Page 22 of Barefoot Lake

I pull into Tony’s lot and see him look up from under the hood of a sedan. I park and hop out but wait for Alice so we can approach the mechanic together.

Tony is a bit shorter than I am but built sturdy. He has salt-and-pepper hair and a thick beard. The stiff material of his work shirt and pants is spotted with grease and dirt, but his face has one of the kindest smiles I’ve ever known.

“Tony, this is Alice, Rain’s daughter.”

“Nice to meet you, Alice. I’m sorry about your mom.” He wipes his hand on a red rag hanging from his pocket before reaching out to shake her hand.

“Thank you. I was hoping you could help me with a flat? I ran over a nail last night.” She releases his hand and points her thumb over her shoulder back to my truck.

“We’ve got the tire in the back of Jake’s truck.”

“I’d be happy to.” Tony follows us back to my truck and takes the tire away. He says we’re welcome to wait in the office while he does the patch. We file inside and take the only two seats. Yet again, we fall into silence.

I look over at Alice while she stares, again, at her hands. It feels good to help her out after being such a dick at first, like I’m balancing the scales and repaying Rain for some of her kindness toward me.

Rain told me it was only her and her daughter, so I know Alice doesn’t have more family, except maybe Piper, who looked as close to Alice as a sister would be. And while it’s clear Piper would come out swinging for Alice — she did for Scotty after just meeting him, after all — I feel just a little bit protective of Alice, too. I want her to have another person in her corner.

It’s a bad idea, and I blame Rain entirely for making me such a sucker. I didn’t have trouble minding my own business before she blew into town.

Alice must feel me staring because she looks over at me, and then quickly back down. I look away, too.

This is a bad idea.

Maybe fifteen minutes later, Tony comes to retrieve us, letting Alice know the tire is all set and back in my truck. He refuses to let her pay him, and we’re off.

I’m happy I’m able to help Alice, and things have been civil, but that’s all this should be. I shouldn’t be this interested in learning more about her. I shouldn’t be focusing on the smell of her shampoo, perfume, whatever, filling my truck again. I search for a safe, boring topic as we head back to the Corner Post.

“What do you do for work?”

“I work in the English department at a university in the city, but I’m on leave for the semester. Usually, I work on curricula and coordination and teach a little.”

“Impressive,” I say honestly.

“I started as a teacher, but when someone in admin retired less than a year after I started, they asked me to help with organizing things, and it kind of stuck.”

“Do you like it?”

“Sometimes.” It sounds like a lie, and when I look over to see if she’s joking, I find her looking sadly out the passenger window. “Other times, the bureaucratic bullshit makes me want to scream. I wish I taught more, like I used to, but so far, the good outweighs the bad, so I’m happy to keep at it. It also makes me feel, I don’t know, accomplished? I wouldn’t want to disappoint my mom. Having such an influential position in the department at such a young age is an honor. It’s ‘the dream,’ you know?”

I’m grateful the drive is short, because I don’t know what to say to that. The way she puts air quotes around “the dream” makes me wonder if it’s her dream. I hope the hum I give is sufficient.

Once I’ve put the truck in park near her CRV, Alice launches out, but I’m surprised when she’s waiting by the bed of the truck for me.

“Can you help me get the tire out?” The request is small, but it feels like a big deal that she asked instead of fighting to drag the tire out on her own.

“Happy to.” I get it out and hold it on her car while she snugs the lug nuts. I release it but stand nearby while she finishes up. Her shoulder bumps my arm when she stands, but she doesn’t leap back like she did when our hands touched earlier. I don’t either.

I retrieve the wedge from the other side of her car as she loads the jack and tire iron away.

She looks up at me before nodding stiffly and getting in her car. She pulls out of the space while I head to my truck but waits for me to get in and exit the parking lot first.

I lead the way back home even though there’s literally no reason since she knows where we’re going. I still don’t like the idea of just leaving her behind. It feels rude.

When we get back, I park in front of my garage but go around the house to the front door anyway. I look over and see that Alice did the same, even though I know she has a side door, too.

“Thanks again for your help today!” she hollers.

“Don’t mention it.”