Page 29 of Fixing Hearts

Seventeen

S tanding in the doorway of her bedroom, Jo held a coffee mug.

Evelyn was still curled under the covers of Jo’s bed, her blonde hair a soft tumble across the pillow, one arm flung lazily over her head.

Jo couldn’t help but smile. She looked almost too perfect to disturb, but she knew that they had things to do today, so she cleared her throat softly and stepped forward.

“Evelyn,” she said, her voice gentle. “I brought you something.”

Evelyn stirred, blinking her eyes open as she rolled toward the sound. When she saw Jo standing there, her face lit up with a sleepy smile. “Good morning,” she murmured, voice still husky from sleep. “Is that for me?”

Jo nodded and held out the mug. “It’s a latte. Sort of. I tried to make it like the one you ordered the other day,” she said. “I mean, I don’t have oat milk or a real milk frother, but...” She shrugged as Evelyn sat, pulling the sheet with her, and took the mug carefully.

“Thank you,” Evelyn said. She took a sip, then paused, her eyes widening slightly. “Jo. This is actually really good.”

“Really?” Jo said, more than a little surprised.

Nodding, Evelyn smiled behind the rim of the mug. “You could’ve fooled me,” she said. “And I thought you only knew how to make black coffee that could melt steel.”

“Hey, I’m full of surprises,” Jo said with a grin.

Taking another sip, Evelyn leaned her back against the headboard, the mug cradled in her hands. “Mmm. I needed this,” she said. “I’m exhausted.”

With a wide smile, Jo tilted her head. “Gee, I wonder why.”

Evelyn blushed. “Is that what you think?”

“Don’t you?”

Turning even pinker, Evelyn hid her face behind the mug for a moment, then laughed. “I do think so.”

Crossing her arms, Jo leaned against the doorframe. “Funny, but you didn’t seem tired last night,” she said, voice low and teasing.

Meeting her gaze, Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “Neither did you.”

Jo chuckled, and for a moment the room was filled with a comfortable, easy silence. She watched Evelyn sip her latte and felt a sort of happiness that she wasn’t used to, but she realized she really liked it.

Suddenly, the words were on her tongue before she could think herself out of it. “So, uh,” Jo started, trying to sound casual. “I was wondering if you might want to come with me to something today.”

“Oh?” Evelyn said, looking up from her latte.

“It’s nothing big,” Jo said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Just a little barbecue. Mr. Diaz is throwing it for his son’s birthday. Rosa’s cooking. There’ll be burgers, beer, probably too much potato salad.”

“Mr. Diaz?” Evelyn asked. “The man I met at your garage?”

“Yes,” Jo said, shifting her weight. “He invited me yesterday. Said I should bring you, actually. But no pressure or anything.” Quiet for a beat, Evelyn’s expression was unreadable.

Jo nodded slowly. “You don’t have to decide now.

I know it’s last minute. And you’ve probably got work stuff or whatever. It’s totally fine if you’d rather not.”

Evelyn gave her a small smile, but it didn’t hide the hint of anxiety in her eyes. “Maybe,” she said gently. “Let me think about it?”

Frustrated that she had made things suddenly awkward, Jo forced a smile in return.

“Sure,” she said. “Of course.” She pushed off the doorframe, trying not to let the disappointment show.

“I’m gonna go start a batch of cookies for it.

Rosa always expects me to bring something sweet.

” As she turned and walked toward the kitchen, Jo tried to shake it off.

Evelyn didn’t say no. She only needs time , she thought.

That’s all . Still, something about the hesitation made Jo’s chest tighten.

Back in the kitchen, she moved on autopilot, pulling out flour, sugar, and chocolate chips.

The familiar rhythm of baking grounded her again.

Measuring, mixing, folding. She didn’t let herself think about the insurance claim or the missing tools or the lingering violation of someone forcing their way into her space.

She didn’t think about Evelyn’s maybe. She simply focused on the cookies.

When she was ready to scoop the dough onto the tray, she heard footsteps behind her.

Then soft arms slid around her waist from behind, and Jo stilled.

Evelyn pressed a kiss to the space between Jo’s shoulder blades. “I’d be happy to go,” she whispered. Jo turned slowly, her heart thudding. Evelyn stood there in one of Jo’s T-shirts, her eyes warm.

Jo searched her face. “You’re sure?” she asked, and Evelyn nodded.

“I want to meet the people who helped shape you.” She smiled. “And if there’s homemade potato salad, how could I say no?”

Smiling, Jo’s chest loosened with relief. “Well, damn,” she said, reaching to pull Evelyn closer. “You just made my whole day.”

Evelyn smoothed her hands down the front of her dress as Jo pulled the GTO into the Diaz driveway.

The house was modest but charming with white siding, flower beds overflowing with bright blooms of early-season perennials, and she got a peek of a long wooden table with a red and white checked tablecloth set up in the backyard.

She heard the distant sound of voices and someone laughing as Jo put the car in park and glanced at her. “You okay?”

Taking a deep breath, Evelyn forced a smile. “I’m fine.” Jo raised an eyebrow, and Evelyn sighed. “Okay, I’m mostly fine.”

Jo leaned in, her voice low and warm. “They are going to think you’re great,” she said, and Evelyn gave her a look.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” Jo replied. “Because I do.”

Evelyn’s heart fluttered, but she nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

They got out of the car, Jo balancing a tray of neatly wrapped cookies in one hand while reaching for Evelyn’s with the other.

Their fingers laced together easily, and Evelyn held on a little tighter as they walked around the side of the house.

The backyard was already buzzing with guests.

A few people were gathered around the grill, where a man who looked suspiciously like a younger Mr. Diaz flipped burgers and laughed with someone holding a beer.

Children darted between the adults, chasing each other through the grass.

A woman with hair streaked with white and a floral apron stood at a long picnic table, arranging trays of empanadas, potato salad, and corn on the cob.

That must be Rosa, Evelyn thought. If I have to make anyone like me, I know it will be her.

As if feeling their eyes on her, Rosa turned when Jo and Evelyn stepped into the yard. Her face lit up. “Jo!” she called, wiping her hands on a towel as she hurried over. “You’re here. And you brought someone.”

“Hi, Rosa,” Jo said with a smile. “This is Evelyn.”

Rosa didn’t hesitate. She pulled Evelyn into a warm hug. “You’re even prettier than my husband described,” Rosa said, pulling back to look at her. “And I can tell you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Jo needs that.”

Surprised, Evelyn let out a laugh. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Diaz.”

Rosa waved a hand. “None of that formal stuff,” she said. “It’s Rosa. Come, come, there’s food, drinks, and a shady spot under the oak tree with your name on it.”

Handing off the tray of cookies, Jo chuckled. “We brought dessert.”

Peeking under the foil, Rosa made an approving sound. “Ah, your famous cookies,” she said. “Good. I was worried I’d have to pretend to like my cousin’s store-bought hojarascas again.”

Jo leaned toward Evelyn as Rosa bustled off toward the food table. “Told you she’d think you were great.”

Evelyn smiled, but her stomach still fluttered with nerves as they walked farther into the yard. People waved at Jo, calling out greetings. Evelyn stayed close, trying not to feel out of place. She was settling into a folding chair next to Jo when Rosa reappeared with two cold bottles of beer.

She handed one to Jo, then turned to Evelyn. “I had no idea what you liked,” she said. “But if it’s not beer, we have other choices. Do you want something else?”

Taking the beer, Evelyn smiled, even though she didn’t care for the taste. “This will be fine,” she said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Rosa said, her eyes twinkling. “Now, do you want to hear a story about our Jo?”

Evelyn blinked before warming up to the idea. “I would.”

Jo groaned. “Rosa—”

“Oh hush, it’s a good one,” Rosa said, settling into the lawn chair across from them. “Now, picture this. Jo, nineteen years old, barely started working at the garage part-time while studying business or marketing or something she didn’t even like.”

“It was accounting,” Jo muttered.

“Right. Accounting,” Rosa said, nodding dismissively. “Anyway, Mr. Diaz hands her the keys to a 1982 Buick and tells her to move it out of Bay Two. Simple, right? Except Jo, being Jo, decides she’s going to impress everyone by backing it out fast.”

Jo groaned again. “Rosa—”

Rosa waved her off. “Jo puts it in reverse,” Rosa continued, grinning. “Hits the gas, squeals the tires, and BAM—backs it straight into the side of a garbage truck driving by.”

Evelyn choked on a laugh. “No.”

“Oh yes,” Rosa said proudly. “Bent the bumper, not a scratch on the garbage truck, and my husband wouldn’t let Jo go near Bay Two for a week.” She laughed heartily. “She’s lucky it wasn’t a patrol car or something.”

“I was new,” Jo protested, throwing her hands in the air. “And that Buick had a touchy accelerator. I barely pressed it.” Evelyn was laughing at this point, the tension easing from her shoulders. Jo looked a dark shade of pink, but a smile tugged at her lips anyway.

Rosa patted Jo’s knee. “She’s come a long way since then,” she said.

“One of the best mechanics around. My husband says she’s a natural when it comes to engines.

” Her eyes shined with happiness. “And now she’s got someone smart and pretty by her side?

I’d say she’s doing fine.” Evelyn’s cheeks flushed, but she smiled.

Rosa stood, adjusting her apron. “Now relax. We will eat soon. Be sure to save room for cake.”

As Rosa walked away, Jo leaned in, her voice low. “I swear, if she tells the one about the carburetor fire, I’m leaving.”

Evelyn smiled wide, her heart full. “I’m staying for that one,” she said, and as Jo laughed, Evelyn felt like she belonged.

Later, after the sun had dipped low and the backyard twinkle lights were turned on, Jo sat beside Evelyn on the back deck of the Diaz house.

Their paper plates were abandoned beside them, and the sounds of laughter and clinking bottles drifted from the yard.

Evelyn leaned her shoulder gently against Jo’s.

“Your people are great,” she said softly.

Pleased, Jo hummed in agreement. “They are,” she said. “I am lucky I found them.”

Her eyes on the horizon, Evelyn nodded. Jo followed her gaze and saw the last streaks of pink disappear behind the trees. “Yes,” she said. “You seem born for this.”

Jo glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

Turning her head, Evelyn met her gaze. “I mean the garage, Mr. Diaz, Rosa, all of this. It’s not only a job. It’s home.”

Letting the words settle, Jo was surprised at how much they hit her. She swallowed. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess it is.”

Reaching, Evelyn took Jo’s hand. “Thank you,” she said. “For bringing me into it.”

Looking down at their joined hands, Jo’s heart thudded a little harder than she was used to. “I guess I wanted you to see it,” she said. “All of it. Not just the bar, or the shop, or my kitchen full of cookies.”

“The cookies are a strong selling point,” Evelyn said with a laugh.

Smiling, Jo laughed softly, then sobered a little. “I don’t want to freak you out,” she said. “But I never bring women to things like this.”

Her eyes widening a little, Evelyn tilted her head. “Like personal things?” she asked, and Jo nodded.

“Yeah. Like... real things,” Jo said.

Evelyn was quiet for a second, then leaned in and kissed her. It was soft, lingering, less about heat and more about meaning. When she pulled back, her voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m glad you did,” she said. “I feel very honored.”

Wanting to say something more, to tell Evelyn how special she was, Jo opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat. She settled for holding Evelyn’s hand tighter.

Inside, Rosa called that the cake was being served, and Jo was relieved for the distraction. “Come on,” she said, standing. “It’s Rosa’s famous recipe. We can’t miss that.”

Smiling, Evelyn stood. “Indeed we don’t,” she said.

“Lead the way.” As they waded back into the party, fingers still linked, Jo felt something shift inside her.

A quiet certainty she hadn’t let herself believe in before.

She didn’t know where the road was taking them, but for the first time in her life, she wanted to know someone.

Not on the surface, but a person to really open up to and share things.

As they entered the busy kitchen, Jo realized she wasn’t scared.

As if reading her thoughts, Jo caught Rosa looking at her while people started to take pieces of cake.

After a beat, the woman winked. No one else noticed, and Jo knew Rosa, one of the few people she trusted most in the world, was telling her it was okay.