by Andrew Grey
Granted, Lee couldn’t see him, so he wouldn’t immediately know the mileage that Dean had put on himself, but it was the wear and tear on his spirit and on his soul that Dean really worried about.
“Lee is a good guy,” James said, and it took Dean a second to realize that James was talking to him. “He’s been through a lot, more than most people his age.”
Dean could have sworn by the little grin on James’s lips that he knew all Dean’s secrets.
Chapter 2
LEE STUDER sat quietly in the passenger seat of his mother’s car.
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” she asked for, like, the twelfth time that morning.
“Mom, it was a cold and I’m fine.” He was so tired of sitting at home with her fussing over him when she wasn’t at work. He’d just spent an entire weekend sitting still on the sofa and getting better. Now she wanted him to call in sick. He tried to hold in the cough that threatened, knowing his mother would probably turn around and take him back home. “Really.”
“If you’re sure.” She sounded skeptical. The timbre under the tires changed, and Lee knew she had pulled into the garage parking area. “If you feel bad or get tired, call me and I’ll come and get you.”
“Mom, I’m not a baby. I need to go to work, and you need to stop….”
“What? Being a mother? Worrying about you?” she countered.
“I need a little freedom. I’m blind, not helpless,” Lee said as he opened the door. “Just pick me up at the usual time. Scott and I have plenty of jobs to do.” He was so looking forward to the time with his friend. He wanted to find out how things had gone for Scott over the weekend.
He had met Scott the first time James had invited him to visit the garage five years ago. It was supposed to have been a type of therapy for him, but it had turned into so much more. He and Scott had hit it off and became not only friends, but work partners. Which was awesome because it meant he was able to work on cars again. It had been his passion before he lost his sight, and being able to do it now, by listening to the cars, had been the best stroke of luck he’d had since before he went blind.
Lee followed the familiar path to the door and pulled it open to go inside.
“Hey, Lee,” Trevor called from the office. “Scott and Brent aren’t in yet. Do you want some coffee? I just made a fresh pot.” Trevor was the best boss anyone could ask for. Well, actually, Brent was his boss, so Trevor was technically his boss’s boss, but it didn’t matter.
“Thank you,” Lee said, following Trevor’s voice inside. He sat in the chair nearest the door, and Trevor put a Styrofoam cup in his hand. Tires sounded outside, and Lee smiled, recognizing the sound of the engine. Soon Scott came in and hugged him good morning.
“Are you ready?” Scott asked, and Lee nodded. Around Scott, Lee was especially aware of visual cues. Because Lee hadn’t been born blind, he knew what they were. But over the last few years, some of them had drifted away because he didn’t think about them so much anymore. “Good, because we get to work on that Porsche, and I’ve been itching to start on it all weekend.”
Lee finished his coffee, felt for the trash can, and put the cup into it before Scott led him out onto the work floor. Lee knew his way around the garage really well and could probably get where he needed to go. But there were pits in the floor for working under the cars, so if he got a little off, he could fall. Scott usually guided him to their work area. They had the second bay in the garage, and when they arrived, Lee went to his toolbox and pulled open the top drawer. He reached inside to the place he kept his sockets and felt nothing. Lee patted the drawer, and instead of his precise tool placement, his fingers encountered a jumble of cool steel pieces. He motioned, and Scott placed a hand on his back.
“What the fuck?” Scott swore next to him. “Everything is messed up.” He pulled back his hand, and Lee listened as each drawer in the chest was opened and closed. “They all are. Shit, I’m going to kill whoever did this.” Scott turned and shouted for Brent to come over.
“What’s going on?’ Brent asked in his deep but kind of soothing voice. He must have been signing as he spoke, because Scott answered right away.
“Everything in Lee’s drawer is messed up. He needs his tools in the right place so he can find them easily.”
Lee stood to the side, his arms around his own chest. It seemed stupid, but the thought that someone had been in his things and messed everything up on purpose just about killed him. He’d probably have felt better if they’d just stolen them. That was impersonal. But messing everything up—that was close, intimate. They knew exactly what would upset him most.
Before losing his sight five years earlier, Lee had been a real slob. His mom had been forever asking him to clean his room. But once he couldn’t see, he’d learned from James that he needed to be organized and precise if he was going to be able to navigate his blindness in a sighted world.
Scott moved to stand right next to him, then hugged him tightly. “Scott, can you and Lee spend some time fixing his tools? I’m going to get the car for you and drive it into the bay. We’ll try to figure out who did this. Was the box locked?”
“Yes. I saw Lee unlock it. Someone just tipped the entire box on its side to mess it up.” He was angry and as pissed off as Lee was. “The bastards.”
“I’ll get to the bottom of it, but I don’t understand,” Brent said.
Lee didn’t either. As far as he knew, he was friends with everyone at work. All of the other guys had always been nice to him. They even helped him and offered to guide him if Scott wasn’t there. He trusted all of them. That’s what really hurt.
“Okay,” Scott said, then started opening the drawers. He set to work, the tools banging against the metal dividers as Scott set them back in place.
Lee stood out of the way and let Scott help him. He could identify his tools by their feel, but he needed them in their own places if he was going to find them easily.
“It’s okay. I’ll have them back in a few minutes. At least the socket sets are still in their cases, so all the small pieces aren’t everywhere.” Scott talked as he worked, which he always did. Lee used his running patter as a kind of roadmap to where they were and what they were doing. It was part of how they worked together. Lee communicated largely through touch. It was the only method he had with Scott, since his main method of communication was cut off because of Scott’s deafness. Lee knew they were an unlikely pair, but he was not going to allow the best friend he’d ever had to slip away over their challenges.
Lee made sure to turn toward Scott so he could read his lips. “Thanks.”
“No problem. I know you can’t work without knowing where everything is. You’re my ears, and I’m your eyes.” Scott squeezed his arm for reassurance and then closed the drawer. “Okay. You should be all set. Go ahead and make sure everything is where you need it. Brent is about to bring the Porsche in, and we can get started on this baby.”
Lee was excited too. It wasn’t often that he came in contact with a car like this. She was top of the line, turbo, very expensive, and if he’d understood right, the owner’s endless source of frustration because it just wasn’t performing correctly. He liked that not only was it a challenge, but that Brent had chosen him and Scott to work on it.
The overhead doors rose, and Scott guided him out of the way while the car was pulled in. Scott popped the engine cover in back, and Trevor left the engine running. Lee put on a pair of gloves and felt his way along the sleek front of the car and around to the back, where the engine was, listening intently as he went.
The motor purred and hummed with power—a lot of power. This car was barely street legal, and the engine exhibited that, a precise piece of German engineering.
The driver’s door opened and closed. “Do you hear anything?” Brent asked.
“I’m not sure,” Lee answered, still listening. What he was grasping for was just out of reach, barely audible to him but most definitely there. Scott stood right n
ext to him, describing what he saw. Lee leaned forward, turning his head and pointing deep into the engine.
“I’m going to climb into the pit underneath and see if I can see anything,” Scott said. But just before he walked away, Lee took his arm. “You want to go too?” He seemed surprised when Lee nodded, but Scott led him around and down to the basement area where they could get under the car. The sound was more pronounced there, and Lee pointed to its exact location. “Okay. Let’s take a look,” Scott said.
“Brent, shut off the engine,” Lee called up. Once the car grew silent, he and Scott let it cool down and got to work, now that they had a possible problem to examine.
“DAMN, THAT was good work,” Brent said a few hours later. “I’m surprised it didn’t show on the dealership’s diagnostics. But even they aren’t infallible.”
“Once we figured out what the problem was, it was pretty easy to take care of. And it was great that you could get the part so fast. Is the owner pleased?” Lee asked.
“He’s thrilled, and the Porsche dealership is pissed that we were able to clean up their mess. The car is almost seven years old, but it’s the owner’s pride and joy. The dealership was trying to tell him that having the work done somewhere else was going to void some warranty or other, but that’s complete bull. When Gene comes to pick up his car, I’ll introduce him to you both. I think you’ll get to work on his cars again.”
Lee thanked him. He was about to return to work when a voice, deep and almost sultry, beckoned his attention. He knew who it was in an instant. Trevor’s friend Dean stopped by the garage every once in a while, and Lee always tried to bump into him somehow. He didn’t know much about him other than what Scott had told him, and what else he’d heard, mostly from Brent, so it was thirdhand. Lee discounted most of it anyway. Dean was somewhat older than him, but Lee didn’t really care about that. In the last five years, he felt like he’d aged half a lifetime. He’d had to relearn so many things, and it was becoming hard to remember what his life had been like preblindness.
“Trevor,” Lee said as he felt his way around. Sometimes he lost his bearings, but it was happening less and less. Scott had stepped away for a few minutes, and now he was alone.
“Hey, Lee, you’re just outside the office. Take two steps forward and you’ll be at the doorway,” Trevor said, and Lee did just that, stepping inside and inhaling a new, fresh scent. God, he really liked it, and took another whiff, trying not to seem as though he was scenting the air like a dog. But damn, it smelled good.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting,” Lee said.
“No problem,” Dean said in a slightly shaky voice. “Trevor and I were just finishing up our conversation.” He seemed happy, which was awesome, because Dean’s voice carried a wonderful warm lift when he was happy and presumably smiling.
“I understand there was some trouble today,” Trevor commented.
“Yeah. Someone tipped my toolbox so everything was out of place.” He wanted to believe it could have been an accident, but there had been too many things like that happening lately. Sometimes he knew that things had been moved on him, or they simply disappeared. Lee could tell exactly where each tool was in his box, and he always, always put them back where they went so he could find them again. And yet his things were being misplaced or moved almost regularly. “It’s happened before, but I don’t know who’s behind it. Scott would never do it.” That he was certain of.
“What the hell?” Dean asked. “Someone messed up your tools so you couldn’t find anything? What kind of dick would do that?”
“Brent was just as upset,” Lee said. “We haven’t had issues like that before.” Lee suddenly felt shy. “I’m not sure, but… sometimes, I feel like my things are being moved on purpose. I know Scott would never mess with my stuff. I trust him with everything, and….” He sniffed and rubbed his nose. “I just don’t get it.”
“I don’t want you to worry. I’ll watch and so will Brent. He isn’t going to let something like this go. You need to feel comfortable and safe here, and I will not allow someone to take that away from you,” Trevor explained and took his hands.
“I’ve seen the way you work, and it’s impressive,” Dean said, and that made Lee smile. “Your work on the Porsche was something else.”
He grew quiet, and Lee wondered if he and Trevor were sharing looks or something. Lee had come to learn just how much communication was visual, and he hated when people passed expressions he couldn’t see. But what the fuck was he going to do about it?
“I should get back to work.” Lee turned to leave, making sure he had his bearings, and stepped outside the door, where Scott must have been waiting for him.
“Lee,” Scott said. “Are you ready?” Lee nodded, and Scott went ahead of him as they made their way back to their bay. “I’m going to bring in a Cadillac and then we’ll get started.”
Scott left, and Lee stood next to his toolbox, waiting for the familiar raising of the overhead doors, and then the sound of a misfiring engine drew closer. He waited for Scott, and the two of them got to work.
LEE AND Scott were done with the Cadillac. Scott was just moving the car out of the bay when a hand touched Lee’s shoulder. Lee tensed until he smelled Dean. “You two do amazing work.”
“I hear the problems, and he sees them. I know my way around most engines, and he guides me. I wouldn’t be able to do this job without him.” Lee was well aware that Scott would be a great mechanic whether he was there or not. He was grateful that Scott worked with him, and he hoped he was helping Scott more than he was slowing him down.
“Trevor and I have come to an agreement. I’ve been restoring cars for the last decade out of my home garage, but I can’t keep my head above water. So he and I are going to partner together.”
“Down at the old Sears place? Trevor has been looking into that lately, and he always seems to be able to find the right fit for his ideas.”
“Yeah, exactly. And he said you and Scott might be interested in working with me. I do a lot of the body work—that’s my specialty—but I need experienced people to rebuild the engines and things like that. I can do it, but I’m better at other parts of the process.”
“I can talk with Brent and Scott.” Lee was excited about the possibilities. He’d heard one of the guys mention that Dean had just come across a Cobra he intended to restore. Lee’s hands itched to spend some time with that engine.
“Please do that. We’d all be working for Trevor, so things wouldn’t really be that different. But you’d have the chance to work on classic cars for a change, bringing them back from the dead.” Excitement filled Dean’s voice, and it was catching.
Lee nodded as his nose filled with the richness of Dean’s scent, even over the garage’s exhaust fumes and grease. “Okay. I’ll think about it,” Lee said, wishing he had more questions, if only so he could get Dean to stay and talk with him a little while longer.
“Ready for the last one of the day?” Scott asked, walking up to him. Lee nodded, and the two of them went to do a simple tune-up on a Nissan.
“What did Dean want?” Scott asked as they worked, both of them leaning over the side of the car.
Lee set the socket set down next to him and slowly made some of the signs that Scott had taught him. It was really difficult and he often wondered if he was making them right, but most of the time Scott was able to figure out what he was trying to say. In this case, Lee paused in his work to use the computer to type out his message. “Trevor is bringing him in to do restoration work at the old Sears garage. Dean asked if we wanted to work with him.”
“Do you really want to?” Scott asked.
“I told him I’d ask you what you thought. I like working here, and I won’t go without you, but….” Lee shifted closer, his shoulder touching Scott’s as he typed. “He has a Cobra. Can you imagine getting to rebuild that engine? You know we could do it. What an opportunity that would be.” He practically shook, not telling Scott that part of th
e reason he wanted to do this was so he could be closer to Dean.
James had told him a few times that, according to Trevor, Dean sometimes watched him. Lee liked that idea—guys weren’t exactly rushing up to date the blind man. Lee knew he shouldn’t feel that way, but it was hard not to. Still, James was his hero, and he and Trevor were as happy as Lee hoped he could be someday.
“Is it just the Cobra?” Scott said. “I see the way you follow him when he’s around. You can practically track the guy like a bloodhound, and he looks at you as if you’re a four-course meal and he’s starving.” Scott bumped his shoulder. “If you want to give it a try, I say we go for it, if Brent is okay with it.” Scott set down his tool with a jingle of metal. “But no matter what you might think about the guy, you need to know that he has a real reputation as a player. At least, he did.”
Lee had never heard anything about that, but then again, a lot of the guys grew quiet when he was around them. It was strange, because he was nice to everyone, but they seemed to treat him as though he was different. And yeah, he was, but still, it sucked. Lee turned to Scott and shrugged.
“You didn’t know?” Scott asked, and Lee shook his head. “Brent told me that he likes to go to the clubs downtown and that he brings home a lot of different guys.” Scott patted his hand. “I’m not telling you not to be interested in him, but be careful, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Lee nodded, his thoughts racing. He’d liked the sound of Dean’s voice, and Dean had always seemed nice, but that was all Lee knew about him. Maybe he should ask James. He’d tell him the truth.
“I’m sorry,” Scott said, and hugged him. “I wish I didn’t have to tell you things like that, but you needed to know. I’m not saying he’ll treat you badly, but Brent told me that he’s been on the prowl a lot lately, spending more time downtown in the bars than he is at home.”
