Chapter 5
“Let me get this straight.” I drum my fingers on the countertop, chastising myself because I should have gone to the school first. I should have begun this journey with a positive and not this big, heaping scoop of cow dung. “You can’t fix my car?”
“Well, no.” For the first time, Arlo looks sheepish, running his hands through his hair and messing up the small ponytail that keeps it off his face.
Today, he’s wearing a stained black shirt, the dark color an attempt to hide the oil stains.
“How many people did you pass on the way in who drove a Volkswagen bug?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I shriek before calming my nerves and taking a breath.
“Not one of them drives anything other than a truck that I can fix.” A blush stains his cheeks before he admits, “I’m not certified to fix a Volkswagen.”
I rub my temples, easing the headache I feel pulsating behind my eyes.
“What do I do?” I ask him softly. My stomach tightens with nerves.
At first, this felt like a fun adventure, when I thought my car wouldn’t take long to fix.
Now my choice of a vehicle strands us in a town where we don’t know anyone aside from the two people who helped us out so far.
I don’t even have all of our things, just the bare essentials.
Our pod is probably at my brother’s house with all of our belongings.
It holds my complete wardrobe and our entire life, including all of Lark’s baby pictures. I swallow back my tears. I really didn’t think this was a possibility.
“Hey.” Arlo reaches out, grabbing one of my hands and squeezing gently.
It’s a move his mom offered Lark not that long ago, and one he now gives me.
That strange pulse of comfort warms my blood and sends a shiver across my skin, though I’m not cold.
Not in here, in his garage, with the heat blasting me hard enough to make my hair tickle my face. “I’ll figure this out, I promise.”
I angrily swipe at a rogue tear that jumps out of my eye and onto my cheek—a physical representation of vulnerability that angers me. I nod before swallowing my pride and blowing out a breath. “All right, how?”
“That’s the spirit.” He grins at me before it falls flat and he pulls his hand back. “I have a few ideas, but you won’t like the answers, so I need you to be at your best.” He reaches under the counter and pulls out a brown paper bag and two to-go cups of coffee.
“Oh no.” Lark hops up from the plastic chair, snatching up a cup with her name on the front. “Hot chocolate?” She frowns at the cup as I snatch my normal cup of black coffee. “Mom is easily subdued with gifts. You learn quickly.”
“I resent that.” I sip the bitter liquid as I peek into the bag, finding not one, but two oversized chocolate chip muffins with that sugar coating that gives it the perfect crunch. “Oh, you’re good.”
“I had to prepare for the backlash.” He itches behind his ear, not wanting to meet my gaze.
“Spill it.” Besides, how much worse can it get?
“Option one. I have the closest Volkswagen mechanic tow your bug out there.” Again, he scratches behind his ear. “But it’s going to cost a couple thousand, and that’s on top of whatever repairs you need.”
“Next.” I grab the muffin and dig in with the force of a velociraptor, scattering crumbs all over the counter.
“A friend of mine is a Volkswagen mechanic out of Philadelphia. He’s willing to come out here and fix it.”
“Again, for a price, I assume?” I get it. Honestly, I would expect the same.
“It’ll probably cost more than option one.” He leans back, gripping the countertop tightly.
“Is there a third option?” I keep drumming my fingers on the counter.
“There’s a third option.”
I take another vicious bite of my muffin and glare at Arlo.
“You won’t like it.”
“I didn’t like the other options that cost me more money than I have.” I spent all of my money on this move, I have nothing left. Not even a career.
“They were the shorter options though.” This time he leans on the countertop, taking me in with his piercing blue gaze.
“You’re delaying.”
“Because you’re an easy read, Birdie, and I know you won’t like this.”
I pause with my muffin halfway to my mouth. Am I easy to read? Yes, yes, I am. “Rip the Band-Aid off, my knight in flannel armor.”
“I’ve been toying with the idea of getting certified to be a Volkswagen mechanic, but I had no reason to.” He pauses, eyeing me for some kind of reaction, and when he doesn’t get one, he pushes forward. “That same friend will help that happen.”
“How?” If there are no options nearby, then how is this even an option?
“The internet.”
“The internet?” I parrot, punctuating each word carefully.
“Yeah, see, there’s this incredible invention where you can call someone over the internet and see them.”
I toss a chocolate chip at his head. “Carry on.”
“Right, so he’s willing to make it happen. I already know most things, I just need the specific training, and that’s where you come in.”
“Me?” I question around a mouthful of muffin.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” He steals my muffin for a moment. “I need your complete attention.”
I grab my coffee. “You have it, carry on.”
“I’d use your car as a learning tool.”
“You want to learn on my car?” I was not expecting this.
“No one else has a Volkswagen for me to learn on, so yes, your car.”
“Does it mean it gets fixed?”
“Yes, and…” He trails off. “I’ll do the labor for free if you purchase the parts you damaged when avoiding mother moose.”
I roll my eyes at the mention of mother moose. “So it’s the cheapest option.” I nod. “I like this option.”
“You won’t like it.”
“Give it to me.”
“The training is eleven weeks, maybe longer since it will be virtual.” He rushes the words out in one string where they melt together. “Unless, of course, I figure out what is wrong with it sooner,” he tacks on.
“Repeat that.” I snatch my muffin back, using the chocolate for comfort.
“Three months.”
“That’s… That’s…” I back up slowly and flop down on the seat beside Lark. “February.”
“About that, it gets worse.”
“How does it get worse?” I shriek, and Lark pats my thigh in support.
“Yeah, winter here isn’t a normal winter. You’re from the South, right?”
“I didn’t tell you where I was from.”
“Your accent” —he waves a finger around his face— “gave it away.”
“Right.” How is this even my life right now? “Okay, what’s the winter like?” He isn’t wrong. Until yesterday, the only snow I’ve ever seen was on the postcards my brother sent me.
“We’re talking blizzard-like winters.”
“Really?” Lark’s excitement opposes my trepidation. This was not the plan. Lark taps my thigh. “Mom, it’s an adventure.” And there she goes, throwing my words right back at me.
“An adventure.” I run my hands down my face, feeling the dry skin pull as I do so. I glance down at my little bird, knowing that this move was hard enough on her. It’s always been the two of us, taking on the world. “What are you thinking, kid?”
She shrugs her delicate little shoulders as her signature half smirk rises while she takes in Arlo’s shop.
I try to see what she does—the black, white, and red color scheme with a fifties feel.
It doesn’t feel like Arlo, and it’s because I don’t really know the man.
When we walked in, I was surprised by the clean lines and the big bubble gum machine that Lark ran to.
She was even more excited that she didn’t need a quarter—free gumballs.
“I want to find a home.” Her admission sends a pang straight to my heart.
I thought we had found a home in Atlanta. Both Lark and I were born and raised there, and I never veered too far from the city—moving from one borough to the next didn’t count. Grandma raised my brother and me, and though her home was ours, that isn’t what made it home, she did.
When she died, she took that feeling away, leaving a gaping hole in her wake. She left me to pull the edges of that wound back together and sew it closed. Though that wound has long since healed, Lark and I have done nothing but wander around.
Eric gave us the illusion of home with his warm smile, but that feeling never blossomed.
Through the lump in my throat, I reply, “I want to find home too, kiddo.”
“I think this place could be good for us.” She peers up at me with intelligence shining in her brown eyes.
“Oh, and why is that?”
“We’ve lived in the city our whole life. Always on the go. This adventure could be just what we need.”
“An adventure that might just last until spring,” I remind her.
“It can.”
“How about this,” Arlo interjects. “I’ll do my best to make this as easy as possible on you, and if the car isn’t ready by Christmas, I will personally drive you to your destination.”
Lark frowns at him. Her little heart is already set on staying here until spring. “I don’t know.”
“Why don’t we play this by ear?” I suggest. Though this all sounds well and good, there are a few things to hash out. “Why don’t you head over to the school and check it out? I’ll meet up with you in a moment.”
“Why didn’t you just say you wanted to talk to Arlo alone?”
“I’d like to talk to Arlo alone.”
“See? That wasn’t hard.” I wait until she heads out, the bells on the door tinkling in her wake.
I want to curse, scream, and cry all at once. “Eleven weeks.”
“I’m really sorry, Birdie.” His lips purse with genuine sadness for me.
“Know anyone hiring for temp work?”
“It’s almost Christmas, so I’m sure someone is.” He leans against the counter again, and there’s a softness to him that wasn’t there before. I’m calling it pity.
I snort. We had plans to spend Christmas with my brother this year. That’s a phone call I’ll have to make sooner rather than later. We don’t even have a home.
“What did you do for work in Atlanta?”
“Everything.” I go back to picking at my muffin, knowing I’m going to have to call my brother once I leave here. I’m not looking forward to that. “After high school, I worked menial jobs no one else wanted—maid, server, asparagus picker.”