Chapter 38
Payson
The gate doesn’t open right away as I pull into Jeff’s driveway.
I pull up just enough for the camera to catch my face, the engine idling beneath me, steady and low.
A soft click, then the gate slides open.
Jay was right, he knew I would come. I drive through slowly, the gravel crunching beneath the tires.
The building ahead is unremarkable. I haven’t been to Jeff’s since I was a little kid, his mansion has changed so much.
Jeff is already outside when I step out, looking every bit the same as the last time I saw him, except the gray in his hair is really starting to show now, and he’s still just as built as he was before.
He was Jay’s shadow in all the ways I can remember.
“Payson,” he says, still sounding the same after all these years.
I nod, smiling softly toward him.
“Jeff.”
“He told me you’d come.”
I swallow, sobs lingering in my throat just wanting me to let them go. “When?”
His jaw tightens. “Years ago.” I don’t ask any questions.
I find the more I ask, the more I learn.
And the more I learn, the less likely I will continue to do as I’m told and end up getting myself in trouble.
“Come on.” He gestures toward a separate building near the back of his home.
I follow him inside, walking past rows of vehicles.
Some covered. Some old, and some new. All maintained.
“I’m a collector,” he says, as we move deeper into the garage.
We stop at the far end in front of one of the covered cars.
It’s tucked away, separated from the rest in its own space.
He throws off the cover, and a black 1972 Chevelle stares back at me.
Even under the thin layer of dust it’s still…
perfect. Not restored to look new but preserved to stay how it was meant to.
And it’s his. Or was his. I take a step closer, my fingers brushing over the cool metal of the hood.
He used to talk about this car like it was a person.
He used to tell me there were secrets that lay within.
“You kept it,” I say quietly.
Jeff chuckles. “I didn’t really have a say in the matter.
” He wouldn’t have sold it even if he needed the money, or the space.
It belonged to his best friend. Their friendship was one I always admired.
A loyalty that was far beyond anything I’ve ever witnessed.
“He wanted you to have it,” Jeff adds, nodding toward the keys in my hand.
My heart aches at the thought. “Why?” I ask.
He shrugs before adding… “Because he knew you would understand what it meant to have it.” That answer doesn’t explain anything but somehow explains everything.
I smile. “Thank you, Jeff.”
He inclines his head slightly, patting my shoulder.
“You know where to find me,” he says, turning and walking out of the garage, leaving me alone with my feelings and the car.
It feels like all I have done lately is watch people walk away from me.
For once I wish someone would stay. I circle the car once before opening the door.
Taking it and letting it settle deep as I pull it open and slide into the driver’s seat.
The smell hits me first. Not the leather, or oil, or the musk, but him.
Faint, but there, nonetheless. His favorite aftershave, and the only one he’s ever worn all my life.
I rest my hands on the steering wheel, curling my fingers loosely around it, closing my eyes, and resting my head against it.
It’s like I can feel him here with me. Not like an empty feeling of death, but a feeling that he’s somewhere else.
I swallow hard, focusing on the task at hand.
I pull out my phone, typing in the address from the paper.
The screen buffers for a minute, mapping out the route.
It’s not anywhere near here. Good. I don’t want this to be a quick trip.
The engine turns over smoothly the instant I turn the key.
The hum of the engine echoes loud between the walls.
Fourteen hours. That’s how long it’ll take me to get there.
I’m not sure what I will be walking into, or what he left me way up there, and I am entirely nervous all at the same time.
I shift the car in reverse, allowing the vibrations to soothe me as I back out of the garage, and head toward my destination.