by Emily Childs
“Don’t let it go to your head, Zachariah, you’re still a jerk.”
“Hey, just because Maggie calls me by my full name doesn’t give you permission.”
“Why not? What’s wrong with Zachariah?”
“Want me to call you Josephine all the time? We both have mouthful names, so it’ll take two minutes just to get to the point.” I spare her a quick glance. She’s not frowning, even seems relaxed. “I go by Zac because my parents wanted my name to sound like it came from the Bible, or something. That’s what my uncle said. You know, so I’d always walk the good path.”
Jo snickers. “That doesn’t mean you should hate the name, unless you’d like to be known as a bad boy.”
“No, I use Zac in the event I wander from the straight and narrow a bit. Eases the namesake guilt and all.”
Jo rolls her head, so she’s facing me and clicks her tongue. “You know if I hadn’t made a promise not to like you, I’d almost consider you decent company.”
“You made a promise to not like me.”
“Sure did. Had a ceremony and everything. It was more of an oath, actually.”
“My charm is too perfect for an oath, Jo. You should know better.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she says and sighs. “I guess I’m not too disappointed you’re not entirely awful to be around.”
“Same goes for you. Hopefully you won’t be too overwhelmed tonight, things get a little loud.”
Jo laces her fingers together. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure it will be great.”
“Why so nervous then?”
“I’m not nervous.” But she gives in when I roll my eyes. “I don’t do big things like this at home.”
“Dinner?”
“No. Get-togethers, things with crowds in general. I’m busy with work, you know.”
“Sure, but there’s always time for important people in your life, right?”
She looks out the window again, her voice distant. “We’ve had a few formal dinners with Emmitt’s family, I guess.”
“Not yours?” The easiness that’s been in her voice is fleeting, and I want it back.
She smiles at me. It’s sad and hiding something deeper. “Now, family is a topic for another day, Zachariah.”
Now I’m intrigued. I pull up to my mom’s house and pocket my keys. It’s a battle to the door. I practically spring to her side when she’s halfway out, but I win again. I finish opening her door and she laughs.
Really laughs.
“Zachariah,” she says with a heavy sigh. “If I don’t hate you, what am I supposed to do with you?”
With my hand on the front door, I wink. “Guess you better like me, Jo. It’s really what’s best for everyone.”
9
Jo
Zac wasn’t lying about the overwhelming crowd, but I’ll admit I think it’s overwhelming in a good way. I squish between Olive and Jace, Rafe’s cousin. The guy across from me looks like Jace but with redder hair and a stronger chin. Will is nice, but probably the quietest of the group. I don’t know the entire story, but Olive started to explain some sort of Whitfield family saga and how the cousins only met a little over a year ago. Her attention is stolen by little Brin who keeps throwing food from a booster seat.
“Where’s Millie?” Zac asks Rafe.
“Up at the Big House,” he says. “Ollie’s mom had her gall bladder removed. Mama went for a visit to keep Bernadette from burning the house down from boredom.”
I take it Rafe’s mother must join the Dawson family dinners, too.
Zac introduced me to his Uncle Kent, who has nicknamed me ‘smasher’. I kind of expected Kent to be angry at me since I’ve since learned he owned the shop before Zac, but he’s been chatting my ear off and teasing me since I got here. I like him. I like Agatha, too. She’s as welcoming as a fire at Christmas, always asking if I’m comfortable, and checking in on how Zac and his crew treated me yesterday.
Everyone is squeezed into Agatha’s little house in one long, folding table in the living room. Zac helps carry plates of food and helps his mom settle the roast and potatoes in the center. I can’t help but smile as I watch them. It’s strange. They have such a normal, healthy relationship. A funny thing to find strange, maybe, but for me it is. He respects her, that’s clear as glass, but Zac seems to genuinely enjoy being around his mom.
When we’re still passing out a tossed salad and rolls, a knock comes to the door, but before anyone can answer it, a woman with sunglasses and wavy red hair breezes inside.
“Dot!” Agatha says. “You made it, hon. Have a seat.”
Dot places one hand on either of Agatha’s shoulders and lets out a long sigh. “Aggie, thank you for inviting me. Daddy was about to send me on a visit with the long-winded project manager for the parking lot. The man’s cornbread isn’t done in the middle, if you know what I mean. I didn’t think I’d ever get out of there. You’ve saved me.”
“Well, you have your come to Jesus with your daddy later and get on in here. We’re about to eat.” Agatha takes one of Dot’s thin arms and tucks her next to Kent at the end of the table.
Dot waves at Olive, Lily and Jace, then offers a smack to Will’s shoulder. She ruffles Rafe’s and August’s hair, but for Zac she tugs on his beard.
“Come on, Dottie,” Zac grumbles as he rubs the spot on his beard. “Do you always need to make your entrance like the annoying little sister?”
“Always, Zachariah,” she says, but her eyes fall to me. “Oh, who’s this?”
“Jo Richards. She’ll be working at the shop for a few weeks,” Zac says.
“Ah, right,” Dot says, her eyes brighten, and she reaches out to shake my hand. “I almost forgot about that excitement. Dorothy-Ann. Obviously, you can call me Dot. We’re all grateful to you for shaking up Zac’s boring life—gave us a few laughs.”
I smile, but heat rises in my cheeks. “My pleasure.”
That draws more laughter, but I don’t bury behind any walls. I’m getting used to the jokes about the accident, and it’s amusing that Zac is usually the brunt of them all. I almost forget about the upheaval in my own life. Not quite, but almost.
“All right, y’all,” Agatha says halfway through the meal. “You’re going to be required to hear a few words about Travis—it’s his birthday after all, and it’s tradition in this house we mention a favorite memory.”
I settle back in my chair. Kent’s face grows somber, and Agatha already wipes away a stray tear, but I’m most interested in Zac. He’s smiling, but there is an ache in his eyes that I know too well.
“Well, I’ll go first,” Kent offers. “My idiot little brother decided to be clever one year—I was a senior in high school. I wanted to pull a prank—you know—on my way out before graduation, but I was shot for ideas. Trav assured me he’d take care of the entire thing. He was barely sixteen at the time. So the day arrives, I’ll never forget sitting in biology class and hearing people shrieking out in the hallway. Naturally, we all peeked out. There, running down the halls, were sheep. Frightened, frustrated, lost sheep. On one side a number was spray painted on their wool, on the other side a picture of my face tied around the shoulders.
“The thing is, Trav intentionally skipped number five.” Kent laughs with the rest of us. “He did it so the teachers would think there was always a sheep missing. I got suspended, and when the principal found out Trav was behind it all, he did too. Can’t say our mama was too proud, but he came through like he said. I left school a legend.”
Agatha goes next. “Well, I have buckets full of memories. I know most of y’all didn’t ever meet Trav, but he would’ve been the life of these dinner parties. I’ll never forget the day he told me he was going to marry me whether I knew it or not.” Agatha scans the table, everyone waits with wide eyes and even I’m anxious to hear their love story, even if the ending is tragic. “I wasn’t too fond of Travis Dawson at first. He was cocky, and bold. And much like his son here, never shaved his chin.”
/> “You like it, Mama,” Zac says as he strokes his beard.
His mom blows out her lips. “Anyway, I told the man as much, I said, ‘You are dreaming, Dawson. I’ll never marry you.’ Travis wasn’t one to give up, and he told me he’d get me to fall head over heels for him before the summer was over. Turns out he was right. By the Fourth of July, I would have married that man—of course I was still in high school, but a few years later, there we were at the church speaking our vows. Travis was the most determined man I knew, and I’m grateful he never gave up that summer.”
Kent squeezes Agatha’s hand, and slowly the whole table turns eyes onto Zac. He drums his fingers and keeps his gaze on his plate for a long time. I have an abrupt notion to take his hand and give it a squeeze. I blink through the thought and clasp my hands in my lap.
“Well, I don’t want to repeat last year’s, so I’ve been thinking for a few days now trying to pick a good one. Although, I don’t have any bad ones, even when Daddy was mad at me, he had a calm way about him.” He shifts in his seat. “There was one night, it was probably only a few weeks before his accident, that I caught him dancing with you in the kitchen, Mama. He winked at me over your shoulder. That night, I can remember him sitting on the edge of my bed and telling me to always be a man who wasn’t too chicken to show a woman his feelings. You know, dance in the kitchen, do the dishes, cry if you need to, open doors for the ladies.” He finds me across the table, and I draw in a sharp breath. “I don’t know what made me think of that night, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”
Agatha dabs both eyes now. “He sure loved you, son.”
“I know. He loved you, too.”
Tears sting my eyes. I am made of broken bits and pieces, and can’t think back on memories with such fondness. But hearing Zac and his family talk about sweeter days alters my already weak preconceived opinions of this man and his life. He’s not the devil incarnate. He’s a man. My shoulders slouch. He’s a good man.
I relax and listen to all the conversations around the table, stealing bits of backstory on everyone. Jace and Will work with their father’s business acquiring land for commercial buildings or housing units. Jace doesn’t seem like a businesswoman until she starts talking, and I admit I’m impressed. She’s the VP of advertising and earned it from the ground up as the coffee runner, to secretary and up. Together the siblings work at a community center in after-school programs for kids interested in business.
“It helps to give kids something to do. I think it keeps people out of trouble to have a place to go,” Jace tells me.
“Dot, how’s business for you?” Will asks.
Dot pushes some green beans around on her plate. “Not great. We’re down to three days a week now. We can’t open for seven because Doctor Raymond can only come three days. I’ve tried incentive programs to get more employees, but no one seems interested. It’s not as if they’d work for free.”
I look up from helping Agatha clear some of the plates and ask, “Where do you work?”
“Oh, I’m PR for a clinic my parents opened up. Seemed like a fabulous idea a year ago, we didn’t expect there would be such a need for care compared to so little employee help. Right now the place is run by two nurses, a secretary, and one doctor with limited time.”
My heart leaps. “A medical clinic?”
After I say it, I realize how ridiculous I sound, what with Dot mentioning nurses and a doctor, but it sort of slipped.
Zac clears his throat. “Dot, I forgot to mention that Jo is a physician assistant.”
“No kidding? Know anyone looking to work at a non-profit clinic for low-income folks? We have staff lunches every Friday.”
“Maybe I could help while I’m here.” I don’t know why I said that. I don’t even know if I can. “I mean, after the shop, of course. The doctor would need to agree to supervise, but he shouldn’t need to be on-site every day. I can even write prescriptions if needed. Just a thought—I’m not even sure what the rules of this situation are—so I might be breaking them.”
Dot’s eyes are wide. She grins at Olive and Jace, then back at me. “You’re serious?”
I peek at Zac. He’s watching me in a way that twists my insides. “If it’s allowed, I’m quite serious.”
“It’s allowed. Isn’t it Zac?” Dot says, like she’s daring him to argue.
He drums his fingers again, staring at me. “I can’t imagine it would be a problem, but we can always ask McKinnon.”
“Send Aggie,” Olive says, and Kent snorts in his glass. “That will soften the judge right up.”
Agatha flicks drops of water at Olive from across the table. I’m jittery all at once, but I’m not sure if it’s from embarrassment because I need a judge’s approval, or if it’s the idea of getting back to patient care.
Maybe the jitters are because the remainder of the night, Zac keeps stealing glances in my direction, and I might like it more than I should.
10
Zac
After the easy meal with my friends and family, I sort of thought Jo might be getting used to me, used to everyone in my life. On Monday, however, I discover I guessed wrong.
Jo marches in, plops into the office chair, and simply offers a curt nod in my direction before getting to work doing . . . something. I don’t know what, since I haven’t left any kind of instructions.
“How is the day going?” I ask a few hours later, when I dare speak to the scowl on her face.
“Fine.”
“Okay.” I can practically see the caution lights blaring around her, screaming ‘proceed carefully.’ “Need anything?”
“A plane ticket home?” She tilts her head like a challenge.
This woman is going to do me in. My scalp prickles and a furrow builds in my brow. I’m not stupid, I know a woman like Jo isn’t excited to be working in an auto shop, but yesterday she’d been relaxed, even excited about the possibility of teaming up with Dot while she’s here. Now, those frosty layers have returned and I’m starting to get whiplash.
I clear my throat and keep my tone light. “Everything all right?”
Jo snorts. “I’m sitting behind a desk confirming oil change appointments. Do you think everything in my world is all right?”
“Seems like it might do you some good to try something new. You need to learn to play nicer with others.”
Jo’s gaze narrows, but by the way her jaw pulses, I guess she’s biting back a retort. How things have shifted from pleasant conversation and laughter, to this steel wall between us in twenty-four hours I don’t know. I must’ve offended her in her sleep. I shake my head and walk away. I don’t know how to get through all this frustration between us. I don’t even know why I’m trying.
“Zac,” Rafe says. “Are you going to help us?”
I shake the haze in my mind, thoughts of why Jo hates me, why she bites my head off, those kinds of thoughts have clouded my mind all morning and I need them to stop. August and Rafe lower the backside of a commercial pickup truck. It takes care and needs to move slowly with the weight. I take inventory on the jack and make a note to replace the old thing. It’s up to code, but I don’t like the way it’s shuddering.
“You’re distracted today,” August mutters and dips beneath the back of the truck to remove the creeper.
“I’m good, just tired,” I say through a grunt. “Hey, Aug, watch it, this is coming down.”
“Hang on,” August replies and reaches for the creeper stuck underneath again. “I lost it.”
“August, look out!” Rafe shouts.
A loud bang rattles in my skull. There aren’t many accidents in the shop, but there are some close calls from time to time. When the jack slips, my head whirls through a slew of dangerous situations, from maiming to death, and I feel like I might puke. I take pride in a safe workplace, but when the cries of pain echo in the shop, I go full force into emergency mode.
“Rafe, lift the bar!” I shout and crouch next to August as his brother pumps the
jack again. The heavy tool snagged August’s hand. I think of missing fingers, crushed bones, but when I force August to show me the damage, it’s all covered in blood. My stomach lurches. I don’t know the extent of the damage, but I know we need to go and now. August grits his teeth and holds his hand against his chest. When the truck is secure again, Rafe slides to his side.
“Let me see it.”
Mouse rushes around the side of the truck, slams the radio off, and hunches next to us, saying nothing. August’s hand trembles as Rafe inspects, and I get a good enough look to know that all five fingers are still attached under the blood. Bones intact? I don’t know.
Rafe looks a little queasy but scoops August under his arm and helps him stand. “Come on, we’ve got to get it looked at.”
I rush to the door and hold it open as our mangled crew rushes into the office. “Mouse,” I call over my shoulder. “Keep an eye on the shop.”
Mouse salutes and still says nothing.
August curses under his breath, but he spits them out like he’s trying not to. In the chaos, I didn’t even see Jo sweeping the tile until I shove into her backside.
She scowls at first, but her eyes widen as she takes in blood and pain and something broken. “What happened?” She drops the broom in a clatter and rushes to August.
“Accident with the jack,” I say as I strip my jumpsuit. “We’re taking him to the ER.”
“August, sit down,” Jo commands and hurries back to the front desk.
“What?” Rafe gapes. “He needs stitches.”
“I can see that, and it needs to be cleaned, sit unless you want him to wait two hours, bleeding and in pain.”
Jo brings her messenger bag out from behind the desk. I release a pent-up breath when she pulls out a first aid kit and a black leather kit of something I can’t see. I move aside. Jo is a new person, and I’m a little intoxicated watching her switch gears from angry to thinking on her feet.
