Chapter 3
August
My hands are slick with sweat where they’re gripping the steering wheel—and not from the summer heat.
I’m nervous. I’ve been a wreck all day thinking about seeing my girl again. Well, she’s not mine. Not yet anyway, but hopefully someday.
If I can ever work up the nerve to ask her out. I’m not generally a nervous guy, but I am when I’m around her. Every time she’s in my presence, my tongue gets all tied up, and I forget everything I planned to say.
I was going to ask her out in May. I expected it would take longer for her to figure out the gas cap problem, so I hadn’t finished psyching myself up to ask her on a date or for her number when she came back.
I got all flustered because her intuition and problem solving was so attractive, then Patrick was there, and it would have been weird to ask her out with him around.
My brain went blank when she tasted my cookies and let out that little moan. Apparently nothing turns me on quite like Mikey appreciating my baking.
I’ve made a batch of those cookies every week since—they’re now one of the best sellers at the bakery—while working up the nerve to come back to the shop and ask her out.
When I left the shop in February, I was determined to go back and ask her out the next week, but I didn’t want to come off too strong or creepy. I didn’t want to seem like I was stalking her, so I came up with a plan.
A plan that is, in hindsight, a little bizarre. But I can’t let her slip away if she’s meant to be the love of my life. I’ll ask her out today. I don’t know if she’ll say yes, but I have to try.
I hope I don’t clam up again.
I pull over about a mile from the shop and follow the directions Slater reluctantly gave me.
He said he’d rather help me than have me damage my van beyond repair, even if he thinks my plan is absolutely insane and I need to see someone for therapy.
What’s a little insanity when true love is on the line?
I open the hood and locate the little black box Slater told me holds the fuses. Once I find the u-shaped prong thingy, I pull it out and put it in a bottle of water. I shake it up, then take it out and put it back where I found it. When that’s done I get back in the van and head over to the shop.
There are more people here than there have been during my previous visits, so I hope she has time. I’m prepared to wait all day if I need to, but I don’t want to overwork her.
When I walk into the lobby, Patrick and Mikey are nowhere to be found. Just an older gentleman with gray hair and a handlebar mustache sitting at the front desk.
“Be right with ya,” he hollers before going back to his phone conversation.
I stand a couple of feet away from the desk, not wanting to eavesdrop while he finishes his call.
There are only a few empty seats in the waiting room.
Two are occupied by a little girl and who I assume is her mother.
She looks to be around four, scribbling in a coloring book.
Another chair is taken by a man wearing a polo and khakis, tapping furiously on his phone, and another two are occupied by a couple holding hands and whispering quietly to each other.
A smile tips my lips. They look good together. I can tell they’re deeply in love, and my heart wants to burst. I love when a couple is so in love they have to be touching each other at all times. I love when it’s obvious they’re two halves of one whole.
“Sorry ‘bout that. What can I do for ya?” the man at the front desk asks. He’s wearing a navy blue and gray work shirt with “Merv” embroidered on the chest. This must be the shop’s owner.
Remembering what Slater told me to describe, I explain, “My van started lurching, and it feels like my gas pedal isn’t giving it any gas.
I have to make it over the mountain today and don’t want to risk breaking down halfway.
I was hoping Mikey had time to take a look? She’s worked on my van before.”
Merv hums, squinting his brown eyes at me. “What’d ya say your name is?”
“Saint Valentine.”
“Ah, ya the cookie guy?”
“I think so?” Unless someone else has brought cookies.
Merv grins. “Thought so. Well, son, we’re a little packed in here, and Mikey’s rushing around like a chicken with her head cut off trying to get these cars fixed. Are ya okay waitin’ ‘round for a bit?”
“Yeah, sure. I don’t have anywhere important to be.” Lies. I should be at the shop or my house proofing dough and preparing pudding for tomorrow, but… I can just wake up extra early.
“I bet ya don’t,” Merv grumbles, grabbing a clipboard and the familiar paperwork. “Gimme your keys and fill this out. I’ll get ya back as soon as possible."
“Thank you.” I take the clipboard, hand over my keys, and quickly fill out the paperwork then hand it back to Merv, who shuffles out the door.
As soon as I sit down, I pull my phone out and send a text to Ruby.
Saint: I’m going to be here for a while. Everything good there?
Ruby: *side eye emoji* Where have you been disappearing to?
Saint: *shrug emoji* None of your business.
Ruby: It sure the hell is when you’re leaving me to man the café AND the bakery more in the last six months than you ever have.
Ruby: Is it a woman? Are you seeing someone?! If you are, I’m going to kick your ass for keeping it from me.
I haven’t told Ruby about Mikey. I’ve only confided in Slater because I needed his expertise. If Ruby knew I was driving almost two hours away and purposely breaking my van to talk to the pretty mechanic I think is the love of my life, she’d call me crazy.
And she wouldn’t be wrong.
Saint: No. Just running errands, but the thing I need won’t be ready for a few more hours. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back.
Ruby: Fine. Drive safe. You owe me.
Saint: I know. Thank you.
I owe Ruby not only for manning our business alone every time I’ve come to Salem but also for keeping secrets from her. We don’t do that with each other. We’re the only family we have now, and we promised to always be open and honest.
It’s not out of the ordinary for me to run errands in a bigger city to get supplies, but I try to keep it to a minimum. I only go every six months or so, once a year if I can help it. To be leaving the shop three times in six months is unheard of. I don’t like leaving the bakery or Cupid’s Cove.
What if Mikey doesn’t like Cupid’s Cove?
I shake the thought away. We haven’t even gone on a date, so I shouldn’t be worrying if she’ll like my quirky little town.
As soon as I think her name, she bursts through the door of the shop. She does a double take when she sees me, and I give her a small wave. Her eyes widen, and she smooths down a hair that’s come out of her braid before she fixes her face into a smile and addresses the woman with the little girl.
“All right, Mrs. Roper, your van is all done. I replaced the tie rods, so you shouldn’t hear that weird clanking sound anymore.”
“Our van won’t splode?” the little girl asks.
Mikey squats down so she’s eye level with her. “Nope. I fixed it so your van is all better.”
The girl’s mouth drops open. “You fixeded our car? I thought only boys fixed cars.”
Mikey smiles indulgently at her, leaning in like she’s telling her top secret information. “Girls can fix cars, too.”
“Mommy, I want to fix cars when I grow up just like her!”
“That sounds like a great idea, baby.” She turns to Mikey. “How much do I owe you?”
Mikey walks them to the reception desk and rings them up before letting the kid pick out a toy car from a bin behind the desk.
She asks Mikey a bunch of questions about what type of car it is, how it runs, what she needs to do to fix it if it breaks, and Mikey patiently answers every single one with a smile on her face.
The mom thanks Mikey again, and they walk out the front door.
“Mr. Lee, Patrick is replacing your brake pads and should be done soon,” Mikey addresses the guy in the polo.
He just grunts in reply, not looking up from his phone.
I watch as her shoulders slump, and her hands ball into fists at her sides, like she’s frustrated.
Her customer service smile never leaves her face, though, as she turns to the couple.
“Before I came in here, I started letting the oil drain, so it should only take me about ten minutes to finish up, then we can get you on your way.”
The couple nods, letting her know they’re happy waiting.
Then, her attention is on me. Her smile softens, and her teal eyes flash with something I can’t name. “I’ll take a look at your van as soon as I’m done.”
“Take your time, Mikey. I don’t have anywhere to be.”
Her pretty lips pop open like she wasn’t expecting me to say that. “Okay,” she breathes. “I-I’ll be back.”
I’ll be waiting.
Three hours later—apparently, polo man’s car was more complex than they thought, and Mikey needed to assist with the repair—the lobby is empty save for me and Merv.
The shop closes in half an hour, and Mikey came rushing in twenty minutes ago to let me know the issue is with my fuel pump fuse, and she just needs to replace it. She assured me I’ll be out of here by closing.
I’m not concerned. Merv, though a little odd, is good company. He’s been randomly instigating conversations, asking me questions about myself and feeding me little tidbits about Mikey.
I feel bad learning about her from someone else, but I’m also greedy for any information that might help me in my quest to ask her on a date.
Merv informed me Mikey has worked here for a little over four years, and she’s the best mechanic he’s ever had. He raved about how she’s quick as a whip with diagnosing a problem and finding a solution and knows a carburetor like the back of her hand.
He praised her customer service skills and made it a point to tell me she’s tough, but she’s got a soft heart. He grumbled something about an ex-boyfriend who was a piece of shit and made her feel worthless, and if he ever shows up at the shop, Merv’ll put a tire pressure gauge in his eye.