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She steps out from behind the car. Her hair is held back by a bandana. She’s in black work boots and blue coveralls, though they are partially unbuttoned, showing a gray tank underneath.
There is nothing inherently sexy about what she’s wearing at all. The coveralls are dirty and streaked with grease. Her boots are scuffed. She’s got a smudge of something—again, probably dirt or grease—on her cheek. But fuck…I want to bend her over that car.
“You preached to Brian?”
She pulls a rag from her back pocket, wiping her hands. “It was one of my mandates from the church. I had to preach to the whole family. Brian was the only one who really listened.”
“While he fixed cars?”
She smiles. “Yep. At first, I’d watch him work while I talked. Then he’d hand me the tools, show me what to do, and then oversee my work while he told me his thoughts on whatever Iwas “teaching” him.” She leans a hip against the car. “He knew a lot about the Bible and the church—widely and my dad’s—and Christianity. He’d been going to church and religion classes since he was a kid. He was raised Catholic and as an adult was a regular at the protestant church Greta’s family goes to over in Billsly.”
“Did you argue?”
“A little. But mostly he’d just tell me a different perspective.” She looks down at her hands, wiping the rag she’s holding over her palm. “He’d also show up in my dad’s church about once a month. That helped me out because my dad thought it was because I was ‘getting through to him’. Brian told me it was because he wanted to support me and because he wanted to experience how my dad taught his congregation. Said it helped him understand me better.” She looks up. “Brian never tried to talk me out of going to my dad’s church. He understood that I wanted a connection there. But he wanted me to really understand what Dad was teaching me.”
“And you picked up car repair along the way,” I say, watching her. I’m fascinated by her. Maybe I didn’t know therealher. I didn’t know all the details, certainly. But every time I learn something new, I fall deeper.
She nods, not looking up. “Yeah. And when I needed a job, all I could think about was how Brian just patiently, day by day, little by little, taught me this thing that could actually support me.” She smiles. “Okay, he taught me more than one thing. But this thing that I could make money at.” She lifts her head. “So I went garage to garage, asking if they needed help until one said yes. Pete. He paid me almost nothing at first, but then I slowly won him over, proving I was more reliable and harder working than any of his other mechanics and he increased my wages and paid for me to go to the community college to take some formalclasses to learn some additional skills and—” She shrugs. “Here I am.”
I push off the wall and walk toward her. “Do you like this job?”
She looks around the garage. “No.”
I’m surprised. “Really?”
“I don’t hate it. I like feeling capable. I like being able to help people. But no. This is not a dream job. It’s just something I can do that people need and that contributes to the town.”
I stop just a foot in front of her. I’m glad this isn’t her dream job. Because I have a better idea. But I also wish this woman was happy withsomethingin her life. I know she loves her daughter and sister, but even there I sense a tension. She wantsthemto be happy and Mariah’s issues at school and Ruby’s issues with Henry upset Scarlett.
Things aren’t how Scarlett would like them to be, and I cannot tamp down the urge to fix it all.
She looks up at me and tucks the rag back into her pocket. “So, what are you doing here?”
“I haven’t seen you all day. Ruby and Mariah said you’d be almost done.”
She glances at the car. “I still need to do a few things for Diane, but she doesn’t need it back until…” She laughs. “She doesn’t have a set time she needs it back.”
I smile and close the space between us. “Why can’t you just let Diane give you casseroles to help you out?”
Scarlett shrugs. “Because I don’t really need those casseroles. I feel guilty taking them, I guess.”
“Do they help you?”
“Sure. It’s nice some nights to just throw something in the oven and not have to worry about ingredients and recipes and taking the time to put it together.”
“And that gives you time to spend with Mariah, or to do something else like laundry, or to just relax, which is also valuable. So you shouldn’t feel guilty.”
“I just know there are other people who need help a lot more than Ruby and Mariah and I do.”
I lift my hand and cup her face. “It’s okay for people to take care of you, Scarlett. Just because they want to. Just because they care. It doesn’t have to be a need thing.”
She takes a breath. “I’m just not used to that.”
I fucking hate that. Hate. It. This woman should becherished. But on the other hand, it means I can come in and do it and there’s no one I need to shove out of the way.
“Ruby’s taken care of you, right?” I ask.
I know that’s the biggest reason Henry and Ruby can’t be together. Henry needs to be with me, and Ruby feels she needs to be with Scarlett.