Page 63 of Unbearable

I know what he means and I hope Lenny does too. This place was Lyric’s. To understand him, all you had to do was step foot inside those bay doors and know him. His blood, sweat and tears went into running Walker Automotive and it was built on principals and good business. He did things right and never let customers walk all over him. If he didn’t want to work on your car because you were a shady piece of shit, he didn’t.

Red didn’t always see it that way. He looked at it as a business and one he needed to keep afloat. So he took anything people came by with, even if they were only showing up for him. Like in Amber’s case.

Since he was shot, his outlook on life and the way he runs Walker Automotive is slowly becoming more of Lyric’s way of doing business. Can’t say I don’t appreciate it because I absolutely loved working for Lyric, and enjoy working for Red too, now that he’s not giving me all the shit jobs.

THE ATMOSPHERE IN the shop calms down since everyone’s gone home for the night. It’s not unusual for me to work late and close up the shop for Red. Mostly because I live upstairs and it’s easy for me to do it. I also get more done at night than I do with Daniel working right beside me. I’m sure you can understand why.

I’m still working on a van, a beer in one hand as I ask the engine why it’s leaking oil. I have a tendency to talk to vehicles. If only they answered me. It’d make my job a lot easier.

As I’m having a conversation with the van, I hear gravel crunching and dust rising up from the parking lot.

It’s Berkley. She’s been texting me for a goddamn week and apparently ignoring her texts isn’t working. She’s another one like Amber, and I’m sure in some way they must be related. Either that or they’re taking pointers from one another.

First thing she does when she walks over to me is touch my tools on my tool cart. I do not like anyone touching my tools. It’s just one of those things. I have them where I want them and I don’t need someone fucking with them.

“Don’t touch that.” I rip the screwdriver in her hand away and toss it back on the tool cart.

“Geez, you’re testy today.”

“What are you even doing here? We’re closed.”

Berkley shrugs. “Saw the doors open and you were here. Thought I could catch you alone.”

Downing the rest of my beer, I point to the van. “I’m not alone. There’s a van here needing my attention.”

“Can you just fix my brakes, please?” She gives a flip of her hand over her shoulder at her Honda Civic parked in front of my open bay door. “I don’t have anyone else to work on my car.”

Tossing my empty beer away, I consider it only because maybe she’ll stop showing up if I do. Maybe I can finally get her out of my life. Not likely but I can at least try. “I’ll do it this one time but stop coming by here. You need to find a new mechanic.”

She gives me pouty lips that never work. “You’ve always worked on my car.”

“I can’t do it anymore. This is the last time.” Letting the van down from the lift, I give a nod. “Move your car so I can pull this one out.” I still haven’t found the leak but she won’t leave so it’s better I get this out of the way.

When the van’s on the ground, I kick the arms of the lift out of the way so I can back it up. I don’t say anything to her for five minutes and she’s handing me her keys. “Give me an hour and it’ll be done.”

Berkley’s eyes drop to our hands when she drops the key in my palm. “I don’t have anywhere to go. Can I just watch?”

She doesn’t want to watch. She wants to try to get me to reconsider.

“Whatever, but no talking.” My shoulder bumps hers as I walk by and open the door to her car. It smells like her, lilies and fruit. It’s some kind of body spray she wears and I remember loving it when we were together. Now I hate it. I even went to Bath and Body Works after we broke up and asked them to stop selling it.

Imagine their expression. It was one of shock that I would do such a thing but I was also fairly drunk. I proceeded to spend $300 and bought the entire stock they had and then dumped every bottle out.

It made me feel better for about an hour.

When I have the car inside on the lift, Berkley won’t stop talking and I’m regretting telling her she could stay. Another thing I hate, besides people touching my tools, is Berkley’s endless chatter about nothing. As shitty as it sounds, I get why Rawley jokes that he only gets blow jobs from her. She talks too fucking much. If your dick’s in her mouth, at least she can’t talk.

I used to think her talking was cute but then it just got on my nerves.

Like now.

Why couldn’t she just listen when I told her not to talk?

“Listen.” I take the used brake pad in my hand, warning her. “Youhaveto stop talking or I’m going to throw this at you.”

I wouldn’t. I’m not that much of a dick, but she laughs it off as if it meant nothing and continues. For an entire hour. Couldn’t tell you anything she said either.

She did need rear brakes and luckily we had some in the back for her car. It takes me another thirty minutes to get both the rear brakes changed and I’m lowering the car down from the lift.

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