Page 40 of This Love
Fuentes nodded thoughtfully, looking over the car. Marcus had told me Fuentes got roaring drunk at the wedding and hit on Ava’s college-age sister. Marcus had kicked him out.
Probably, if Ava and I got another wedding, I wouldn’t be able to make him a groomsman.
I walked to the engine and twisted the oil filter off. The motor was pristine, as if someone had pressure-washed it.
Fuentes leaned in. “Not original parts. Too bad.”
This made the car significantly less interesting. I passed him the dead filter and screwed in the new one.
He set it on the cart. “Gotta be rough, going from banging to banished.”
Fuentes was the only one willing to say it. Probably his bluntness made him a good friend. But a terrible groomsman.
When I didn’t reply, Fuentes walked the perimeter of the Mustang, admiring the glossy finish.
Our boss, Domingo, entered the garage space, wiping his hands on a shop towel. “How many of y’all does it take to do an oil change?” he asked.
“I’m going,” Fuentes said, heading to the Ford SUV in his bay. His car was a lot less interesting.
Domingo admired the ‘stang. “They don’t make them like this anymore.”
“Might be a good thing,” I said, grunting to remove the oil cap. Whoever had changed the oil last time had grossly over-tightened it. “They overheat, and the crappy gas mileage makes driving it require a second job.”
Domingo chuckled. “True, but wait until we start it up.”
I guessed he was hanging around to listen. I got the cap off and set a funnel in the hole. As I poured in the first quart of oil, we both took in the car like it was a moving picture we couldn’t look away from.
“Y’all are in love,” Fuentes called from his bay before disappearing below the SUV.
“Might be,” Domingo said.
I started my second quart, picturing Ava in the front seat. Right now, we had a gray Honda Accord Ava’s dad had given us. But since it came from him, I had left it in the driveway at the house when she’d asked me to leave.
Maybe that wasn’t practical since I could drive, and Ava would have to wait at least three months to be cleared again. But I never assumed anything about what our future would bring. Each time was a risk that she wouldn’t come back to me.
As I finished the oil change, Domingo settled into the driver’s seat. The perks of being the boss.
When the engine roared to life, he cocked his head back, his arm extended to the steering wheel. “Now, this is the life,” he called out.
The bays hummed with the perfect timing of the engine. Domingo leaned out the window. “You can go ahead and clock out. I’ll handle this.”
I wiped my hands on a shop towel. “See you tomorrow.”
Time to get to Gram’s, shower, and come up with a game plan for tonight. Ava probably needed some help around the house. Had she figured out the trash day yet? When to put out the recycling?
The thermostat might still be in vacation mode. I’d programmed it the morning of the wedding. I should check the air conditioner filter. I hadn’t fixed the leaking faucet in the bathroom.
Houses needed maintenance.
Maybe if dating didn’t work, that could be how I got near her again.
I’d make a list of chores. A schedule for when I’d come.
Play our old favorite music. Maybe run a movie we liked in the background.
Pop some popcorn. That smell was always happy to her.
I’d figure out a way.
