It scares me so bad I drop my phone.
“Damn it, Merv! You scared the shit out of me.”
Merv scowls, his bushy eyebrows furrowing together as he crosses his arms over his chest. “What the hell are ya doin’ here?”
I pick up my phone, sighing in relief when I see it’s not cracked. “Working?”
Merv chuffs and shakes his head, mumbling what sounds like “goddamned kids.”
“What’s your deal, old man? I’ve got work to do.”
“I thought you’d stay in Cupid’s Cove is all.”
“What?Why would you think that?”
“I’m old, not stupid, Mikey. I saw the way ya and that baker man were eyein’ each other. I knew ya needed a little push to let him in. It’s why I agreed to let ya take him home. Thought you'd figure it out by now.”
“Figure what out?”
“You two are made for each other. You’re not meant to be here, in my shop, forever. You need to spread your wings and do something different. That baker man is a good one, even if his methods are a bit odd.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Mikey, I know ya ain’t stupid. Every three months for a year he had somethin’ wrong with his van. Silly things that don’t just happen. Ya mean to tell me ya didn’t pick up on the fact he was breakin’ his car on purpose just to see ya?”
“I mean, the idea crossed my mind, but that’scrazy,Merv. Why would he go to those lengths?”
Merv shrugs. “People do crazy things when love is on the line.”
“Saint didn’t even know me when his van first came to the shop, though.”
“I think the first time was a coincidence, but the next few weren’t. Ya saw what happened to his fuel line. That wasn’t a freak accident, someone pried that sucker off. Someone who didn’t know what they were doin’.”
I suspected it wasn’t just some random incident. I thought maybe it was one of those stories I’d tell for years to come about the time a fuel line detached on its own. I didn’t want to believe Saint had been actively trying to break his vehicle.
I think about the fuse I fixed and how it looked like it had been water-logged. How none of the other fuses had shown any signs of damage. I think about how Merv mentioned plugging in his lights and the loose gas cap.
Saint told me he’s been working up the nerve to ask me out for a year, that he knew the minute he saw me I was the one for him.
“We don’t know that’s what happened,” I hedge.
Merv barks out a laugh. “Right. Well, you go call your baker and ask him flat out then.”
“What if he did?”
“Then ya need to make a decision. Is it a dealbreaker for ya? Or is it sweet? Somethin’ like those romance books you yap about?”
What does it say about me that I’m not at all put off by his absurd way of trying to get my attention?
If anything, it makes him more endearing. He went through all this trouble, spent all this money, just to see me? To work up the nerve to talk to me?
Bonkers. Saint is bonkers.
“I’ll go ask him right now.”
Merv waves me off, and I step outside, dialing Saint.
Anxiety swirls in my gut as it goes straight to voicemail.
