“It’s a lot of fun. What about you? Any plans?”
“Kelly works on Thanksgiving. She’s an ER doctor and doesn't have kids of her own, so she usually ends up taking theholidays so the doctors with families can have them off. If she’s not swamped with turkey frying incidents, I’ll take her a turkey sandwich, which is about as close as I’ve ever gotten to having a turkey on Thanksgiving.”
“You’ve never had a turkey? Ever?”
“Nope. We usually had a rotisserie chicken, a box of macaroni and cheese, a can of green beans, and a store bought pumpkin pie. Dad wasn’t much of a cook. I do okay now, but what the hell would I do with a whole turkey? A sandwich is much easier.”
A frown pulls at my mouth as we approach the shop. I could fill a five gallon bucket with all the follow-up questions I have, but I keep them to myself. I don’t think she needs a full interrogation today.
“Well, my apartment is just down the street. Thanks for the company, Saint. I’ll see you around.” As soon as she says the last word, freezing rain starts falling down in sheets. Mikey and I rush into the shop, barely escaping the onslaught.
“Mikey! Fancy seein’ you here. And with Saint, no less.”
“He was at the bar. Thought I’d walk him back on my way home.”
“How fortuitous he ended up there. How are ya gonna get home in this weather, though? You’ll catch a cold.”
“I’ll just hang out here until it dies down.”
Patrick snorts from his spot against the wall. “Weather report says it’s not stopping until well after closing.”
“I can hang out till closing, then Pat can take me home.”
“No can do. Merv and I are working on the Finlinson car tonight.”
“‘Sides, ya shouldn’t be at work on your day off. And before ya ask,no,ya can’t help,” Merv says sternly.
Mikey throws her hands up in the air. “Well, how the hell am I supposed to get home, then?”
“Saint can take ya.”
Mikey looks at me, wide-eyed and a bit panicked like she’s about to protest the idea. I make a mental note to bake Merv a million cookies.
“I’m happy to take you, if you’re comfortable with it,” I say quickly.
Mikey pulls her lip between her teeth and releases it on a heavy sigh. “Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out.”
“He’s sure,” Merv answers for me.
“Merv, let the man speak for himself.”
“I’m sure. Let me settle up here and we can go.”
“Nothin’ to settle. All Pat had to do was plug in your lights. I ain’t chargin’ you for that. Sign here to cover our bases, and you two get outta here.” Merv slides me a pen, and I sign.
I have a feeling fighting him would be about as effective as arguing with a wall, so I don’t. Patrick hands me my keys, and Mikey and I rush to the van. Her shirt is slightly damp from the brief moments in the rain, and I have to tear my eyes away so I don’t ogle the way her shirt is almost see-through.
“You said you live up the road?”
Mikey’s looking around the van, her eyes soaking in all the small personal touches. A smile tips her lips when she sees the miniature stand mixer hanging from my rearview mirror. “Yeah, Oakville Apartments. Two blocks or so south.”
“Got it.” I start the van, pulling out of the parking lot and heading in the direction of her apartment.
I can’t believe she’s here, next to me, in my van.
Thank you, fate.
6
