Long Haul- The Complete Series Bundle

by Harper Logan

  “Chandler, you’ve hardly told me jack about your life. I know you were in the army for a while, and April’s mother was an addict. That’s about it.”

  “Well, I was a mechanic before. I guess that’s what I’d want to do. That’s what I’m good at, at least.”

  “No work for a mechanic in Everetteville?”

  “Nope.”

  “I always wanted to be singer,” she said. “I’ve been trying to convince them to let me sing at the bar, but I guess they think I’ll scare customers away. So, you’re good with cars, huh?”

  He thought about Adrian again, and about his proposal. Yeah, he was good, but not as good as Adrian was.

  “I’m alright.”

  “Something tells me you’re a lot better than just ‘alright’, Chandler,” she said. “You know, my car has been acting real strange lately. It’s been making all sorts of weird noises when I turn it on.”

  “Have you taken it anywhere?”

  “Not yet. Maybe you could look at it for me? Just a quick look, to see if you can tell what’s the matter with it. It’s right out front.”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said. “I owe you for the delicious dinner you cooked.”

  “That was my pleasure, but I’ll take it.”

  Lexie popped her head into Isabelle’s room and told the two girls that they would be right outside for a short while. Then she went out, and Chandler followed behind.

  “This is it,” she said, patting the hood of a beat-up Ford Taurus. Chandler got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. It puttered to life, and immediately the tachometer started to jump as the engine surged and knocked.

  “Do you know what’s wrong with it?” she asked.

  “Let me check under the hood.”

  “Okay.”

  He popped the hood, and used his cell phone as a flashlight to see if the problem was anything obvious. The hoses were old, but looked fine. Maybe one of the seals was broken…

  He felt Lexie’s hand on his arm. He turned, and she drew her hands around his neck, craning her head to kiss him. He gasped and stopped her by putting his hands on her shoulders. She looked confused.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “Lexie…”

  “I really like you a lot, Chandler,” she said, taking his hands in hers and moving them off her shoulders.

  He frowned. He should want this. He liked Lexie, and he enjoyed her company. It would’ve been a lie to say that he hadn’t had any romantic notions when asking her to do this dinner. But now that moves were being made, he felt completely turned off. There was no attraction there at all.

  “Look, Lexie,” he said, putting her hands down by her sides. “I’m sorry if I led you on in any way, but… I really like you too, but just as a friend.”

  “Oh,” she said, nodding. She smiled, trying to hide her embarrassment. “I understand.”

  They stood in an awkward silence. Chandler ducked into the car and shut off the engine. “There could be a vacuum leak somewhere,” he said. “Or it could be an issue with the fuel pump. It’s hard to say. I’d look at it closer myself, but I don’t have the tools for it. I can recommend a shop to you…”

  “Is it because of what I do?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Me being a stripper.”

  “Hell, no,” he said. “Don’t be stupid. That’s got nothing to do with it. You’re a great girl, Lexie.”

  “Do you have someone that you’re in love with already? I’m sorry, I’m saying all these things. You don’t need to tell me.”

  He thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said.

  “So there is someone?”

  “It’s complicated. God, I wish it weren’t so complicated.”

  “Whoever she is, she’s lucky.”

  “That’s the thing, Lexie… I, uh… It’s not a she.”

  The words had just slipped out. It was the first time he’d ever said anything about his attractions to anyone, other than Adrian.

  She stared at him, and then covered her mouth. “Oh my god. You’re telling me you’re—”

  “No. I don’t know. I’m not attracted to other men, just one. Just one fucking guy.”

  “The guy that came in that one day,” she said, making the connection. “Holy shit. It was him, wasn’t it, Chandler?”

  Chandler looked away and closed his eyes. He didn’t know why, but he felt like he was going to cry. It just swept over him like a tidal wave. He bit his lip and squeezed his hands into fists, trying to fight it away, but he was powerless to stop it.

  “Yeah,” he breathed.

  He hung his head. Surely Lexie would leave. She’d call him disgusting. She’d tell him to stay away from her and her daughter. Shit. Would she tell other people? Would she out him?

  A tear streaked his cheek. It felt terrible, but at the same time, relieving. Why couldn’t he have just kept his mouth shut?

  There was no way he would’ve been able to, he realized. He needed to say it.

  Then he felt Lexie’s arms wrapping around him. “Oh, Chandler,” she whispered as she held him tightly. “I’m so sorry. To be keeping that to yourself, it must feel horrible. Don’t worry about a thing, okay? Nobody will hear shit from me.”

  “Lexie,” he said, his voice strained. Now the gates opened, and the emotions overwhelmed him. He hugged her. “Thank you.”

  9

  “You seem swamped,” Gloria Ellins told Adrian as she handed him her credit card. Gloria was an old friend of Mom’s, was one of his very first customers, and had a bad habit of hitting curbs when turning into parking lots, causing her to require frequent suspension and tire work.

  “It’s a lot for one person,” he admitted, “but I’d rather keep busy. I get anxious when I’m not doing anything.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “Everyone needs something to keep them active. Have you thought about hiring a worker to help you?”

  “It would help, but I prefer doing the work on my own, right now. It’s hard to find dependable people.”

  The shop was operating on word of mouth, but business had grown rapidly. Turned out the difficulty of finding a dependable mechanic didn’t change whether you were on the client side or the hiring side. Many of his customers were friends of Mom who were tired of getting ripped off or talked down to whenever they needed work done on their cars.

  The truth was that he really could use a second worker. He needed the help, but he just couldn’t bring himself to hire anyone. It just didn’t feel right. He could hear Chandler’s voice in his head telling him to stop being such a fucking dreamer and to just hire somebody if he needed someone, but how could he? In his mind, there was only one man who could fill that second position.

  He ran the credit card using a handheld reader, and printed her a receipt. “Thank you, Mrs. Ellins,” he said. “Please drive safely.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be back here next month with something,” she said. “Knowing how I drive.”

  He laughed. “Then I’ll see you next month.”

  She backed the car out of the narrow lot, managing to run one wheel off the sloped angle of where the driveway entrance became the curb. She winced and gritted her teeth at Adrian before giving him a wave and driving away. “Or maybe a little sooner,” he said to himself.

  The garage was on the outskirts of Rosebridge, backed by a cascade of trees fixing to turn brilliant colors in the fall, and next to a line of old brick mills that’d been converted into restaurants. He could work on four cars at a time, had a large lot in the back for waiting vehicles, and semi-attached to the building was a spacious loft studio that had been used as offices back in the ‘50s. Adrian had gotten a good deal on the garage because the area wasn’t prime, though gentrification was quickly changing things. When business turned out to be much better than he’d expected, he’d used some of his first earnings along with some leftover money he’d made from selling his semi-truck as a down pay
ment on the studio, and had moved in a month back.

  He went back inside the garage to get back to work. He opened the drawer and put the reader back in its place, right next to the photo of him and Chandler that was taken in Iraq. On the wall behind the desk was the American flag he’d had hanging in the sleeper cab of his truck, still colored by the dirt and dust it had collected from its time in the Middle East. He’d chosen not to wash it after bringing it home. It was a reminder of all he’d been through during that time.

  Aside from Mom and his customers, life had been solitary since that final truck run to Arkansas. It hadn’t even really been a habit before, but now any desire for any one night stands had completely evaporated. His mind was still taken by the effect Chandler had had on him, and it was beginning to wear him down. He’d made a huge life change and was actually succeeding at doing something he had a real passion for, but that restless feeling still hadn’t gone away. What he was beginning to understand was that it probably would never go away.

  Was that his destiny? To always pine for a relationship with a man a thousand miles away?

  Part of him wanted to return to Arkansas—to do what, he had no idea. Chandler would never be with him openly even if he had said he would stay in Everetteville with him. They’d always be a secret. They’d have to lie to April and everyone else, pretending that they were just old army buddies. The thought of it made him feel sick. He didn’t like hiding, but that was what he’d had to do with Chandler from the very beginning.

  He’d also fallen for the little girl that resembled her father so much. He’d never cared for children, and had never been able to see himself becoming a father, but after meeting April those thoughts had changed. It touched him to see April and Chandler’s interactions, and how curious about the world she was. Introducing her to The Secret Garden, which had been one of his favorite books as a child, had made him nearly as happy as seeing Chandler again. He could see the promise she had, and wanted to be a part of her life. Why couldn’t Chandler see that leaving Everetteville was best for her? Couldn’t he see that he was letting her down?

  He did understand Chandler’s reasoning. It was a risk, especially when he was walking on a thin rope as it was, but just because he understood didn’t mean he agreed. What the hell was Chandler so afraid of?

  Chandler, Chandler, Chandler.

  It was a miracle he’d been able to do so much with the garage, given how much of his thoughts that son of a bitch occupied. He often found himself fantasizing about simple things—the feeling of holding his hand, the tender way Chandler liked to touch Adrian’s neck when they were sitting together, the way he smelled… God, the way he smelled was something else, and even though he hadn’t been around the man in over three months, he could still bring back the memory of his aroma. It’d been the same way during the years before their reunion, though he’d had the help of letters Chandler sent, which always smelled vaguely of him.

  Adrian jacked up the car he was working on, a Volkswagen Jetta that belonged to the son of one of his other clients, and removed the tire using a pneumatic ratchet. The car was making a groaning noise whenever taking sharp corners, and he had a feeling there was an issue with one of the struts. The sound of an engine and tires rolling to a stop in front of the shop made him stop and see who was there. It was the mailman. Adrian pulled off his gloves and went down to the mailbox, trying not to look too eager.

  “Hey, there,” the mailman said, nodding.

  “Afternoon,” Adrian replied. “Got anything interesting for me?”

  “Looks like a couple envelopes. Here you go.”

  “Thanks. Take care.” He flipped past the grocery store ads to the envelopes and scanned them quickly, then walked back up to the shop and tossed them all into the trash. Nothing but junk. He’d submitted a mail forwarding request from his old apartment, and every day he’d silently hoped to see a letter from Chandler appear in his mailbox. He knew it’d never come, but that didn’t stop him from thinking about it every time he got the mail.

  He was prisoner to his feelings for Chandler. The love he had for him was deep and unfailing, to where every moment spent with him was bliss and every second without him was torture. The worst thing about the visit to Everetteville was that it had given him an idea of what a life together with Chandler could be like. Before, there was passion, attraction and the intense bond they’d formed during their time in the army. Now, he could see a future with him. He imagined what it’d be like to grow old together, to build a whole life with one another, and to raise April together.

  No, actually, that wasn’t the worst thing about their reunion. The worst thing was that he knew Chandler felt the same way. Adrian could feel it in every moment they’d spent together over those few days, including their tense goodbye.

  Damn Chandler for being so stubborn.

  But he was stubborn too. He’d thought about contacting him again to tell him that the garage was a success and that there was a job waiting for him, but he just couldn’t. He was upset that Chandler had rejected him. If anyone was going to do the reaching out, it was going to be Chandler, not him.

  But was it really just stubbornness?

  Or was it fear?

  Fear that, after convincing himself that there would be no reason for Chandler to turn down his offer again, he would still reject him? Maybe it’d be better to hold on to a flicker of a hope, rather than have it snuffed out forever.

  That was what he told himself, anyway.

  10

  “I would’ve done the exact same thing,” Lexie said. “Things might be not the best here, but at least I know my money is coming in and I can feed my little girl.”

  She was on her lunch break, and had come to the back room to chat with Chandler, who was fixing a leaking faucet.

  “Lexie,” he said, peering out from underneath the sink cabinet, “didn’t you say that you’d take Isabelle and split the moment an opportunity came up somewhere else?”

  “Yeah,” she said, brushing her hair behind her ear. “I guess it's easier said than done. I understand exactly why you turned him down. But I know how hard that must’ve been for you. I mean, god. Having the man you love coming back into your life and offering the world, and you have no choice but to say no? It breaks my heart.”

  “In the end, April always comes first,” he said. “She’s been through enough shit, I couldn’t put her through more.”

  “Stop being such a damn sweetheart. This Adrian guy doesn’t deserve you.”

  “No… I think it’s the opposite. I’ve only done him wrong.”

  “You’re just doing what’s best for your family, and the world could use a hell of a lot more of that. I know way too many folks who would easily and happily forget their responsibilities for less. Isabelle’s father, for example.”

  “Sometimes I wonder if I’d made the wrong decision.”

  “Have you talked to him since?”

  “Hell, no. We ain’t talkin’ ever again.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s what we agreed to.”

  God knew he’d thought about it. The unsent letters continued to pile up in his box, most of them half-written without any clear purpose, just babbling excuses to get back in touch with Adrian. And still, he continued to write them nearly every day. He felt pathetic every time he stuffed another one into the box, but it’d become a necessary habit, almost like writing them acted as a vent for the aching pressure of longing that was continuously building in his heart. If he didn’t let some of that steam out, eventually his heart might split in two. Maybe he’d end up writing those letters for the rest of his goddamn life, because he just couldn’t see himself ever getting over Adrian.

  He just loved him too much.

  “Daddy?” April said as they were driving home from the day care center.

  “Yes, princess?”

  “Are you okay?”

  Chandler looked at her through the rear-view mirror, surprised at her question. April�
�s big, grey eyes stared back at him, the look of concern in them so pronounced that it might’ve made him laugh in any other situation. It shocked him that his little girl was so sharp to his feelings.

  “Hm? Why do you ask?” he said, doing his best to hide his surprise.

  She looked down. “Nothing.”

  “Honey…”

  “You aren’t as happy anymore, Daddy. Not since Adrian left.”

  Hearing those words coming from April hit him harder than a bullet to the chest.

  “That’s not true, honey,” he said, forcing the words out.