And I think about this for a moment because, looking to our future as a couple, I realize that it’s going to be hard to get him to take time off. Would I even be able to attempt talking him into going to Comic-Con with me? Maybe, that will have to stay a Ruby-only trip. Not really Mason’s scene.
“Well, had you given me a heads-up, I could have rescheduled my meetings. So, remember that in ninety days,” he tells me.
“Nah, I’m taking a week off for Comic-Con next month. So, it will be a while before my next forced time off.” I smile.
“Oh yes, Comic-Con will be fun this year. The whole gang is going,” he says. And yes, I think it will be the best year yet. We chat for a few more minutes before we disconnect. Then I flip the TV on to CNN, one of my favorite channels. But I can’t stay focused. It’s beautiful out and I’m itching to go have fun, not spend my day on the couch doing nothing.
A few hours later I find myself at Skyline Comics. I drove today instead of grabbing an Uber, because I’m going to head over to North Avenue Beach and get caught up on my comic book reading. I’ve got a blanket, an umbrella and lunch packed in the back of my ruby-red VW Beetle. It was a sweet sixteen gift from my parents and I’m still madly in love with it nearly ten years later. Which is why I like to drive Dorothy around the city every couple of months. Yes, I named my car. And yes, The Wizard of Oz is my favorite movie of all time. I know Chicagoans don’t tend to have cars, but I couldn’t give mine up. Plus, there are times when I would rather just drive. Sometimes living in the city makes me miss driving. I grew up near Chicago, but I’ve always enjoyed the city life. I love the tall buildings, the hustle and bustle of the city. I love the options. You can walk, you can grab a taxi or Uber, drive, or even hop on the L, Chicago’s train system.
Since I don’t drive often, I don’t have to fill up my tank frequently. But I noticed earlier when I got in my car to head to the comic book store that I was sitting dangerously close to E. So, I made a mental note to fill up on my way home.
I’m leaning up against my Bug, taking in the sights and smells of this somewhat dingy gas station. It smells of dirty motor oil and I’m pretty sure there is something rotting in the trash can thanks to the heat of the late June sun. Out of the corner of my eye I see a man slowly walk toward me.
I’m not afraid, I live in downtown Chicago, I carry pepper spray with me at all times. But I’m still on alert and I hope he just belongs to one of these cars at a nearby pump. I don’t bother checking how much gas I’ve just put into my tank, I know I’ve got enough to get me home. The grimy feel of the rubber gas nozzle almost goes unnoticed when the man continues walking right toward me, I can’t get the nozzle put away quickly enough.
The man slows a bit now that he’s closer. He’s decently dressed, and he’s smiling. It doesn’t matter though, I’m sure all serial killers smile when they first approach their next victim.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he says and stops, keeping a comfortable distance near the front of my car. I look at him just as I realize my purse and pepper spray are in my car. Damn.
“Just wanted to let you know that your tire here is really low.” He points down to my driver side front tire. “You’re going to need to fill that up and probably take it to get checked for a nail or something.”
Well, double damn.
“Oh, thanks,” I say, splitting my focus between him and the freaking almost-flat tire I didn’t notice earlier.
“No prob. I would want someone to say something to my wife if she were ever in your shoes.” He smiles and I realize that he is not much older than me. He’s already married. I bet he even has a kid or two.
He starts to turn back and then stops. “The air machine is right over there,” he says, pointing to the side of the station next to the dumpsters. Ah, good to know.
“Thank you,” I tell him as he walks to the next pump over and gets into a black pickup truck.
I bet it’s a freaking nail. Just my luck. I get in my own car, that is now showing the stinking “low tire pressure” alert on the dash display and pull in next to the air machine. Squinting to read the small notice, I see that air costs twenty-five cents.
Really? Why does anyone charge for air?
Whatever. I sit there for a moment and … I have no idea how to put air in my tire. This is something my brother or dad always did for me. Heck, I think I saw Gia put air in her tire once, but I haven’t ever needed to do it myself until now. I have a regular maintenance plan on my car, so … it must be a nail.
I pull my lip through my teeth and think of a plan. Oh! Mason’s office is about a ten-minute walk from here. I’ll text him. He’ll come help me out, I don’t think it takes very long to fill up a tire. Then I’ll even drive him back to work.
Me: Hey! So, I need your help! I need to put air in my tire and I don’t know how. Can you swing by? I’m at the gas station on LaSalle.
I wait a few minutes. He’s just read the text, but maybe he’s in a meeting and will text me back in a minute or two.
After nearly five minutes, I text again.
Me: You there? I really need help.
Immediately after I hit “send”, my phone starts ringing. Thankfully it’s Mason.
“I’m at work, Ruby. I can’t really talk right now,” he says with annoyance.
“Yeah, I know, but I can’t get home until I get air in my tire. Can you help me?”
“I’m not sure what you want me to do, I can’t just drop everything and come save you.”
Uh, what?
Do I need saving? And I’m thinking it would take him less than half an hour to come help me.
“I’m really sorry to bother you, Mason, but I’m pretty close and I really do need help here. Grab a cab or walk, I’ll take you back to the station when you’re done. Thirty minutes tops.” There is now a hint of desperation in my voice.
He sighs into the phone. I can’t tell if that sigh is in my favor or not.
“Look, I really can’t leave right now. Just Google it or something. I’m sure there’s a YouTube video you can watch.”
Really? Really!?
My blood starts to boil at his shitty comment.
“Yeah, I’m not going to watch a fucking YouTube video while I let all the air out of my tire because I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You’re not going to let all the air out of your tire. Don’t be dramatic. You can always ask someone already there to do it for you,” he scoffs.
What the hell is his problem today?
I look out my window and survey the area. This place is surprisingly empty, and the few people milling about wouldn’t be my first, second, or even third choice to ask for help.
“You know what? I’ll figure something else out.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s all I can do for you right now. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure this out, Ruby.”
“Yeah, I’m hanging up now.” Which is what I do before he gets a chance to say anything in reply.
I think we just had our first real fight.
I lean forward and rest my forehead against the steering wheel. Gah! I’m so flipping angry right now.
Think Ruby, think.
I fish my phone out of my lap and hold down the home button. “Call Link,” I tell the smart phone.
It rings twice.
“Rubes. ’Sup, girl?”
I’m too stressed to acknowledge the stupid-ass slang that I imagine only Justin Bieber uses because he thinks it's cool.
“Are you busy?” I ask still leaning my forehead into the steering wheel.
“I’m at lunch with my financial adviser, why?”
Dang it. I knew that. I didn’t even check the time.
“Oh, never mind. Sorry to bother you, Link.” I start to move the phone away from my face to hit the “end call” button when I hear him speak.
“No, you can always bother me, what’s wrong, Ruby?” His voice is laced with concern.
“I desperately need air in m
y tire. I’m at a gas station and I don’t know a thing about how to do it.”
“What gas station?” he asks.
“The one on LaSalle.”
“Okay, give me twenty minutes.”
I sit up in my seat. “Really? You’re in the middle of a lunch meeting.”
“Not a problem.” I think he covers the phone, because his next words are muffled, but he’s clearly talking to someone. He tells the person that he will give him a call tomorrow morning and to just bill him for a meeting.
“Do you have a tire pressure gage?” He’s talking to me again.
“Oh, umm, I don’t know.”
“It’s probably in your glove compartment. If you don’t have one, they probably sell them in the gas station.”
“Okay,” I reply, because, I really can’t believe he just up and left his lunch meeting. Was he eating? Had he even ordered his food yet?
“I’m really sorry to interrupt your lunch, Link.”
“Rubes, I’m always here for you when you need help. Don’t ever hesitate to call me, got it?” he says. I then hear him telling someone the location of the gas station I’m sitting at.
“Okay,” I offer, still feeling bad. He tells me he's in a cab and on his way and we hang up.
Less than twenty minutes later there’s a knock on my window, which makes me scream automatically.
It’s Link and his cocky-ass smirk.
“Didn’t mean to scare ya, Rubes,” he says, his voice muted by the closed window.
I turn off my car and open the door.
“Thank you so much for coming to my rescue,” I say, handing him the pressure gauge I found in my glove compartment just where he said it would be.
“Anytime, my lady,” he says with a short but no less dramatic bow.
I mutter under my breath about wishing everyone felt that way, when his eyebrow shoots up.
“What was that?” he asks.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just … Mason was too busy to come help me.”
“Come again?” He cocks his head toward me.
“He told me to Google it. But whatever, you’re here now.”
Link studies me. He leans back on his heels with his arms crossed. He looks mad, but I’m not sure why.
“Link?” I ask waving to the tire.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, just trying to process that. Let’s do this. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
He fishes a few quarters out of his pocket and feeds them into the air machine. I watch him carefully, as he unwraps the hose and carries it to my tire. He gets down on his haunches and unscrews the little cap on the tire.
“So, you do not want to lose this cap, while air won’t just leak out of the tire right away, not having the cap for a long period of time isn’t ideal.” He hands me the cap and I continue to watch him.
“You always want to check the pressure before you fill it up,” he says as he attaches the gauge to the tire. I stretch a little to see how to read it.
“Come look.” He waves me over to him with his free hand.
I walk closer to where he is squatting and lean in.
“See how the air pushes out the gauge,” he says, turning his head toward me.
I’m so close to him that I can feel his breath on my cheek. I slide my eyes toward him and see him staring at me.
My reply comes out as a breathy “Yeah.”
I turn my head slightly, and we are now only inches apart. He’s staring right at my mouth. And I can’t keep my eyes from dropping to his.
What am I thinking? I have a boyfriend. I break the trance we seem to be in and nod to the tire. “I got it.”
He clears his throat and turns his attention back to the car as well. With the much-needed distance, he proceeds to walk me through the steps of airing up my tire.
I thank him again for his help and his face gets a little cloudy when he assures me that he’ll always be there if need him. After dropping him off at his apartment, I can’t help wondering why my own boyfriend was too inconvenienced to come and help me today. Yet Link, who’s just a friend, didn’t hesitate for a second.
Chapter Ten
Ruby
While the fall in Chicago is my favorite time of the year, July always holds a special place in my heart. Probably because it’s my birthday month. That and it’s the month of Comic-Con, my all-time favorite convention. With the fourth of July come and gone, I realize, somewhat belatedly that my birthday is just two days away. I’ve been so busy at work that I haven’t had a chance to think about much else.
I’m down at the mailboxes in the apartment lobby grabbing today’s mail when I see two cards. One is from my parents, which is silly because I’m meeting them for dinner this weekend, on my birthday. But my mom knows how much I love mail. I always have. I had a pen pal most of my childhood and getting letters and cards always put a huge smile on my face. My mom would send me a card when I was away at college about every two weeks on top of a monthly care package. Smiling down at the cards I see the second is from Aunt Hattie, my dad’s sister. I jump on the elevator next to the mailboxes and start to carefully open the card from my mom. I’m willing to bet Aunt Hattie filled my card with confetti and I don’t want them spilling out until I’m home where I can sweep them back up.
When I reach my floor, I’m surprised to see Link and Simon waiting outside my apartment.
“Whoa, it’s my lucky day,” I say, fanning myself.
They both smirk. “How so, Rubes?” Simon asks.
“Because I’ve got two hotties waiting for me at my door,” I offer, digging out my key.
They both laugh as Link adds, “Damn straight.”
“Did you lose your key, already?” I ask Simon and swing the door open.
“I … don’t have a key,” he replies, giving me a puzzled look. And shit. I thought Gia already gave him a key. We talked about this a week or so ago, and I thought the gift was already given.
“Oh, well, all in good time then,” I mutter, trying to play it off.
“Gia told us to come on up, she’s like ten minutes away,” he hesitates. I’m still wondering if he’s stuck on the key comment when he adds, “She didn’t know you’d be here. You get out of work early?”
“Yup, I had an afternoon meeting that ran a little long, so I decided to cut out early since I didn’t want to start a new project so late in the day.” I’m not really that early though, I only left about thirty minutes before I normally would have.
“Ahh,” Simon says and pushes off the wall.
“Yeah, whatever, we know you're a slacker at work. No idea how you snagged that promotion last month.” Link winks and brushes his arm next to mine as he follows me into the apartment.
He’s standing close enough that I smack his arm with the back of my hand. “Shut it.”
He wanders over next to Simon and sits down on the couch. I place the mail on the table and continue to open the possibly confetti-filled card. My smile probably can’t be any bigger when, sure enough, birthday confetti falls out onto the floor and my card starts signing “Isn’t she Lovely”. And I love it.
“What’s that for?” Link asks.
“My birthday obvs.” I walk over and pin the card to the corkboard near the kitchen. I grab the card from my mom and do the same.
“Oh, is that coming up?” he asks, and I hear Simon snort.
I turn my head slightly to look over my shoulder and toss him the evil eye. “Yes, I believe I put it in your calendar shortly after we first met.” And I so totally did, just to annoy him.
“Hmm. I think it was deleted because the only thing I have coming up this month is San Diego Comic-Con.”
I purse my lips and try not to smile at him. I know why he and Simon are here right now. The girls are trying to surprise me with an early birthday dinner. I overheard Gia talking to Mo on the phone the other night about it. I start to say something but there’s a knock at the door. I’m going to guess it’s either Morgan and Dex, or Bernie.
<
br /> I open the door to find Bernie standing there. I try for surprise and confusion when I greet her. “Hey girl! What are you doing here?” I play along.
“Oh, be quiet, I can tell by your face you already know why I’m here.” She gives me the knowing look.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I laugh.
She walks in and kicks her Chucks off at the door. She points over her shoulder at the guys. “Who gave it away? Tweedledee or Tweedledum?”
“Ha! Neither actually, I overheard Gia conspiring with Morgan. But they don’t need to know.” I chuckle and look over to the dummies on the couch, leveling my gaze at them, and repeat, “They don’t need to know. Capisce?”
“You got it, boss,” Link mumbles, flipping on the TV.
After a few minutes of chatting with Bernie, the door swings open again with Gia, Morgan and Dex filing in. Immediately, I see Gia holding a big box from my favorite bakery. And I know exactly what is in it. The best cinnamon rolls in Chicago, well, in my opinion anyway. The warm, gooey goodness is cooked to perfection and covered in the best sweet and creamy icing. And they are huge. As I am still savoring the aroma of the bakery box, the smell of garlic and greasy pizza fills my nose. My second favorite food here in Chicago. It’s the New York style which we all love so much. Mike’s Pizza is a little arcade several blocks over that has the best pies around. Not everyone who lives in the Windy City loves Chicago style, deep-dish pizza.
“All right, we made it. Running a tad behind but Ruby should be …” Gia trails off, realizing that something isn’t adding up with the nearly full apartment.
“Wait …” she says. “How did you …?”
“Get in?” Simon replies with a challenging look back at his girl.
I can’t help but laugh when she and Morgan realize I’m here. “Dang it,” Morgan says with a pout while stomping her foot.
“Sorry guys, I guess I ruined your plan. I left work a little early today.”
Gia walks over and places the bakery box on the table. “We wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, I was surprised to see Simon and his sidekick waiting at the door,” I offer as I hear snickering from the peanut gallery.
Game All Night Page 7
