Page 15 of Take Me
“Might as well, right?They’re all stacked so close together.”
“Works for me.We can stage a nice breakup a few weeks after Lucy’s.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Mason hands me my coat, and we both check to be sure we’ve left generous tips before heading out into the Oregon Coast drizzle.I breathe in the scent of sea brine and wet moss and tire rubber from Spencer-King Auto.
Mason lopes off toward his truck.I follow, since I’m parked right beside him.“Is your dome light on?”
“Goddamn it.”He sighs.“Harper ran back to the truck to grab her sweatshirt.Twenty bucks says the battery’s dead.”
“Need a new one?”I grin and unlock my own truck.“I know where you can get a helluva deal.”
Mason opens his driver’s side door and sticks the key in the ignition.The engine sputters as I snatch my jumper cables out of the back of my cab.“Pop the hood,” I tell him as I lift mine.“You know the drill.‘Red from the dead to red on the good; black from the good to under the hood.’”
“Yeah, yeah.”
We go through the motions like two teenage kids who’ve owned more than our share of shitty cars.Even though countless years and much nicer vehicles have filled in the gap, our muscle memory is strong.We need no more words as we stick the clamps in the right spots and I fire up my engine.
We’re letting it run, leaning on Mason’s right fender, when a pale-yellow Volkswagen zips by on Beachcomber Drive.Mason stiffens beside me.
“Was that Annabelle’s car?”
“Yeah.”He doesn’t say anything else for a minute.“Wonder if she’s heard the news, too.”
“That you and I are madly in love and shagging each other senseless?”Given how news travels here, I wouldn’t be surprised.“Would that be a problem?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”I hate when he’s hurting.“Like, if you’re hoping to get back together with her?—”
“I’m not.”He doesn’t sound very convincing.
I know better than to push, though.We stand there in silence, our shoulders touching as we lean on his shiny green truck.
“Know the shittiest thing about all this?”His question surprises me.
“What’s that?”
“How she looked at me when we split.”He lets out a breath and glances over.“Like when she ended things, she kept looking at me like a puppy she’d kicked or a dog she’d run over in the parking lot.”
“Considering she’s a vet, I hope that means she was compassionate and professional.”
He grunts and turns to unclamp the black cable.I walk to my rig and do the same thing before Mason detaches the red end from his.He walks it back over, keeping the two clamps apart as I unhook my end and slam the hood shut.
Mason hands me the cables.“Thanks for the jump.”
“No prob.”I coil them up and stuff them in their storage bin.
“I owe ya, Gentry.”He holds out his palm, waiting for me to slap it.
I do, then whack the back of my hand against his to bonk knuckles like always.We follow that up with an elbow tap, then two quick snaps and a fist-bump finale.
Mason laughs.“Nice.”
“Can’t believe we still remember that.”
There’s comfort in our age-old routine.Then the yellow Volkswagen cruises past again and I cringe at how childish it feels.
