Now #2
As I drive through my hometown, it’s hard not to think of all the moments Jax and I had here.
Especially when I pass in front of the old theater that closed years ago.
Or the garage where I used to help him work on his car.
As I always do when I pass by it, I glance at it, either out of habit or sentimentality.
When a splash of electric blue catches my attention, I do a double take. “No way …” I breathe out.
Needing to confirm that my eyes aren’t deceiving me, I make a quick U-turn and pull into the garage’s parking lot.
I step out and walk toward the car that has all my attention. Three men are working at their stations, and when one of them approaches, I signal him I’m good.
In awe, I walk all the way to the Subaru Impreza WRX. It’s the same model from 1995, with the exact shade of blue.
“Is that you, old girl?” I whisper, letting my hand graze the curve between the hood and the fender.
Jackson made the decision to sell Winifred before we left for Indiana so we could pay for everything. He had another car by then, but it was still a very hard decision to make.
Could this really be Jackson’s old car?
I’m still trying to figure it out when a mechanic comes out of the office, wearing a navy blue tracksuit tied at his hips and a tank top covered in grease smears. When I look up, my breath catches in my throat.
Jackson pauses in his tracks and stares at me with the same surprise I feel, each wondering if this is a trick of our minds.
He looks bigger than he used to. Broader.
Stronger. The muscles in his arms are tight, veins woven under the light brown skin covered in tattoos, and his neck is thick, probably from all the training that allows him to withstand the 5G turns during races.
“What are you doing here?” he asks first.
“I was visiting my mom. Well, I was going home from visiting her, and I saw this. Is this … Winifred?”
He nods and comes closer. “I found her in an impound lot three years ago. The asshole I sold her to totaled her and never came back for her.”
“Oh no, Winnie …” I walk around the car, searching for damage, but find nothing. “I take it you’re done working on the body?”
“Yeah. My brother helped me with that. It’s not my strong suit. But I’m on my own for the engine.”
“He can’t help you?”
“He can, but I wanted to do it myself. Like old times.”
I hesitate, looking at the car, the tool cabinet nearby, and Jax again. “Does this mean you don’t need me to hang around and help you out?”
The ghost of a grin dances on his full lips. “Even more like old times … Are you up for it?”
“Yeah, I think I remember everything.”
While Jackson lifts the hood, I roll up the sleeves of my blouse. Standing by his side, I bend over to look at the exposed components.
“So, what do you have left to do?”
“Not much. It took me a lot longer than it should have because I tried to save as much of the original engine as I could. My brother received the intake manifold last week, so I thought I’d work on that this afternoon.”
“I don’t see the exhaust one. Do you not have it yet?”
“No, it’s coming directly from Subaru in Japan. By fucking foot, it seems.”
I laugh. “You should have brought it back yourself. It would have been faster.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think of that when I ordered it months ago.”
For about three hours, we work together on our old blue friend. While the moment has me traveling back in time, I’m also very aware of the present. This is us now, not just then. We get along better than we did at the end of our marriage, and I’m not entirely sure what to make of it.
Have we matured? Or have our feelings for one another lessened so much that we don’t feel the need to fight over everything?
Once we’re out of things to do, we stand side by side, admiring our handiwork. His handiwork, really—all I did was pass him the tools and hold whatever needed holding.
As he closes the hood again, I look at Winnie with mixed emotions. “I’m glad you saved her,” I say, genuinely happy about it.
“Me too. A lot of things happened in this car.”
“You robbed a liquor store,” I humor.
“Winnie and I were criminals just that one time.”
“You won your first SCCA race ever.”
“I did. And then many after that as well.”
I hesitate only for a second before adding, “I lost my virginity in this car, too.”
Something shifts in his unique gaze. My words awaken a need that probably should have stayed asleep, but I’m not sure I mind. “I remember,” Jackson answers, his voice suddenly low. “I’m the one who took it.”
Silence follows, but we don’t need words. Not when our eyes say so much.
“Should we do something to celebrate?” he randomly wonders.
“The rebirth of Winnie?”
He smirks. “Yes.”
I should say no. I have to say no. Nathan is waiting for me so we can try cakes for our wedding. I promised him I’d come back early, and I’ve already lingered here for three hours too long. That’s why, no, I can’t stay longer with Jax.
“Will you have dinner with me, Evangeline?” he asks since I’m not answering.
Technically, it’s just a dinner between two old friends who are about to be divorced. I’ve signed the papers. I’m just waiting for the right time to drop them off at my lawyer’s office so they can be filed. Dinner with him is technically not wrong.
But it feels wrong because there’s a part of me that knows Jax will always be more than a friend. He will forever be the man who was there for every important milestone of my adult life. He was the first in line for everything.
That’s why I can’t have dinner with him. Why I shouldn’t. Why I have to say no.
“I heard there’s an Indian place that opened,” I say instead.
“My brother told me it’s good. I have a better idea, though.”
“Oh?”
“Do you trust me, princess?”
Once again, I should say no. Everything he’s done since we’ve reunited encourages me to say no.
But once more, my heart speaks before my brain can. “Yes.”
His smile is luminous, and it makes him look so much younger that I see the boy he used to be. The one I fell in love with all those years ago.
“Alright, let me shower and change, then we can take my car.”
I look down at myself and wince. Despite trying my best, I got my blouse dirty. Jackson notices and waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry, you’re fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah, no one will care where we’re going.”
I’m still a little reluctant by the time he disappears back to the office. Looking put together is important to me, and walking around with smears on my white blouse doesn’t feel right.
I’m trying to think of a solution, like going home to change, when I’m hit with the harsh reality of what I’m about to do.
I’m ditching my plans with my fiancé to spend time with my soon-to-be ex-husband. That really doesn’t sound right, and I don’t know how I’ll explain that one to Nathan.
Resigned, I exit the garage to walk to my car, where I left my phone earlier.
What Nate doesn’t know can’t hurt him.