Page 92 of Keep Your Guard Up
He quickly stepped forward and pulled me into a hug. I could feel the sympathy in his hug and saw it in the brief glimpse of his face. It didn’t surprise me though. I assumed Al would have been the one Nan turned to for a chat on the phone.
“It’s good to see you, darlin’.” He stepped back, checking me over before pushing the heavy strawberry-coloured door open wider. “Comin’ in for a cuppa?”
“I’d love one, but I can’t stay too long.” I chewed nervously on my bottom lip. Aside from martial arts confusions and general problems, I’d never really turned to Al for help. I knew he was always there, of course. He reminded me of that often. But Al was always someone I wanted to please, wanted to make proud. “Hope that’s okay?”
“Course. Any time spent with you, long or short, is always time well spent.” He smiled at me, pulling open a chair for me at the eight-seater dining table that faced directly into his rounded, open plan kitchen.
Al’s entire house interior was made up of cream walls and benchtops, yellow lighting, and a deep brown staining on every single inch of timber. Outdated, sure. But the house always felt warm and full of life.
The old, red kettle that matched the front door began whistling quickly. Al must’ve already had a cuppa this morning.
“It’s nice to see you, darlin’. Your grandmother has had me a little worried over here,” he said, reaching into one of the many timber cabinets and pulling down two mugs.
“Nan’s a bit of a worry wart when it comes to me, you know that,” I replied.
“It wasn’t what she was telling me that had me worried. In the decade that you’ve been working at Knock’s, I’ve never seen you miss a day there.” He put three heaped teaspoons of instant coffee in each mug before pulling the kettle. He poured a little milk in his before bringing them both over to the table.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the pink painted mug from his hands. “And I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Al. Sometimes we all just need a break.”
“So, it’s got nothing to do with that head coach of ours?”
I sighed.
“Even if it does, there’s nothing wrong with needing a little space.” The coffee was warm, but tasted of bitter, cheap instant coffee. I took long gulps, enjoying it for the caffeine hit I knew was coming, not the flavour.
“No, there isn’t. But you don’t take ‘space’ from Knock’s, darlin’. Wanna tell me what’s really goin’ on?”
I glanced at the large clock on his wall. It was almost nine-thirty. I had to get moving.
“I would love to. Really, Al, I would. But … it’s not my story to tell.” I winced at his unrelenting gaze. “But … I do need to ask you a favour.”
Chapter 53
Mari
Iwhipped down the highway going at least ten over the speed limit. Al’s little Corolla had probably never gone this fast before.
Al had handed me the keys without further question when I’d asked. I think he’d been too shocked at me even asking to think twice.
His little Corolla smelled like his office used to—coffee and stinky cigars. A couple of butts were in one of the cup holders, along with three empty coffee cups stacked together. But other than that, there was nothing else in the car. Not a speck of dirt, a string of grass, not even one of his grey hairs.
I hit the brakes, shifting gear when I spotted the familiar dirt road. A loud clunking sound rattled the car, but the noise was lost to the sound of tyres on gravel when I hit the dirt road.
Had I thought about how a small, hardly-used Corolla would go on a rocky dirt road? Not at all.
Would I give it a red-hot go? Absolutely.
I dropped the gear to second, and at the base of the gravel hill, first. Flying down the road, I used the flat stretch to build momentum. The car screamed at me, begging me to change gears, but I held out. As soon as we blew past the ditch that signalled the start of the incline, I pumped the clutch and pulled her back down to second.
She whined and screamed the whole drive up, and for a moment I thought we wouldn’t make it. Doing all of the cleaning at the gym for the rest of my life flashed before my eyes, since that was what I would have to do to pay the damn car off.
But we made it. And as we crested the top of the hill, I spotted a familiar faded blue ute. And sitting on the tray, staring out into the clearing, was Chance.
~
“I hear this is the place to be on a Friday afternoon,” I said lightly as I approached.
His shoulders twitched, the only sign of surprise he gave me at my sudden presence.
