by Cora Brent
“Nope,” the other kid snapped, clutching what looked like a small action figure.
“You promised I could play with it for the rest of today because I let you bring my Battle Bot to school yesterday.”
“Today is over.”
“It is NOT!”
“Boys,” warned their mother in a weary tone. “No fighting. Remember, Santa’s watching.”
The two of them looked around uneasily, as if Santa himself might pop out from beneath the front desk. They were around seven years old, possibly twins, with the same tousled black hair and wide brown eyes.
The boy holding the action figure suddenly held it out to his brother. “Here,” he said generously. “You can hold onto him until dinner time.”
“All right,” the first boy agreed but then he just let the toy hang limply from his left hand.
I grabbed two yellow legal pads and a few colored Sharpies from a desk drawer and approached the boys.
“Guess what?” I said. “I’m making a run to the post office later so if you guys want to write out a last minute letter to Santa I’ll make sure it gets there.”
The boys eyed me skeptically for a moment. Then they turned to their mother, who nodded with a smile.
“You’ll put a stamp on it and everything?” asked the boy who was now holding the coveted action figure. He tentatively reached for the markers.
“And everything,” I promised.
The boys got to work immediately, settling down on a small throw rug that featured a gingerbread family, another one of Evie’s holiday touches. I smiled, thinking briefly of being a kid anxiously awaiting the wonder of Christmas morning. This season belonged to kids.
Since I didn’t want to be the creepy dude hanging around and staring at everyone I retreated to the back to continue with my never-ending inventory count. On the way I noticed a crumpled water bottle lying in a corner. Conway must have carelessly dropped it there. I shook my head ruefully and swiped it off the floor, remembering how Conway’s habitual messiness used to drive me bonkers when we were kids and shared the same small bedroom.
I glanced over at Con and saw he’d jacked up the woman’s car so he could examine the tire more carefully. A few pieces of trash here and there weren’t a big deal in the scheme of things so I wouldn’t harass him right now. Besides, the poor guy was obviously being driven to distraction waiting for his wife to go into labor. I’d already told him to go home and be with Roslyn since we weren’t apt to get much business today but he shook his head, saying he’d just hover over Roslyn until he made her nervous.
“All fixed,” he told the woman about twenty minutes later. “No damage to the wheel and the puncture was a short, straight nail so I got the hole plugged up and refilled the tire.”
“That’s great,” the woman said. The she gave a short laugh. “I could hardly afford a new tire right now. An unpleasant side effect of the holiday season is a fairly empty wallet. Anyway, what’s the charge for the repair?”
I saw Con glance at the two boys as they labored over their Santa lists. He looked back at me and I gave him a slight nod.
“On the house,” he said. “Just do us a favor and spread the word that we’re here and open for business.”
“That’s very nice. Thank you. And I will. I live nearby and our neighborhood has a community Facebook page. I’d be happy to recommend you.”
“Where’s that other guy?” one of the boys asked. “The one who mails letters to Santa.”
“I’m here,” I called, returning to the front. “I’ve got envelopes in the desk so if you guys want to give me your letters I’ll make sure they get addressed and mailed today.”
“Is there enough time for Santa to get them?”
“Of course. There’s magic in the air this time of year, didn’t you know?”
The boys grinned and handed their carefully lettered papers over. Conway and I waved as the mother and sons walked out together.
“They were cute,” Con commented.
“Yup.”
“Remind you of us?”
“A little.”
He frowned. “You ever think of Mom?” he asked quietly.
“I try not to.”
He nodded. “Yeah, me either. I’m gonna pull the old Chevy back in.”
“Did it run all right when you took it out?”
“Still needs a lot of work but yeah.”
“Hey,” I called because he was already opening up the garage bay once more. Normally we kept it open all day long but the weather was too cold right now so we kept it closed. “What are your thoughts on closing early today?”
Con looked doubtful. “How early?”
“Two o’clock maybe. And we talked last week about staying closed on Christmas Eve in addition to Christmas Day.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he mumbled and rolled up the garage door. The rain had stopped completely but the day was still gray and cold. I watched Con walk out with his shoulders hunched and his head down. I wondered if he was kind of bummed over the mention of our mother. Neither of us had seen or heard from her in years. The ugly truth was she just didn’t want to be our mother anymore. Maybe she never had. After all, I was conceived out of an affair she had with Chrome Gentry, her husband’s cousin. But once I was born, Chrome didn’t drop everything and go running to her like she thought he would. So she screwed around with his brother Benton out of spite. Conway came along nine months later. Deck was Chrome’s son while the triplets – Creed, Cord and Chase – were the children of Benton Gentry. None of this was known to us when we were growing up though.
Since it seemed like a good time to squeeze some training in, I joined Con in the back and he pointed out the details of the work he’d done on the Chevy so far. The car had come to him in pretty poor shape but he’d found the resources to replace the engine as well as complete the necessary work under the hood to get it running fairly smoothly. The interior was in rather sorry shape, the rear seats torn to ribbons, but the hardest job would be tackling the body since original replacement parts would be tough to come by. Con said he expected the work would probably take several years, which was fine with him since he was enjoying the process and it would give him time to save up the cash needed to invest in parts. I always got a kick out of watching my brother in his element. He’d started working on cars when he was a teenager and from the beginning seemed to have a natural gift for it.
We were going over the old car for so long I lost track of time. It was half past noon when the front door swung wide open, ushering in an unexpected blast of cold air.
Cold air…and Deck Gentry.
“Ho, ho, ho!” he called, his little girl Isabella perched on his hip and wrapped snugly in his right arm.
My smile was immediate as I came out to greet the two of them. Deck had been one of my favorite people in the world even before I found out he was my half brother.
“You didn’t mention you were stopping by today,” I said.
“Well, Izzy and I were out doing some shopping and figured we’d drop in to say hello.”
The little girl peeked out at me from the comfort of her father’s embrace. She looked so much like Jenny, the feisty redhead who was likely the only woman on the planet capable of domesticating the rowdy Deck.
“Hi, Izzy,” I gently greeted my shy little niece.
“Hi,” she whispered and then buried her face in her father’s neck.
I tried again. “Aunt Evie can’t wait to give you your Christmas present.”
That sparked her interest. Isabella raised her head and gazed at me with wide eyes. “What is it?” she asked.
I smiled. “You’ll have to wait until Christmas Eve to find out.”
She screwed up her face into the cutest version of a frown I ever saw. “That’s not today,” she complained.
“It’s tomorrow.” The plan was to exchange gifts at Cord’s party. “Just one more day until Christmas Eve.”
Izzy brightened and broke into a dimpled grin
. “We bought presents for Mommy. Presents for Christmas.”
“You did?”
She nodded. “They were all shiny and stuff.”
“Shiny huh?”
Deck set the girl down in the nearest chair. “We took a trip to the mall and visited the jewelry store,” Deck explained. “But you need to remember Miss Izzy that it’s a secret, all right? We don’t want to ruin the surprise for Mommy.” He squinted as a shadow approached. “Ah, there you are, Conway. God, you look like you haven’t slept in days. And someone ought to be kind enough to tell you that there’s a big streak of motor oil on your forehead.”
Con rubbed at his head and gave Deck a rueful grin. “What would we do without you, Deck?”
“I don’t even want to think about it. So what’s the word on baby watch?”
“Still watching. And still waiting.”
“I hear that.” Deck glanced down tenderly at Isabella. The child was cradling a stuffed kitten in her arms. “I remember that feeling,” he said. “You know, every time Jenny sighed I’d jump three feet in the air because I was sure it was the first contraction. By the time the real event happened I was pretty damn exhausted.”
“Good thing Jenny had to do all the work then,” I commented.
“Yeah,” he agreed, still staring with adoration down at his daughter. There was something particularly stirring about seeing a rough and tough character like Deck utterly humbled in the presence of a small child.
Deck said he and Isabella couldn’t stay long. We chatted for a few minutes about plans for some local advertising after the new year. Deck mentioned he had a few ideas and was even going to have a sales executive buddy of his stop by to give us a PR tutorial. Deck had friends in all walks of life and they all seemed to owe him a favor or two.
“Hey Con,” he said suddenly, “I ought to warn you that there are plans afoot.”
Conway raised an eyebrow. “What kind of plans?”
“The kind with flowers and dresses and the lot of us wrapped up in penguin suits. The Gentry women are conspiring, you see. It seems they feel a little cheated that you and Roslyn snuck off for a quickie wedding. They are determined to remedy the situation by planning a full blown cake and confetti celebration for you guys within the next few months, whether you want it or not.”
The rest of the family had been teasing about throwing Conway and Roslyn an old fashioned spectacular wedding ever since the news broke that they’d gotten married in city hall. I understood why they’d chosen that route; when it happened a few months back Roslyn was already heavily pregnant. Moreover, Evie and I were about to celebrate our own wedding and Conway admitted that they felt reluctant to steal our thunder. They shouldn’t have worried about that but I respected their preference for a private ceremony. The rest of the Gentry family, however, had other ideas.
“That sounds nice,” Conway said but he seemed distracted.
“Daddy?” Isabella piped up. She’d left her chair and was now tugging on her father’s leather jacket.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
She held up her stuffed animal. “Piggy says he’s hungry.”
I stifled a laugh. “Your cat’s name is Piggy?”
She nodded. “Yup.”
Deck picked her up. “Hey Piggy, can you tell me if Izzy is hungry too?” He held the toy up to his ear and pretended to listen. “Okay, well how about we all go out and get some hamburgers for lunch?’” He nodded in my direction. Conway had already wandered toward the back of the garage. “Why don’t you guys close up shop for a little while and join us?”
The offer sounded good to me. I’d already created lists and more lists of inventory and there wasn’t much chance we’d get a rush of business this afternoon. “Con?” I called. “What do you say? Deck, Izzy and Piggy the kitten want to have lunch with us.”
Conway had been peering under the hood of the Chevy. He lifted his head, thought about it but then shook his head. He looked tired. “You go ahead and go, Stone. Think I’ll stick around here just in case something comes up.”
“Thanks for the offer,” I told Deck, “but I’ve got a few things I should take care of.”
“Okay,” Deck said but I saw him glance curiously at Conway as he dipped his head back under the hood. Deck gave me a look and a quick jerk of the head, indicating that I ought to follow him to his car.
Deck still owned the gleaming Harley he used to ride up and down Main Street in my earliest memories. These days he only rode it now and then. The rest of the time it was stowed in the depths of his garage while he commanded the wheel of a silver minivan and managed somehow to look like a badass anyway.
I waited while Deck buckled his daughter into her car seat. He kissed Izzy on the forehead and then ducked out. His dark eyes appraised me seriously for a long moment and I wondered what was up.
“Everything going all right here, Stone?” he asked.
The question surprised me. “Yeah, everything’s great. It’s all a little slow right now but we’re looking ahead to gaining some traction after the holidays.”
Deck nodded. “Getting off the ground is always a lot of work but don’t sweat it. It’s a good location and even I don’t know as much about cars as Conway.”
“Few people do.”
He looked over my shoulder at the Brothers Gentry sign. “And Con’s holding up okay?”
He asked the question casually but I thought I detected some tension behind it. I started to get a weird feeling, especially because I’d noted the flash of anxiety on my brother’s face when I found him here early this morning. I’d never questioned Con in much detail about some of the shit he used to be into. Part of me didn’t want to confirm my worst suspicions. It was enough to know that he was finally done with it all. But Deck was kind of like a great oracle. If he was asking questions then he might already suspect something. Still, I had no reason to deny Conway the benefit of the doubt. As far as I could tell he was doing everything right these days.
“Con’s just a little on edge at the moment,” I told Deck. “You know, lots of changes, the biggest one happening any moment now.”
Deck looked relieved. He grinned. “Right. Well, let me go get this princess some lunch.” He pointed at me. “I expect to be seeing you all at Cord’s tomorrow night.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Deck and I fist bumped and then I stuck my head into the minivan. “Bye Isabella. And goodbye Piggy.”
Izzy held up the paw of her stuffed kitten and bent it into a wave. “Buh-bye Uncle Stone.”
I watched until Deck’s taillights disappeared. Then I made a decision.
“Let’s go,” I said to Conway three seconds after I ran back into the garage.
He had motor oil on his forehead again. “Huh? Go where?”
“We’re closing up shop until after Christmas.”
“Since when?”
“Since right now. There’s nothing happening here, the forecasts are promising a big freeze tomorrow and you’re ready to crack while waiting for this baby to show up so let’s just make a plan to shut the doors for a few days. We’ll regroup on the other side.”
He thought about it for a few seconds then suddenly dropped his wrench into the nearest toolbox and shut the hood of the car. “All right, Stone. If you think it’s a good idea.”
I hastily printed out a sign to tack on the door: “Sorry we missed you. Brothers Gentry Garage will reopen on December 26th. Merry Christmas.”
Conway decided to pull the tarp over his Chevy project and leave it in the garage so I gave him a ride. We stopped at a nearby Burger King for lunch and I watched Conway carefully. Aside from continuing to check his phone every thirty seconds, nothing about him seemed disturbing and I felt like kind of a dick for my earlier flicker of doubt. When Conway married Roslyn he’d cut all ties with his old life. If there was anything to worry about I was sure he’d feel comfortable mentioning it to me.
“You know,” Conway said when were back in my truck and heading for home,
“considering how uptight your are about sweeping every speck of dust off the garage floor and ironing your stupid cotton t-shirts it’s kind of a shock that you never manage to clean out your damn truck.”
I glared. “Gimme a break. It rained this morning. You trying to tell me you have your car all spanking clean an hour after it gets poured on?”
“I was referring to the interior.”
“Well, that’s your coffee cup on the floor, bro. Your fucking gum wrapper in the cup holder.”
Con smirked and ran a finger over the dashboard, where he obnoxiously wrote “Gentry” in the layer of dust.
“Okay wiseass,” I grumbled. “Quit busting my balls.”
Conway laughed. “If I didn’t then who would?”
My hands were on the wheel so I couldn’t very well grab him in a headlock to show him who was boss. Conway was scrappy and strong but I was sure I could subdue him if I wanted to. But hey, we were adults now anyway. Shoving and head-butting one another were probably activities best left in the dustbin of history.
“What did you get Roslyn for Christmas?” I asked, deciding to be the mature one and change the subject.
He didn’t answer right away and I was on the verge of repeating the question when he finally spoke up. “We had agreed to keep the holiday simple for each other since we expect to be busy enough,” he said. “But one day I was hanging around the mall, waiting as Roslyn shopped for maternity clothes or something and I found myself in one of those greeting card stores where they sell shit like initialed jewelry boxes and dog-shaped crystals. I don’t know what I was doing in there but as I wandering around I came across these journals for new parents, the kind where you answer questions about your first memories and your family and the things you want to teach your child. So I bought one and filled it all in over the last few weeks. The baby won’t get anything out of it for a while of course but I’m giving it to Roslyn to read and to keep until our child is old enough. I also bought an empty one for her so she can do the same.”
The short story was so sweet and full of love that I got a little choked up. Conway hadn’t had an easy life and he’d danced with devils for such a long time I got used to being afraid for him. But when we were growing up he’d always been the more sensitive one by nature. I was always happy to find out that was still the case.
