Chapter Eleven
Holden
Homer and Shelby were two of those complainers, which had Steve and me out on the roads servicing any emergency calls for dump trucks and highway snowplows that we’d received during the first few weeks of January.
Very little construction or roadwork was being done around Baltimore due to the snow, sleet, and freezing temperatures, so Homer and Shelby were servicing our contract customers, going to construction headquarters to maintain their vehicles since they weren’t being used on job sites.
Steve and I had taken a call from a ski resort in The Poconos to service and repair the tracks on three of their massive snowplows. Those fuckers were huge.
The rest of our calls were fleet calls—replacing snow tires or fixing flats from ill-fitting chains for our long-haul customers. The boring stuff.
Thankfully, most of our calls were during the day, so we weren’t out risking our lives on the frozen roads around Baltimore after dark.
I thought about making a reservation at one of the ski lodges in Pennsylvania for Valentine’s Day to give me something to do.
Then, I remembered it was my sister’s birthday and I’d be spending a couple of days with my family down in Manassas.
I strategized how to talk my parents into seeing a grief counselor and concluded I’d rather walk through a sticker bush naked.
Hell, maybe I should tell them I’d gone to a therapist to try to get through the loss.
The doctor told me the reason I’m not looking for a relationship is because I’m afraid to get close to anyone for fear of losing them, too. It made sense to me.
During our first session, Dr. Thomas said, “Holden, you’ve built walls around your feelings to protect your heart. You’ll never find peace until you productively grieve your loss and find closure.”
I’d disagreed vehemently. The whole time he spoke during my first appointment, I’d wondered if he liked pancakes or waffles for breakfast once I could get him into my bed.
After seeing the picture of Dr. Thomas with his pretty wife and their twins, I started listening to the good doctor and doing the work he’d suggested—journaling between sessions and then talking about what I’d written—which helped me accept that Holly was gone.
I still wasn’t thrilled with journaling, but I had a dozen notebooks in my closet that documented my healing journey.
It took a few years—and more than a few sessions—to get to that place.
Even with all of that writing about feelings, which I hated doing, some days were still harder than others.
When something happened that I wanted to share with my sister, I still got smacked in the face with the reality that she wouldn’t answer when I called, but I no longer became an angry mess.
I sat in front of my garage door as it lifted, grateful the day was over. I needed a hot shower, a bowl of chicken soup that I’d made on Sunday, and something mindless on television to unwind after a long day.
Once I parked the truck, I went inside through the mud room and took off my boots and dirty coveralls, hanging them to dry. They were mostly wet from the snow, but I could still get another few days out of them before they needed to go into the laundry over the weekend.
As I stepped into the kitchen, my cell phone rang somewhere. I patted myself down and remembered it was in my coveralls. Thankfully, I hadn’t tossed them in the washer without thinking. I’d done that twice before, and it was starting to become an expensive habit not to check the pockets.
Without looking at the screen, I answered, hoping like hell it wasn’t someone in an emergency. “Tire and Track Rescue, Rose speaking.”
My partners each had a work cell and a personal cell. It was too much trouble for me to juggle two phones, so I used my personal number for business.
“Uh, Holden? It’s me, Avery.”
Avery? Avery, the hot guy! “Hi, Avery. How’ve you been?”
My heart picked up a little at the idea of talking to him.
I’d been disappointed that he hadn’t called me sooner, but I was trying not to think about it too much.
It didn’t seem as if anything was going to happen between us, and I’d had high hopes, even though I was a little concerned about the age difference.
I could have called him, but maybe it was those damn walls trying to resurrect themselves.
I just blocked him out of my mind and went on with my life.
“I’ve been busy, but I guess you have too. I’m sorry about not calling you to make plans for New Year’s Day brunch. I was hoping maybe we could get together for a drink at your convenience. I’d like to talk to you about something.” His voice sounded shaky—like he was uncertain.
“Sure. Is there something I can help you with? Did everything work out with your roommate’s car?”
“Uh, yeah. I mean, sort of. It’s better if we talk about stuff in person. It’s complicated.” That wasn’t exactly good news.
“Okay. How about Friday night? There’s a pub on North Charles Street that’s about midway between our places. You wanna meet there?” I gave him the name and the address.
“That sounds good. How’s six o’clock for you?”
“You sure you don’t just wanna tell me now? I’m not long on patience. It’s not that I don’t want to meet you for a drink, but if I know what you want to talk about, I can figure out how to help you before we meet.” I wasn’t good with surprises.
Avery sighed. “I honestly don’t think I could explain it over the phone, Holden. I’ll see you Friday night.”
He hung up. I now had two days to stew on what he wanted to talk about. That sucked more than it should.
“What’s got you in such a pissy mood?” Steve asked when we finished repairing a tire on a tower crane.
It had been intentionally slashed on a job site in Wilhelm Park where a rent-controlled apartment building was being refurbished. The crane was there to assist in loading supplies and installing new HVAC systems on top of the ten story building. The destruction was ridiculous.
“This,” I said as I stood and pointed to the damage that had been done to the crane. “There was no need to do this. This crane is here to help remodel this building to create affordable housing for those in need. Why the fuck would someone do something as mean as this?”
Steve picked up the handle of the small generator and gathered the tools we’d used to patch the tire until the crane operator could bring down the boom so we could jack it up and change it completely. In the twenty-degree temperatures, that patch wouldn’t hold too long.
“My friend, there are no easy answers, and while this is a waste of time and money, someone has an axe to grind over something. That’s not our concern, and that’s not what’s got you upset. You can’t lie to me, Holden. You were pissed off when you showed up at the garage this morning.”
He had a point. “You bastard. You know I can’t lie to you. Remember the guy I told you about? Avery Langhorn? He was the one who had that accident with the semi when he was on the way back from Virginia. He called me last night.”
“What did he want?” Steve made kissy sounds, the jackass.
“I wish, but I doubt it. He sounded scared about something. I’m supposed to meet him for drinks tonight at The Pirates Cove. He wants to discuss something with me.”
Steve chuckled. “Is it what size condom you need?”
Not laughing was impossible. “You mother fucker. It’s not like that.”
“Though you’d like it to be?” Steve stared at me.
Fuck it. “Yeah, I’d like it to be, but the guy gives off mixed signals. Anyway, I’m worried about what’s going on with him. Can you talk to Shelby and Homer about covering for me tonight? I’ll take the rest of the weekend for them.”
“Naw. I’ll cover it. I think I owe it to ya. You’ve covered for me when I was getting divorced, so I’ll take care of anything that comes in tonight, Holden.”
Steve’s ex-wife cheated on him and cleaned out their house and bank account. I floated him for a while because he didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t like I had anything else going on.
Steve was a great guy. Always had been and always would be.
“Thanks, Steve.”
We loaded up and headed back to the garage.
Was I ready for whatever Avery Langhorn wanted to discuss? Who the hell knew! I went back and forth regarding our brief encounters, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out if I’d done something to make him uneasy. I hoped not.
Friday afternoon was slow at the garage, so we were cleaning up the messes we’d made over the last few months.
We always found something else to do instead of cleaning and organizing when things were busy.
When we needed to gather tools for an emergency job, it took too long to get everything loaded to get on the road, so we were remedying that issue.
Steve was winding the compressor cord around the hooks on the side of the machine when he stopped and turned to Homer. “From now on, take the two minutes when you’re leaving a job site to wrap the cords, will you?”
Homer laughed. “You need to find a woman, Steve. You’re a cranky bastard.”
“Fuck you, Homer. Just for that, you’re gonna be on call with me tonight.”
Shelby, who was organizing wrenches, burst into raucous laughter. “He gotcha, Homer.” She continued laughing as she wiped off the work bench.
Steve turned to me. “Holden, go on home. I know you’ve got something going on tonight, so we’ll finish this up.”
“You sure? I can stay for a while.” I really wanted to leave, but I was an owner and owed it to my partners to do my part.
“Go on, Holden.” Homer chuckled.
I would eternally be grateful to my partners for their understanding when it came to me and my bullshit. They were a rare breed.
“Thanks, guys. I’ll see you on Monday. Thanks, Steve, for helping me out.” I truly appreciated everything my partners did for each other. They were there for me when I needed them, which was a nice thing to know.
“Anytime, Holden.” Steve squeezed my shoulder.
Once I was home, I quickly showered and shaved. I wanted to look nice for the meet-up with Avery. I promised myself I wouldn’t get my hopes up, but that little voice in the back of my mind told me not to give up…yet.
I arrived at Pirates Cove fifteen minutes before Avery was supposed to meet me. The nerves were killing me, but I needed to get my shit together. I wanted to explore whether anything could happen between Avery and me, and this was a good chance to explore the possibility.
The parking lot was crowded, which was typical for a Friday night.
After parking in the back row, I strolled into the bar side of the restaurant, looking for the man who had haunted my dreams and brought me to climax more than I wanted to admit.
His eyes had kept me awake at night, but I didn’t hate fantasizing about what could be.
As I scanned the bar, I saw Avery in the corner at a high top, glancing around. Maybe he was searching for me? I made my way through the room and stopped at the table, surprised to see his worried expression.
“Avery, it’s good to see you.”
He jumped a bit as he met my gaze. “Holden, it’s so good to see you, as well. I’m sorry I didn’t each out—”
“No. No, people get busy, and honestly, we don’t know each other very well. It’s fine. How have you been?”
It was obvious something was off. Avery was an odd young man, just saying things out loud that I didn’t understand. I wasn’t about to ask if he was on the autism spectrum. It didn’t matter to me. There was something about him that drew me in and nothing else mattered.
“I’ve been busy, as I’m sure you have. What would you like to drink?” I held my hand up to get the attention of a server.
“I’ll have an IPA,” Avery responded, bringing a smile from me.
The server stopped at our table with sexy smile. “I’m Tyler. What can I get for you two?”
“Hello, Tyler. We’d like two IPAs, please.” Tyler smiled and hurried away.
I picked up one of the menus Tyler had left behind and handed it to Avery. “Are you—?”
He brushed it away and stared at me, though his eyes seemed a bit wild.
“I hate to ask, but I need a favor. I can’t explain why I know certain things or why I want you to do this, but can someone in your family contact the United Network for Organ Sharing?
Can you ask to allow the recipients of your sister’s organs to receive contact information if they want to ask questions about her? ”
That was out of the fucking blue. “What? You want me to do what? What the hell do you know about my sister’s death?”
Avery took a breath before he spoke. “I realize it sounds crazy, Holden. I’m sure you think I’ve lost my mind or I’m a grifter, but maybe your parents can request the identity of the recipient of Happy’s heart?
Will you ask them to open the lines of communication between your family and Happy’s recipient? ”
I nearly fell off the damn chair. Happy? It had been my sister’s nickname. She’d always been a joyful child, and my dad had called her Happy since she was a baby.
“I shouldn’t have started with that. I’m sorry for blurting it out. Before I give away what I’ve learned, I want you to confirm things with UNOS and your parents.” He suddenly lifted his shirt to show me a scar in the center of his chest. That was odd behavior.
I blinked in shock. “Confirm what things?”