cologne?

  “Tommy!” a familiar voice called. He closed his eyes and swore.

  Just what I need.

  He took a deep breath and forced himself to turn around.

  Janice stood on his front porch, waiting for him.

  Tossing his shirt over one shoulder, he walked slowly back to his front porch.

  “Janice. I’ve told you before. I prefer Tom or Thomas,” he replied tersely.

  Janice bit her bottom lip. Her eyes caressed his chest and dipped down to the front of his jeans.<
br />
  I should have taken Anjali’s advice and put on my shirt.

  The wind shifted and her perfume enveloped him. His throat felt scratchy and he coughed.

  “Why are you here, Janice?”

  “Andy told me about your business proposition. Why don’t we go inside?” she suggested.

  He climbed the porch steps and crossed his porch in two long strides. He opened the door and motioned for her to enter.

  “After you, madame.”

  Janice walked in front of him, swinging her hips seductively.

  As soon as he shut the door, she was pressed against him. She grabbed his head and plastered her fish lips against his.

  He pushed her away. She stumbled backward in her heels.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded.

  “I want you, Tommy,” she purred.

  She caressed his chest. He grabbed her wrist and held it away from him.

  “You’re engaged to my best friend. Andy. Remember him?”

  He used his shirt to wipe off her lipstick, rubbing vigorously to remove the bright red stain from his lips.

  Janice snickered.

  “Andy knows nothing about satisfying a woman.”

  She licked her lips and stepped away from him. She pulled up her red skirt, revealing skinny thighs and lacy red panties.

  “Stop that!” he snapped.

  “I need a real man, Tommy,” she begged.

  “Then why are you marrying him?”

  Janice looked at him as if he were stupid.

  “His money. Why else would anyone marry that fat slob?”

  “You gold digging bi—”

  “How dare you judge me when you’re after his money too,” she countered.

  “He’s investing in my company, not giving it away.”

  “Fuck me or you can kiss your money good-bye.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Andy and I had a deal. He’s not going to bail on me because you ask him to.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  He wanted to wipe that smug look off her face. Instead, he gripped the doorknob and yanked open the door.

  “Good-bye, Janice,” he said through gritted teeth. He refused to look at her.

  “I’m really surprised at you, Tommy. Andy said you’d nail anything in a skirt.”

  He gripped the doorknob until his fingers went numb.