“Not every night.” Though I couldn’t remember the last night I’d spent completely inside. Not since before my parents started competitive level fighting. Some things were more oppressive than heat. It didn’t take a wild guess to assume Daniel knew that too.
“What’s wrong with your house?” he asked in a quiet voice.
I felt Daniel’s eyes on me until I had to look at him. I glanced at his house, quiet just then, and I decided in that moment that he might understand.
The words were dragged up from somewhere deep inside me, like I was exhuming a grave.
“My parents fought like pros. My mom could have medaled in it. She knew how to build to a screaming crescendo that would render my dad silent. She knew how to raise her voice to a volume that I could practically feel shaking the roof beneath me. She knew how to stalk him when he tried to retreat in a way that I could map their route through the house. Even up on the roof, I could hear them—not the exact words most of the time, but the vehemence, the anger, the disdain.” There’d been nowhere I could go to get away from that. It had slithered up my body and held me prisoner. Night after night after night.
“And then she left.” My throat closed as I spoke. “She—did something. Something that you can’t fix. I woke up the next morning, and she was gone.” I bit down on my tongue. Hard. Savored the pain until I was sure I wouldn’t do something embarrassing. “I don’t want her to come back or anything. My parents were always fighting and nothing was ever good enough for her, but it’s too quiet inside now with just me and my dad.” I felt my eyes start to sting, and that black twisty hate flushed anew.
I looked down at a loose shingle I’d been slowly peeling up for months and tore it free. I twisted slightly away from Daniel, needing to reclaim at least the semblance of my solitary roof again.
“Why are you out here?” I cast a brief glance at him over my shoulder. “What’s wrong with your house?” It was kind of a low blow, I knew that, but I honestly didn’t expect him to answer. I figured he’d leave. I wanted him to leave. I hadn’t meant to say all that about my mom. I felt like I’d picked a scab open, and now that it was bleeding again, I wanted to be left alone to lick my wounds.
Daniel was smiling, but it wasn’t a nice smile. It was the kind I had to wear when a customer came into the shop screaming. “I brought my mom out here because we needed to get away from some things back home. She didn’t want to leave, but I didn’t give her a choice. She’s not real happy with me right now.” He laughed, and goose bumps broke out on my arms. “But you already knew that.”
Yeah, no joke. But I didn’t say anything. What was there to say? I could have asked him about the prison comment from his mom, but I didn’t want to invite further sharing if it meant I might have to reciprocate.
I had no idea how long we sat in silence after that. Long enough that I stopped regretting what I’d said, but not so long that I could find anything more to say. I didn’t try to stop him when he finally swung down—just as smoothly as he’d swung up. But I did return the small smile he gave me when he said he’d see me tomorrow at eleven o’clock to pick up his Jeep.
CHAPTER 12
Islip into a kind of tunnel vision when I start working on cars, so I was able to let everything fade away the next morning once I got Daniel’s Jeep lifted. The lug nuts proved to be a beast to get loose. I was still working on the last tire when Daniel showed up.
“Hey.” I wiped my hands on my coveralls and looked over my shoulder at the clock on the wall. It was 11:00 a.m. on the nose.
“Am I early?”
“No, I just grossly overestimated my ability to remove half-rusted lug nuts. Are you good for another twenty minutes or so? The waiting room has AC and nonstop Hall & Oates. Plus a few back issues ofField and Streamfrom 2008, I think.”
“I’m good.”
Normally, I really didn’t like people watching me work. Most people ask too many questions. Daniel didn’t, even though I could feel him watching me intently, or at least watching my hands.
After a few minutes, I was mentally cursing the last lug nut, which absolutely refused to budge, so when Daniel offered to help, I didn’t hesitate. I handed him the wrench and my pride was mollified by seeing the amount of effort he had to exert before the nut came off. When he moved aside so that I could loosen the caliper and remove the old pad, I saw the scabs. In the dark the night before, I hadn’t noticed.
“How’s the hand?”
Without having to be asked, Daniel backed up so as not to crowd me. “It’s fine.” He flexed his fingers in demonstration. I guess it was a good thing that old shed was rotted or he probably would have broken something.
Daniel’s gaze followed me when I replaced the metal shim and installed the new pad. The lug nuts went back on without any problems.
I tilted my head toward the slop sink, and together we washed our hands. There was a foot bar in front, so we didn’t have to touch the faucet to turn on the water. I stood next to him while I lathered up; when I shifted forward to rinse my hands, my shoulder brushed against his. I glanced up at him and caught his eye for just a second and couldn’t help smiling before stepping back to give him more room.
I’d been expecting to feel…awkward around Daniel after telling him about my mom, but I didn’t. Because I knew a little about him too. I didn’t have to keep my guard up as much, and that was…nice.
When I got his Jeep back on the ground, I turned the engine on and pumped the brakes to build up pressure in the braking system.
“I guess you’re all set.” I turned off the engine and hopped down from the driver’s seat. “Just be careful the first few times you drive it.” I handed over his keys. “And don’t worry if you see a little smoke initially.”
Daniel gave me a look that was part smile, part confusion. “What, seriously?”
“I never joke about cars.”
He eyed the Jeep, then me, and repeated the process. Each time his eyes fell on me they lingered a little longer.
“Sometimes there’s a little smoke from residual oil on the rotors. It’ll dissipate in a few miles, if you see any at all.”
