Chapter 2 #2
I always wondered what happened to him, figuring that he’d made a life for himself out in Europe and never thought once about coming back, even though I’d lie awake every night until I got accepted into trade school, wishing that he’d magically show up at my door.
Back then, I’d had a lot of wishful thinking surrounding my former best friend.
The pressure of being a growing teenager, soon-to-be young adult, while having a father like Avery’s wasn’t without its struggles.
I’d seen the news articles, the flamboyant magazine spreads and gossip columns with their salacious headlines, detailing a billionaire’s fall from grace slowly over the years.
It was such a spectacular spectacle to witness from the sidelines that I could never imagine actually living like Avery was forced to.
That was why I’d never grown angry for the decisions he’d ultimately made in staying away.
Who could really blame him, after all?
“Are you... in town for long?” I asked.
His shoulders deflated slowly. “I’m honestly not sure. I don’t know if you heard about my father passing away, but I’m here to settle his estate.”
“I did. I’m sorry to hear about that. How are you holding up?”
Avery shrugged. “Fine.”
Not that his answer was at all surprising. Even back then, Avery was never a fan of his father. “That’s good to hear. He leave you a lot to deal with?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Actually, that’s why I swung by. His lawyer mentioned that you may know some things about classic cars. Which, now that I know it’s you, I would say I’m in expert hands.”
I couldn’t help but smile a little bit at that.
It was a well known dream of mine back in the day that I’d wanted to buy and fix up old classic cars, turning them from rust buckets back to their former glory. Right before Avery had left for boarding school, I was in the process of saving up enough money to buy one from a junkyard two towns over.
Two months after Avery was gone, I bit the bullet and bought it. Worked on it for an entire year restoring it and fucking loved the entire process. It sold a year after that to an older gentleman who still, to this day, would send me pictures of him taking it down to Florida for the colder months.
“Didn’t know your dad was into classics,” I said. “What are they?”
“No idea. I haven’t gone over to look at them yet. They’re being stored at an off-property garage.”
Looking over at the clock on the wall, I noted I still had about two hours of the shop being open.
With no outstanding appointments for the day, I could essentially pack up and leave with him to go check out what exactly his dad had stored.
.. but something was telling me to pump the brakes, to take a step back and breathe before I got involved.
I wanted to. Damned if I wasn’t ready to leap over this fucking desk and grab Avery by the hand and march out that damn door. But getting too deep into anything with this man was a bad idea. Especially since he seemed like sticking around wasn’t exactly in his future plan.
Why do that to myself?
Judging by the way he looked, he clearly had a life he was going to eventually want to get back to.
“Unfortunately, I won’t be able to tell you anything without at least looking at a picture,” I said.
“Why don’t I shoot you some?” He pulled out his phone. “You can give me a rough estimation.”
I hesitated before I asked, even though I already knew the answer, “For what?”
“Obviously to sell.” He laughed.
Right.
Obviously.
Clearly Avery was looking forward to getting back to his life from before his father’s passing. Ridding himself of everything that could possibly tie him back to Ellington Heights was the plan, not heading down to Sack’s Bar to grab a beer and catch up like old times.
This man may have shared a life with me once long ago, but he was a stranger now. One that I had absolutely no idea about.
“You can send them to my email.” Frankly, not giving out my phone number was more for my sake than his. Having the ability to text him whenever was setting myself up for failure.
“Oh.” He looked surprised, though he recovered quickly. “Yeah, of course. Just type it in here and I’ll send them your way.”
When he slid the phone over to me, a contact entry for me was already pulled up. Right below my name was my old landline that had been out of use for well over a decade. I hesitated upon seeing it, my fingers twitching over the phone’s screen.
Why keep that?
What was the point?
Nostalgia?
Rationalizing any of this was stupid. Yet I knew for a fact that the second my head hit the pillow and sleep refused to claim me tonight, this goddamn contact was going to haunt me.
My fingers felt clunky as I typed in the shop’s email.
After a few long seconds, I finally returned the phone to him.
“Take as many pictures as you can. I’ll let you know what I think and then we can go from there.
If they’re in good shape, I do have a few buyers that I know who are always looking to add to their collections. ”
Avery smiled. “Of course. Thanks again, Brandon. It was really good seeing you.”
Yeah, I wished I could say the same.
Thankfully, another customer parking in front of my shop and coming in through the front door saved me for the second time today. As the door alarm chimed, Avery backed away from the counter; his promise to contact me was soon lost in the complaints of my new customer filling the small space.
I watched him through the window as he climbed into his sports car—an Audi series, of course—and pulled away from my shop, disappearing into the slow moving traffic.
Avery McAllister being back in town was an omen I’d never been expecting. Spelling the downfall of my entire life if I wasn’t careful enough.