by Long, Marie
“What about Frank? I’ll kick his ass, too, and not look back if he fires me afterward.”
I gawk at him. “You’d risk your job?”
“I won’t work for any asshole who mistreats women,” he says flatly.
My smile returns. Larry’s one of the few people in my life who can make me genuinely smile. “Hey, Larry, why don’t you join me tonight for some drinks at Chauncey’s?” I ask, removing the last remaining bolts.
Larry whips the towel from around his neck and slings it over his shoulder. “Sorry, kid. I gotta work. These cars won’t fix themselves.”
“Take a break, man.”
“Can’t afford to take a break. Not when there’s so much to do—especially now that William’s gone.”
I meet his eyes briefly, then shift my attention back to the timing chain cover, which I remove and set aside. “You’re a workaholic, Larry, but you’re also human. Even you need a break sometime. Just take one night off. That’s all I ask. If Frank gives you any flack, well, then blame me.”
“I’m the senior employee. If I slack off, we’ll have an even longer backlog of work to do—more than what just the four of us can deal with.”
“But it’s only a few hours tonight. That’s all. Not like you’re taking the whole day off. What’re a few hours going to hurt?”
He sighs and grumbles under his breath. “I’ll think about it. Now finish changing that damn chain.”
I remove the filthy, damaged chain from the gears and set it aside. Larry hands me a new chain, and I meticulously line it up in the gears. My dirt-smeared hands start to sweat from focusing so hard.
It feels like it’s taken hours when I finally finish aligning the chain properly, matching up the timing notches. I lift up from the hood and sigh, my fingers cramped and hurting from handling the small parts.
Larry tosses me the towel. I take it and wipe my hands. The more I notice the way he looks out for me, the more I think he knows when something’s up. I should tell him. He has a right to know, putting up with me for this long. Being concerned about me when he doesn’t need to be. I’ll tell him, but not here.
“Hey, Larry, it would really mean a lot to me if you joined me for a drink. It would just be my way of saying thanks for always having my back. You’ve been a good friend.” And I wish you could’ve been my father instead.
Larry turns back to the hood, staring idly at the stripped engine. “Nothing special about me, kid.”
“Whatever, man. Sometimes I wish you were my father.” I freeze. Oh shit. Did I just say that aloud?
With an eyebrow arched, he stares. “What?”
I purse my lips. Damn it. He knows. I guess I have no choice now. But not here. “Nothing, man. I’m sorry. That was way outta line.”
“No shit. You have a father.”
That statement hurts. If only he knew. “Trust me, Larry. You are a much better father than that sick son of a bitch could ever have been.” I clench my jaw. I don’t want to talk about it here.
Larry sighs. “Look, I’m gonna finish those ball joints. Thanks for the help here. Now go give Nate and Paul a hand outside, eh?” He thumbs over his shoulder.
Pursing my lips, I step back from the truck and watch as Larry pushes the button on the wall again and lifts the truck high off the ground. He remains silent, and I head out the open bay door.
“I’ll see you tonight,” Larry says.
Chapter 24
God must really be in a good mood, because today just keeps getting better. I can’t believe I’m actually going to manage to drag Larry to Chauncey’s for the first time in … well, since I first started working at the shop.
Refreshed after a long shower, I step out the bathroom, steam billowing out into the hall. Chris went over to Adrienne’s tonight, so I have the place to myself. With a towel wrapped around my waist, I head upstairs. My phone is on the bed, the green notification light blinking.
It’s a missed call—from Denise.
Shit! I redial her number, hoping and praying that she answers.
“Hello?”
I plop down on the bed, consumed by her beautiful voice. “Hey. Sorry I missed your call before. I was in the shower.”
“It’s okay. You’re not in trouble. This time.”
I suppress a grin. “Oh yeah? Well I don’t mind being in trouble with you.”
She chuckles. “You’re crazy.”
“So whatcha doing tonight?”
“Lauren and I are just leaving the movies. I think we’re going to get some food next.”
“That’s good. I hope you’re having fun.”
“I am.” She pauses. “I gotta go now. Lauren says hi.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Really?”
She laughs. “Yeah. She doesn’t think you’re such a deadbeat anymore.”
I laugh at that.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Bye, Dominick. I love you.”
Those three words uttered from her lips send a wave of happiness all the way to my groin. “I love you too, Denise.” I leave it at that.
She hangs up first, and I sigh, missing her already.
My phone rings again and Larry’s number appears on the screen. Larry? I have to do a double take. He almost never calls me. He better not be canceling tonight. I answer it with a frown. “’Sup, Larry?”
“Hey. You still home?” Larry asks, his voice gruff. He sounds like he’s driving.
“Yeah. ’Bout to head out in a few.”
“Give me about … ” Larry’s quiet for a moment, then says, “five minutes.” Click.
I stare at the screen. The hell? I hold it back to my ear. “Hello? Larry?”
Silence.
Is he coming over? Larry has only come over once, and that was last year to give me my wallet that I’d left at work that day. I quickly dress in a black and yellow hoodie over a gray T-shirt, a pair of faded, loose-fitting jeans, and black sports shoes. I race down the stairs to the living room and peek out the blinds. The streets are dark and empty.
Maybe I just misunderstood what he said. He can be weird like that sometimes. I grab my keys and helmet from the kitchen and head out the back door. As I’m walking my bike out from around the side of the duplex, I hear the low rumble of a truck approaching. A pair of headlights shine in the street. I swallow. Larry? I hustle to the front and see Larry’s blue and white pickup truck parked at the curb. I stand there in the walkway, open-mouthed, my helmet in one hand, my keys in the other.
Holy shit.
The passenger-side window lowers, and Larry peers at me. “Didn’t I tell you to give me five minutes?” he calls.
I smile. “Sorry, guess I misunderstood.”
“Whatever, boy. Get your ass in this truck.”
I gesture for him to hold on and put my bike and helmet away. Afterward, I hustle to the truck and hop in. Larry’s dressed pretty sharp, like he’s ready to have some fun at a club. I almost don’t recognize him. I’ve never seen him dressed in anything other than jeans and his blue work shirt that’s always smeared with oil and dirt by the end of the day.
“Damn, well, this is a surprise,” I say, buckling up.
“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.” He sounds so serious when he says that, it makes me laugh.
As usual for this time on a Monday night, the streets aren’t very busy, and we make it to the interstate in mere minutes.
“Thanks again for doing this with me, man,” I say. “It really means a lot.”
“Eh.”
I chuckle. “You’ll thank me that you took some time off for yourself for a change.”
“I already take enough time off for myself to eat, sleep, and shit. I’m considering this as doing a favor for a friend.”
“And I’m considering this a sign of the fucking apocalypse. I actually managed to get your ass out of the shop.”
He looks over at me, amusement in his eyes, says nothing, and returns his attention to the road.
We pull up to Ch
auncey’s, which is crowded as usual, no matter what day it is. We head inside and find two seats at the bar. Ironically, these are the same seats that Kevin and I sat in last time. A guy is working the bar tonight instead of Olivia. He looks new. A group of guys are playing darts nearby, and a mixed crowd is gathered at the foosball table in the back.
“I’m buyin’,” I say, reaching in my back pocket for my wallet.
Larry puts his hand on my shoulder, and I freeze. “No. I’m buyin’.”
I blink. “C’mon, man. You drove. I’ll buy.”
He gives me one of those hard stares. The kind a parent gives a kid when they’re acting up. The kind that says, “if you argue with me, I’ll knock the shit out of you.” And coming from Larry, I’ve no doubt he’d smash me open with one of those steel fists of his. Swallowing, I hold my hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, you’re buyin’.”
He orders some beer on tap. I get my usual.
“I didn’t just come here to do a favor for a friend, you know,” Larry says, tipping back his drink.
I stop in mid-swig and look over the glass at him.
“Thought it might be a good time to talk,” he says. “Get whatever’s on your mind out.”
I lower the glass and stare at the bobbing ice cubes inside. “She’s the only thing on my mind right now,” I say, just loud enough for him to hear. “Nothing else matters.”
“Why didn’t you do something with her tonight, then?”
“She had some stuff to do with her friend.”
“So you’re stuck with me, eh?” He looks amused and takes another gulp.
“I do worry about her. All the time. I know what it’s like to—” I bite off my words. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be rambling about that.”
“Rambling about what? Out with it, kid.”
I purse my lips. I never really told Larry about my past, and I’m not sure why. I can trust him, like Kevin. I down the rest of my drink.
“Well?” He gives me that look again, and it makes me cringe. I bet he was a great parent, keeping his kids in line with that look alone.
I rub the back of my neck. “It’s not easy to say.”
He finishes his beer and then shifts on his stool, one elbow resting on the counter. He looks at me and lowers his voice. “I’m listening.”
I pause as I try to find the right words. “What almost happened to Denise”—I close my eyes—“actually happened to me.
Even over all the noise in the bar, I can hear him hiss. My skin tingles with goose bumps from his tension. I open my eyes and stare at him. Sadly. The way he looks back at me is genuine concern. Pity. Guilt.
Leaning his head closer to mine, he mutters, “You were raped?”
I look back at the melting ice in my drink and give him the slightest of nods. “By my father.”
He leans back on his stool and sighs then turns back to the bar and orders another beer. He seems to be thinking hard on something. Perhaps wondering how to respond to something like that. But no response is required. It is what it is. Clenching my jaw, I signal to the bartender for a refill, as well. A mug and a glass slide our way, and I don’t hesitate to bring my drink to my lips.
“Sorry to hear that, kid,” he says. “I really am.”
My eyes burn, and I know it’s not from the rum. “I’m dealing with it,” I say, holding back my tears. “The memory’s still there, of course.”
“It’ll always be there, unfortunately.” His grip tightens around the mug’s handle, and his knuckles whiten. “Where’s your father now?”
The way he asks that, I think he’s going to hunt him down and kill him. I wish he had. I wish he could. “He’s dead. Committed suicide before the cops could arrest him, the coward.” I try to laugh it off. “God, I have such a fucked up life.” I gulp down the rum-infused Coke, and chew on an ice cube afterward.
“No,” Larry says, placing his hand on my shoulder. His touch—his voice—soothes my emotions. Kind of like what hearing Denise’s voice did to me that night at the party. “You have a better life without him around. If there’s one thing I believe in, that’s destiny. Things happen for a reason, even the darkest things. Maybe experiencing that dark point in your life was needed for you to save another’s—like Denise.”
What? I narrow my eyes and shrug off his hand. “Are you shitting me, Larry? You’re saying that I should have gotten raped?” I say that a little louder than I should, but luckily no one around us seems to be paying attention to our conversation.
Larry shakes his head. “No! Of course not. No one deserves that.”
I sigh and lower my head.
Larry orders his third beer. “You know the saying ‘love conquers all’?”
“What about it?”
“That was my motto when I used to box. Still is. Everyone fights for what they believe in. Everyone fights for what they love the most, no matter how bad it gets. You’re in a dark tunnel right now, Dominick. Been stuck in that dark tunnel for a while. But you can’t give up what you believe in, what you love. Because what you love the most will be waiting for you at the end of that tunnel.”
Speechless, I lean my elbows on the countertop and rub my hands over my face. I think I’m having déjà vu here. That’s pretty much what Uncle Adam told me. The rum burns my stomach. I’m already feeling a buzz after three drinks. God, I’m such a lightweight compared to Kevin.
“You okay?” Larry asks.
I rub my eyes, nodding. “Yeah, man. I’m good. Just thinking.”
Larry nurses his beer. “If I could’ve adopted you as my son after that shit happened, I totally would have.”
I blink, my buzz suddenly going away. Is he for real? I would have taken him in a heartbeat if only to get back some sliver of the childhood that had been ripped from me. “That’s deep, man,” I finally say, running my finger around the brim of my ice-filled glass. “You’ve always been like a father to me, since I met you.”
Larry pauses in mid-gulp and looks sidelong at me.
“Besides Kevin, and maybe my uncle, you’re the only man I’ve ever looked up to.”
A hint of a smile appears on his lips. “Jesus Christ, Dominick. Does it matter whether or not you call me ‘Dad’? I’m still the same person either way.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Man, your kids are lucky to have someone like you.”
He guffaws. “What kids?”
I blink. “Oh, sorry. I just assumed you had kids.”
He finishes his beer, then sets the empty mug on the counter. “Nope. And no family, either, though I was once told I had an aunt somewhere in Philadelphia.”
“No family? You mean you’ve lived alone your whole life?”
“I was left abandoned outside a hospital not long after I was born. Went through the system and all that. I was glad when I was finally old enough to get out on my own.”
Who the fuck wouldn’t have wanted to adopt someone like Larry? I bet he was probably the best kid a family could ever ask for. Why do good people always have to be shitted on? “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
Larry scowls. “Those agencies were a joke. Felt like a puppy in a pet shop. I hated it. Anyway.” He looks at me. “You’re not alone, Dominick. You ever need anything, I got your back.”
And just like that, my anger ebbs. Larry’s such a good man. He needs more friends. Maybe even a girlfriend or wife. A family. All these years, he’s been alone. Fixing cars or doing whatever he does. Hopefully, he at least knows how much I appreciate him.
Larry slaps down some money on the counter and stands. “It’s getting late. And as much as I’d like to stay here and drink some more, I have work to do back at the shop.”
Sighing, I stand as well. I guess good things don’t last forever. “All right. Well, I’m glad you came here with me.”
“No problem.” He reaches in his back pocket for his keys. Then his body suddenly goes still. He stands there, hand stuffed in his back pocket, staring toward the entrance.
&
nbsp; His surprised expression confuses me, so I nudge him in the arm. “You okay? Need me to drive tonight?”
“Fuck no,” he says in a long, drawn-out whisper.
I scrunch my face and follow his gaze. I freeze as well.
It’s Lauren.
And Denise.
Chapter 25
The two women make their way to a vacant table. My jaw drops at the sight of Denise. She looks like she just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Her hair’s done up in a new cornrowed design in the front and falls away in a thick, curly, twist-out ponytail in the back, secured with a yellow ribbon. She wears a black-and-white-striped tank top under a yellow short jacket and denim capri pants. Her open-toed platform shoes reveal yellow painted toenails.
Lauren’s dressed just as stylishly in a red halter top and black, loose-fitting pants, making her look twenty years younger. Around her neck hangs a ruby red gem. Both arms are decorated in an array of wristlets and bangles. The makeup on her face is done just right, and her dreadlocks are tied back in a ponytail.
I exhale, taking them both in. Holy shit. Is this girls’ night out, or are they trying to snag dates? I cringe at the thought.
I go to nudge Larry, but he’s not there. He’s headed to their table. I chase after him.
Lauren whispers something to Denise and then rises from her chair, but Larry closes in on her. I swoop in behind him to Denise. The two women look at us with a start.
“Dominick?” Denise says, eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”
I plant a kiss on her cheek. Unlike Lauren, she’s wearing no makeup other than that peach lip gloss, just the way I like it. “I should be asking you that. I thought you two were getting food?”
Denise shows off that contagious smile of hers. “We did, and then Lauren wanted to get a drink afterward.” She looks to her roommate, and I follow her gaze. Lauren and Larry practically ogle each other.
I smirk. “Hey, Larry, don’t you have some work to do at the shop?
Larry cuts his eyes to me. “I think I have a little time to spare.”
“Shop?” Lauren asks, penciled eyebrows raised.
“He’s a mechanic, too. But don’t worry, he doesn’t have a motorcycle,” I say.
