Page 47 of Surrender to Love

I end the call, brew myself another cup of tea—a calming berry blend—then clean my counters. I walk back into the living room, turn the television off and place my comfy throw on the back of the chaise. As I ascend the stairs, I take a few sips of tea. My plan is to be asleep within an hour and this tea and a melatonin always does the trick.

Once I’m in bed, propped up on my pillows and back into an episode of A Different World, my cell vibrates and I smile, already knowing who texted me.

Him: Have a good night, baby.

My smile remains on my face as I sip my tea and watch my show. My eyes get heavy before the episode ends and I’m out before ten.

TWELVE

“You going to Deuce’s tonight?” Tre asks when I walk into the office.

“Nah. I think I’m going to work on my bike. I’m almost done with the carburetor. She’ll be on the road before December.”

“Shit before next week if you keep working on it. You’ve been here every night this week. Kyrah ass got you sick as fuck, bruh,” he says then laughs.

It’s been almost a week. I’m sick as fuck and missing my baby but I’m giving her space. It’s hard as fuck though. I almost gave in and drove to her last night. I came back here and worked on my bike until almost two. The new tires are on and I’ve added the passenger seat. Tre is right. If she keeps icing me, I’ll have my bike on the road next week for sure.

“Real sick,” I admit honestly. “This shit’s got to end soon. I miss my baby.”

“See. That lovesick shit ain’t for me. Y’all can have it ’cause I’m sick of seeing you pouting like a girl. But isn’t tonight her Friday thing? Go get her,” he says, voicing what I’ve been thinking all damn day. After letting her have fun with her girls, I was gon’ pull up.

“That’s the plan. I’m gonna close up, work on my bike, then clean up and head her way around ten. And I may be dragging a little but pouting like a girl? Never.”

“Look in a fucking mirror,” he says, then closes his laptop. “I’m out. I’ll be here tomorrow for the interviews. I have three possibles. The first one is at two, so you can see them and make sure you ain’t fucked.”

“I saw the resumes you left on the desk. I don’t know the names but I’ll be here for the interviews. Unless they are toothless and can’t read, we are hiring two.”

Because we are basically open every day of the week, I decided we need two employees, one full-time and one part-time for weekends and to cover when the other is out. The months without one prior to ol’ girl and this last week have been too damn much.

“Bet. Well, I’m up. See you about one. Got to find me something to lay up with.”

“Be easy,” I tell him, then follow him out. It’s an hour until closing and the lobby is cleared. Two cars and a truck are in the bays but all three vehicles aren’t scheduled to be ready until tomorrow. It’s been a crazy ass day and we were busy from open until now. My guys did good so I send everyone home, starting with Niko who had been handling the lobby since after lunch. “You can head out,” I tell him.

“You sure?” he asks and I nod. “’Preciate it. See you Monday.

The guys in the bay are next. I’ll handle the last hour and close. After they leave, I close the bay doors then lock up the lobby. I clean it next—picking up the trash, emptying the coffee pots and washing them, then checking the bathroom.

I’ll be happy as hell when we hire somebody.

After changing the music on the sound system, I turn it up and work on my bike. Fixing her is my therapy. It’s relaxing, and because I’m solo, I have the time I need to think and process shit. For me, it’s like sitting on a stranger’s couch and spilling my shit. Three hours later, I have a rebuilt carbonator and a clear plan. I’m definitely going to see my baby tonight. This week is killing me.

A few minutes after ten, I lock up each bay, kill the lights, then leave through the lobby door after setting the alarm. The minute I’m in my ride, Deuce texts.

Deuce: You hitting my spot tonight?

Me: Nah ’bout to head to CF in about an hour.

Deuce: Why? Your girl and her friend just walked in here.

Me: Kyrah?

Deuce: Who else, nigga.

Me: Chill.

Me: I’ll be there.

Deuce: Bet. I’ll put them in my section.