What a fucking dickhead.
EIGHT
The campground is slowly stirringto life as I stroll back to my van after my run. I took my time, savoring the tranquility of the still-silent village, to look around a bit. The soft sounds of fishermen chatting in the distance as they prepare their boats for another day on the water adds a gentle backdrop to the morning.
Along my walk I spied a charming little café. It was still closed, and I made a mental note to return later, after a shower, for a cup of coffee.
Maybe they have Wi-Fi I could use to look for another job.
Approaching my van, I notice a dark puddle forming beneath the hood on the pebbled ground, and an exasperated sigh escapes my lips.
Oh, come on. Can’t you give me a break?
As I crouch down beside the van, my hand resting on her side, I peer underneath, and my heart sinks. The liquid is unmistakably green. “For fuck’s sake,” I mutter under my breath, closing my eyes.
It’s coolant. Which isn’t the worst thing it could be. I already dealt with an oil leak on my way here, which was a nightmare. But still, it’s a pain in the ass to get under her and fix it.
It appears one of the hoses has sprung a leak. Rising to my feet, I walk around the van and open the back of it. Behind the bed, there is another drawer underneath filled with tools. I retrieve insulating tape and a flashlight before sealing everything up again. Then, with a string of muttered curses, I make my way beneath the van, the flashlight clamped between my teeth.
Laying there, I strain to find the source of the leak while the pebble stones pinch into my back. Good thing it doesn’t take me long to spot it. With the flashlight between my teeth, I swiftly wrap the tape around the leak, ensuring it won’t spill another drop.
Gotcha!
Taking the flashlight out of my mouth, I shine it around to ensure the problem is fixed. I can’t help but curse once more. It isn’t just the one hose that is brittle and on the verge of giving out. It seems that several others are in similarly bad shape. Thankfully, this appears to have been the only immediate problem.
I know that the tape is only a temporary solution. It’s clear I need a new hose, or multiple new hoses, given the sorry state of the others. But I haven’t seen any shops nearby.
With a sigh of resignation, I crawl out from under Van-essa. Leaning with my hip against the front and fiddling with the flashlight, I contemplate my next steps.I need to find a replacement hose.
Coolant hoses aren’t exorbitantly expensive, but for an old Chevy van, and considering I might need multiple replacements sooner rather than later, the costs are bound to add up.
I bite on my bottom lip briefly before stretching my neck from side to side.
Let’s do this.
I gather my stuff and take a quick shower, letting the warm water wash away the sweat from the run and the grime of my impromptu repair job. Then I slip into light blue jeans and a brown flannel shirt, topping it off with a maroon beanie to keep my head warm. I’m not used to the cold breeze here.
With my things packed and my mind made up, I leave, locking the door behind me. The crisp air hits me, but it’s invigorating.
Let’s see if the café I noticed is open for a warm drink and a place to sit.
As I approach, I see the lights inside flick on, a silent invitation. A grin tugs at my lips.Perfect timing.
I push through the door just as the café comes to life, and the bell chimes above me. My eyes scan the cozy interior, and there’s Tally, bright and perky behind the counter. My heart skips a beat.
“Sloan! So good to see you!” Tally exclaims, a sincere smile stretching over her pretty face. “You did an amazing job yesterday. I couldn’t have asked for better help.”
I feel a surge of pride at her words as I walk over to her at the register.
It’s always nice to be appreciated.
I give her a warm smile of my own. “I thought you said you already had too much on your plate, and now you’re working at this café too?” I ask, furrowing my brow.
“Well, the café is mine,” Tally explains, her voice getting softer with every word. “It’s cute and small, a dream I’ve worked my butt off for. The workload would have been perfect if Mom were still here.”
On cue, a chill runs down my neck, and I spot her mother on our left side out of the corner of my eye. She’s just watching Tally again with a proud smile. I gently squeeze Tally’s hand, and thewords escape my lips before I can second-guess myself. “She’s only a whisper away.”
The sentiment flows out of me instinctively, and a rush of memories floods my mind, bringing tears to my eyes. Fortunately, Tally responds with a sad smile, her own eyes glistening.
