Chapter 7
T he next day at 10 a.m. on the dot, there was a knock at my door. I was expecting to see Stuart when I pulled it open, but it was only Lex standing there, hands stuffed in his pockets.
“Ready?” he asked. No smile. No hello.
“Yes,” I said, looking around behind him. “Where’s Stuart?”
“He couldn’t make it. Said his IBS was flaring up from all the Thai food.”
“Wow, that’s…. TMI.” I was trying very hard to think of anything else besides Stuart’s IBS. “You don’t have to bring me, though. I know you said you had work to do. I can just call a taxi or an Uber.”
He shrugged. “If you want,” he replied noncommittally. “But since I’m already here, we might as well stick to the original plan.”’
I scrutinized him for a moment, trying to figure out what his motivations might be, but then I decided I was overthinking it. “Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”
I followed him to his vehicle, thinking the whole way that I could still make a run for it. Against my better judgment, I got in the car and just hoped for the best.
“Where are we heading?” he asked.
“I looked up a few places last night. There’s a used car dealership called Esteban’s Auto Sales on Monterrey that seemed to have a good selection.”
He plugged it into his GPS and pulled out on the roadway without another word.
“How’s work in the lab going so far?” I asked, casting out the conversational line, hoping to reel in something pleasant.
“Fine.”
And with that response, let the awkward games begin.
“What about your classes? Stuart was telling me they’re packed.”
“Yes, they’re full.”
Internal sigh.
“So, Strovinski… That’s Polish, right?”
“Yes.”
And he wins! Firstplace for the most awkward car ride goes to Alexsander Strovinski. The silence seemed to drag on and on until I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to do something.
I sucked in a sharp breath. “Ow,” I said, clutching at my lower back. “Oww. OWWW!”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, startled.
“It’s my back. It just started hurting all of a sudden.” I massaged the spot. “OUCH!” I called out, putting my hand on the dashboard.
He pulled over onto the side of the road. “Might be a kidney stone. I’ll turn around.”
“No, that’s not it,” I said, peeking over at him. “I think it’s just hurting from having to carry this whole conversation.”
He stopped the car and was staring over at me in disbelief. I couldn’t help it. I immediately broke out into laughter.
“That was a terrible joke,” he said, but he had a slight smile on his face as he said it.
“Well, it is painful trying to talk to you right now. Like pulling teeth. I promise that despite what you may think, I’m really not that terrible of a person.”
His eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “I never said you were.”
“Then let’s do this... Let’s small talk,” I said, giving him my warmest smile.
He held my gaze wordlessly for a moment, then sighed. “Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
As he pulled back out onto the roadway, he began to talk. “Let’s see… the lab work is always stressful. Trying to coordinate a team of people, most of whom have become close friends after working together for so long, adds an extra layer of difficulty.”
He looked over at me, and I smiled encouragingly at him to continue.
“I’ve never had to teach classes before, but so far, I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying it. I’m also grateful that my classes have seemed to garner so much attention. And lastly, my father was from Poland and my mother is from Russia.”
It was like he was going down a mental checklist of everything I had asked. It was the longest I’d heard him speak besides the speech he made at faculty night. I decided to go with the last little piece of information he gave in his info dump. I noticed he said his father was Polish and his mother is Russian.
“Are your parents still living?”
“My mother is, but my father died in a car accident when I was two,” he said, confirming my suspicions.
“I’m sorry to hear that. My father died too, when I was eight… Drug overdose.”
I didn’t tell many people how my father died, so I didn’t know why I was sharing. Even though he’d been acting as if I were harboring some highly contagious disease, for some reason, I just innately knew I could trust him. Maybe it was his reserved nature. He was probably holding a lot of people’s secrets in that giant brain of his.
“Anyway, he was this larger-than-life guy and an amazing father, but he had his demons.”
He looked over at me thoughtfully before speaking. “I don’t remember mine.”
I studied him. “I’m sure you remember some things.”
“No. Episodic memories don’t convert to long-term memories until much later in childhood when the hippocampus and frontoparietal regions of the brain are more developed.”
Wow. Okay then .
“I just meant that even if you don’t have perfect recall of the events from your childhood, it doesn’t mean your heart doesn’t remember him,” I explained. “You might not remember exact details, but I’m sure he still loved you, still held you in his arms. That bond doesn’t just go away. My memories of my dad have definitely faded over the years, but I always remember how he made me feel—loved, cherished. There must be something similar for you.”
He stared out at the road ahead of us, brow furrowed in concentration.
“I suppose you’re right,” he finally said. “Though I don’t think I feel his absence as acutely as you feel your father’s.”
I thought he was probably right about that. I was painfully aware of my father’s absence from my life and still thought about him almost every single day. I wished I could call him and hear his voice just one more time. More than anything, I wished I had him to lean on, especially now. It might have been a little easier if we were going through this whole thing with my mom together as a family.
If we didn’t switch gears soon, I was definitely going to start crying. We were venturing too far away from small talk.
I straightened. “So, how did your family end up in the US?”
“My mother and I moved here when I was ten. My mother’s sister left Russia to come to the US a few years before we did. When the conflict in Russia started getting worse, my aunt begged my mom to get out and bring me here.”
“Is this the Cher-loving aunt?”
The side of his mouth reluctantly turned up into a half grin. “Yes, that’s the one.”
“And do you see her here now, Lex?” I asked with my best therapist-like voice.
“HA-HA,” he said with an eye roll for good measure. “She’s real, I promise. Her name is Polina and she lives in Santa Barbara with her husband Stan.”
“Sure, whatever you say.” I gave him a doubtful look, and a smile tugged at his expression again. “And you didn’t leave until you were ten?That must have been really hard for a ten-year-old,” I remarked.
“It was definitely a big adjustment for us.”
“Do you still speak Russian?”I asked curiously.
“Konechno.”
“I’m going to assume you said yes and not F-off.”
He grinned. “I said of course .” His tone was light with humor. “I really only get to practice with my mother and aunt regularly. Otherwise, I’m sure I would have forgotten it.”
“It’s crazy that you came here at ten years old but don’t seem to have any kind of accent at all.”
“Ten-year-olds from Chicago aren’t the nicest kids in the world. I had to adapt pretty quickly so I’d stop having my face beaten in.”
“I bet.” I could only imagine how much he was probably picked on.
“We’re here,” he announced.
He pulled into the gravel driveway of a parking lot with the sign labeled Esteban’s Auto Sales . We were approached almost immediately by a salesman in a clean gray suit.
“Hola, amigos!” He greeted us in a thick Spanish accent. “My name is Rodrigo. How can I help you today?”
“I’m looking for a used car,” I told him. “I’m not especially picky. Just something reliable and preferably with low mileage.”
“I’m sure that we can find you something. What is your name, hermosa?”
“I’m Hadley, and this is Lex.”
“Such a beautiful couple. I’m sure we’ll find the perfect car for the perfect couple,” he said, laying it on thick.
“We’re not—” Lex started to say, but I cut him off.
“Thank you. That would be great,” I said, looping my arm through Lex’s.
We followed behind Rodrigo toward the corner of the lot, and I kept my arm wrapped around Lex’s. I tried not to register the warmth of his skin or the curve of his muscles pressed against my nonexistent ones.
“What are you doing?” he asked, low enough so only I heard.
“Just go with it,” I whispered. “Men always respond better if they think another man is involved in the purchase of a vehicle. Otherwise, he’ll think I’m easy prey.”
“Now this one would be perfect for you.” Rodrigo stopped and pointed to a gray Nissan Altima. “It’s got great gas mileage and is only eight years old.”
We both circled the car once before Lex popped the hood open to inspect the engine. I slid into the driver’s seat to check out the more important features, like how many cup holders and USB ports there were.
“What do you think, snookums?” I asked Lex, who raised an eyebrow at me but didn’t comment on his new nickname.
“Well, there’s oil on the engine.” He swiped his finger across it, coming up with a black stain. “And the spark plugs look like they’re in really bad shape.”
I was suddenly really grateful that Lex was here because there wasn’t a chance in hell I would have noticed any of that even if I had bothered to pop the hood.
“Oh my! We’ll definitely have to have the mechanic take a look,” Rodrigo said, trying his best to look shocked but not quite pulling it off.
“Your husband has a good eye,” he said. “It is your husband, yes?”
I looked adoringly toward Lex. “Fiancé, actually. We just got engaged last month. Had to get the ring sent off to get resized.” I held out my hand and looked longingly at my empty ring finger.
“So lovely,” he said. “You are a lucky man, amigo.”
He turned to bring us to more vehicles, and I giggled at the dismayed look on Lex’s face. He would make a terrible actor.
“Now this one,” Rodrigo said, pointing to a midnight blue Chevy Impala. “This one I know has been through a thorough inspection and is in great condition. You wouldn’t need to worry about your wife driving this one around. She’d be very safe.”
Lex looked at him doubtfully but didn’t respond.
“Thank you, Rodrigo,” I said. “My sugar bear would just be beside himself if I were to get stranded on the side of the road.” I leaned my head against Lex’s shoulder, and he went stiff as a board.
“I can assure you this one is perfectly safe, senorita.”
We performed the same ritual of Lex looking under the hood while I checked out the interior. I really, really liked this one. I stuck my head out the window ready for the verdict as Lex slammed the hood back down.
“This one looks fine,” Lex announced.
I couldn’t contain my excitement. “Awesome! Let’s take it for a test drive.”
Rodrigo clapped his hands together. “Fantástico! I’ll get you the keys.”
As he left to go get the keys, I told Lex, “Come on, get in.”
I ran my hands over the steering wheel and checked out more of the car’s gadgets while Lex slid into the passenger seat. Rodrigo came back with the keys and told us the best route to take.
As we buckled our seat belts, Lex turned to me. “Sugar bear?” he asked, obviously still mulling over his new nickname.
I batted my eyelashes at him. “Yes, sweetums?”
He shook his head. “There’s no way this guy believes we’re a couple.”
“No thanks to you. You could try to be a little more convincing there, Strovinski.”
He sighed. “Alright, let’s just take this thing for a test drive. Hopefully, he’s not trying to pass off another lemon on you.”
We made the loop around the block and everything seemed fine as far as I could tell. I was still a little nervous there might be something I was missing, so I made Lex switch places with me and drive it the rest of the way back to the dealership.
“Everything seems okay,” Lex said as we pulled up. “But maybe you should have a mechanic look at it before you buy it.”
“I don’t really have time for that. I’d like to have a car before my mom’s first chemo appointment so that I can take her.”
Something gentled in his expression as he looked over at me. “Okay. But let’s check out a few more. And try not to look so excited about this one when we get out.”
I gave him a quick salute. “Yes, sir.”
“Well, what did you think, my friends?” Rodrigo said as soon as we stepped out of the car.
“We’re interested, but we’d like to see a few more,” Lex said, answering for “us.”
We walked around for twenty more minutes or so and test drove a smaller Honda Civic, but I knew I wanted the Impala.
“Alright, let’s go see what kind of deal we can get,” Lex told me.
We went inside while Rodrigo gave us his best sales pitch on why we were getting a great deal on the Impala. “And as you can see, this car is in great condition. I spoke with my boss, and the lowest we can go is $6,000.”
“That’s over what the Blue Book even puts it at,” Lex said sharply. “There is no way we’re paying that.”
Another Hispanic gentleman walked up, having heard the tail end of what Lex had just said.
“Hello, my name is Miguel Diaz. I am the manager here at Esteban’s. I saw you guys looking at the blue Impala. A very nice choice.”
“Yes, and I was just telling your colleague here that there is no way we are paying $6,000 when the Blue Book lists it at $5,500 in great condition.”
“Which it is, I can assure you, sir.”
I remained quiet, letting Lex take the lead. I hated this kind of stuff. I probably would have just forked over the six grand. When did he even have time to look up the Blue Book value?
The two gentlemen started speaking Spanish to one another, going back and forth for a few minutes while we waited quietly. When they seemed to be reaching the end of their conversation, Lex all of a sudden jumped in rattling off a stream of full-blown, fluent Spanish.
My head whipped around towards him, my eyes widening as big as an owl's—Any more shocked, and I'd have been hooting. The stunned looks on their faces must have matched mine, and it was absolutely priceless. I felt a swell of affection for Lex in that moment and was beyond grateful for his presence.
Once the manager regained his composure, he smiled ruefully and said, “Okay, best offer is $4,000, and we’ll do an oil change and full tune-up. What do you say, my friends?”
I looked at Lex to see if he had any objection, and he tilted his head slightly as if to say it was my call, but he must have thought it was a good deal or else he would have said something.
“Yeah, that sounds great,” I said, unable to keep my enthusiasm under wraps.
“Excellent! Let’s go get all the paperwork signed.”
Lex stayed with me until all the Ts were crossed and the Is dotted. Rodrigo handed me the keys to my new, used car. I’d miss Marge, but I thought Agnes and I were going to get along just fine.
Together, Lex and I walked over to the Impala. Once we were out of earshot, I turned to him and said, “So I guess you speak Spanish, too?”
He smirked. “Didn’t I mention?”
I chuckled. “What were they saying?”
“They were just talking about what price they thought the dumb Americans would go for. They settled on $5,000 before I jumped in.”
I shook my head, grinning. “That was amazing.”
“It was nothing.”
I was so filled with gratitude that I threw my arms around him before I had the chance to think about what I was doing. He made an “oof” noise as I hugged him tightly, his arms pinned to his sides.
“Thank you, Lex,” I said sincerely. “I mean it. I don’t know what I would have done without you today.”
He patted me awkwardly on the back before I finally let go and wiped a tear that formed in the corner of my eye. My emotions were hardwired to my tear ducts. I had to stay somewhere between a four and a seven on the emotional scale. Too happy and I’m blubbering. Too sad and I’m sobbing. Couldn’t really manage to get embarrassed about it anymore. I just had to go with it as one of the many character flaws I possessed.
“You’re welcome. Glad I could help.” He put his hands back in his pockets, his cheeks burning a bright shade of red.
“I guess I’ll see you later then?” I sounded a little more hopeful than I intended.
“Yeah, see ya,” he said before turning and practically sprinting to his car.
I got into my new-used car and continued to wonder all the way home if Dr. Alexsander Strovinski really even liked me at all.