Page 55 of Ice Darling
I force my thoughts back on work and, thankfully, I actually like what I do, so it’s not a difficult task.
For hours, all that can be heard in the garage is the rumble of car engines, the slam of metal against metal when Rebel fires up her welding machine, and April talking to customers on the phone.
Sometime after 11 a.m., my stomach growls loud enough to be heard over the roar of the cars. I set a hand there, wincing. I was in such a rush, I didn’t even bring any of my microwavable lunch boxes.
After the third whale call, I realize my stomach won’t be ignored.
“Hey, Rebel!” I call.
My boss lifts her head out of the engine she’s repairing. “Yeah?”
“I’m going to the grocery store to pick up some lunch.”
“Do you want to come to the Tuna with us? We’re meeting Gunner and Chance before they head to the stadium for Max’s big announcement.”
I shake my head. “I’m still working on the sensor, so I don’t want to take long.”
Rebel waves me on.
I swing my legs over my bike and grab my helmet. At that moment, a familiar car turns the curb and heads to the garage.
I recognize Mrs. Renthrow’s car immediately.
Hanging back, I wait until the vehicle parks, expecting to see a grey-haired, spritely woman in the front seat.
Instead, a six-foot-four hockey player unfolds himself from the minivan and walks toward me. He’s wearing a dark suit thatmustbe tailored because it’s impossible to find an off-the-rack brand that could fit such broad shoulders so perfectly.
“Renthrow? What are you doing here?”
He nods at me. “Hey.”
I hop off my bike and scramble close to him. “Is Gordie okay?” I lower my voice. “Did she have another episode after I left?”
“Gordie’s fine.” His hazel eyes drop to my helmet and back up. “Going somewhere?”
Words form in my brain, but they don’t make their way to my throat. He’s standing right beside me, close enough that I can smell his cologne—something rich and spicy and glorious. Whatisthat scent?
“Cordelia?”
I jump in my skin. The way he says my full name is deliciously deep and intimate. I swear I’ve never heard anyonesay it the way he does, and I kind of wish he’d stop. “I’m… What was the question?”
There’s a smile on his lips. Why is he smiling so much around me now? Can’t we go back to the days when he snarled and snapped instead?
I struggle to get back on top of the conversation. My eyes land on his mother’s car. “Do you need me to come over today? I can look at your car and get it back up and running.”
“I’d appreciate that. Mom’s car is nice, but it’s…” He squints at the van with all theEat, Pray, Lovebumper stickers. “Not really my style.”
I laugh.
His mouth tugs up in a wider grin.
“I’ll be there.” I tilt my head to the side. “You know, this could have been a phone call.”
“True, but I don’t have your number.”
“Oh.” I realize that he’s right. “Give me your phone.”
He hands it over. His wallpaper is a picture of Gordie grinning up at the camera. She has one hand on a telescope, and in the background, is a poster of the stars. They must have taken this at the science museum.
