Page 11 of Beneath the Indigo Sky

“I’ve never really learned to do much with cars. I’m good with math, and I read enough to enter some kind of reading triathlon if such a thing exists. I don’t think it does though. I’m a pretty good cook, I think, and I’m handy enough when our plumbing has issues, but cars I’ve never really figured out.”

He walks down under the lift into the pit.

“This is very cool. So, you don’t have to slide under cars on those little scooters these days, huh?”

He glances briefly in my direction as he walks back out of the pit and resumes his exploration of the shop’s diagnostic computers and the pneumatic tools I’ve left on the floor since I usually don’t have the energy to put them away at the end of the day anymore.

“I mean, I own one of those.”

He spins around to face me with a grin.

“Can I play with it?!”

A laugh forces its way from my chest. A laugh. A short, tight, strangled sound that I don’t quite understand anymore.

“Can you…play…with it?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

He shrugs and continues wandering around, trailing his graceful fingers along the edges of toolboxes and the curves of wrenches before coming to a stop in front of me.

“One day, you’ll let me play with it.”

He sounds so confident, so sure of himself, so…joyful. Like he intends to insert himself into my life and my shop for long enough that I’ll agree to let him use one of my tools like a child’s toy until he somehow smashes into the lift and brings an entire car crashing down on me…or himself.

I don’t know how to respond other than to shake my head in disbelief and lead him back to the reception area.

His playfulness fades as we approach the office door. It’s opened about a foot. That’s how Jordyn left it the last time he walked out. I haven’t been able to approach it since.

When I pause, unable to take the last two steps and push the door open, Namid lays his hand on my forearm.

His touch is warm through my thick flannel shirt, even though his fingertips rest so lightly on my arm that I can barely feel their pressure. The heat spreads across my skin, down through the muscle, until it feels like my arm is throbbing where we’re connected. I don’t understand this sensation. Even though there is no one in this town for me to build a life with, we get tourists in the summer, and I spend plenty of time letting them touch me and touching them in return. All the lips I’ve kissed, all the skin I’ve touched, it all blends together into something vaguely memorable but ultimately uninteresting and indistinguishable. Never has the brush of a hand through fabric sent my body reeling the way his does. I really have lost it.

“Do you want me to do this alone?” His tone is gentle, the type of tone one might use on a hurt or skittish animal.

“No. I’m okay.”

I take a deep breath and force myself forward.

Namid

My fingers tingle as they fall from Jayce’s arm when he finally steps toward the office door. There is so much complexity inside him, so much buried under the hurt. For a moment in the shop, he let me tease him. For a moment, he smiled and laughed and almost teased me back. He was so full of love and light and laughter; he just doesn’t know where they are anymore. He doesn’t know how to find them.

I take a deep breath and step into Jordyn’s office, hoping that he’s left everything in order. I want to be able to give Jayce good news, or at least not bad news.

“Do you want to grab a chair and join me? I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

He shakes his head quickly. “No. I’ll be…I’ll work.”

I smile as kindly as I can. “I’ll let you know if I have any questions.”

He hovers at my side for a moment before taking one shuddering breath and walking away without a word, and I settle in behind the desk. It faces out toward the reception area, and I leave the door open so that Jayce doesn’t have to worry about what I might be doing in his brother’s space. It doesn’t take me long to learn just how organized Jordyn was. The software they use for scheduling appointments and ordering parts is connected and state of the art. The banking and accounting software is separate, but the two interface nicely. It doesn’t look like any of the shop’s bills have been paid since Jordyn died, but it’s only been about five weeks, so I’m sure when Jayce reaches out to let people know what’s happened and get his accounts up to date, there won’t be any issues. It takes less than two hours for me to go through the entire system and pull together a detailed overview.

I find Jayce sitting at a small glass table in what can loosely be called the break room. It’s little more than a large closet with a mini fridge, a table with two cheap plastic chairs, and a warehouse-sized box filled with individual bags of chips. I suppose with only the two of them, it was more than enough for them to grab a drink or eat lunch together, and my heart breaks at the fact he’ll be in here alone with his pre-sliced deli meat sandwiches from now on. His arms are crossed on the table, his forehead resting on them as if he’s trying to grab a cat nap. I don’t think he’s asleep. I think he might be crying.

“Hey.” I startle him even though I deliberately keep my voice low and calm.

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