She taps her wrist indicating we still have time, so I let her continue.
"Danny and Sandy fromGrease? He was so well-liked and popular. She was kind and loved him no matter who he was."
"Do you still love him?"
"Yes." Her eyes catch mine, and they sparkle. But not in a happy way. The glossy shine gives her brown eyes a bronzish tint. She looks beautiful even close to tears, but I can't tell her that.
I'm sitting at the counter watching a new, vulnerable side to Amelia I've never seen before.
"Ever since my mom died, I told myself not to get attached to the idea of love. You can't expect your happiness to come from someone else, so I tried my best to be content with myself and my life, with or without a man. But Beckettbecamemy life, so it was hard not to detach myself from that fact. He's the first person I lost who didn't actually die, you know? It's a different healing process."
"I wish I could say I understand, but I don't. I'm sorry you're having to start all over."
She hops onto the countertop. "Thanks, it's easier knowing I'm down here and he's up in LA."
"He doesn't know you came back home?"
"I'm sure he assumes that now."
"And yet you will be gone before we realized you were here."
"We'll see about that. I've gotten more rejections than opportunities. What are your plans now that you're back?"
She doesn't say "home," and I appreciate it. I'm not home. This is not my home.
"I don't have a plan at the moment," I confess.
"How do you not have a plan?"
"I didn’t when I left ten years ago, and look at me now."
"You're saying all I need to do is travel abroad, scrounge for work, and I can return with…abs and no prospects?"
"Sounds about right."
Amelia chuckles and quickly clears her throat.
"I do know I plan on fixing up my dad's car while I'm back."
"While you're back? Does that mean you think you may leave the States again?"
"I don't know," I tell her truthfully. "I don't think too far ahead anymore."
"What's wrong with your dad's car?"
"It's easier if I show you."
I expect her to whine or protest and offer up an excuse about her early alarm the next morning, but she gives me an immediate, "Okay."
When we're in the garage, I pop the hood and point to various parts.
"What sucks about old cars is they overheat easily. I'll need to put in a new cooling system. Definitely a new battery, and while I'm at it, maybe even some new brakes. I can't even remember the last time I had this on the road."
She looks on intently, like all these junky parts make sense to her. I begin touching a few things, getting oil and grime on my fingers, but she keeps watching me.
"This is the new engine we put in right before my dad deployed."
I remember the time vividly. How heavy the engine was and how we nearly broke the cradle getting it inside the car. And when it was finally in, my dad pretended it smashed his fingers and started howling. I freaked out at the time but nearly smile at the memory now.
