Page 39 of Fixing Hearts

Twenty-Three

A s the morning light filtered through the newly repaired windows, Jo stood in the center of her garage.

The shop smelled like oil, rubber, and the faint remnants of the cinnamon rolls Mica brought in an hour ago.

Everything was as it should be, and yet, Jo wasn’t happy.

She hadn’t slept again. Blowing out a frustrated breath, her eyes wandered to the covered Mustang and frowned.

Mica was across the bay, standing under a Volvo, pretending to work on a simple oil change, but she took longer than necessary.

Jo knew her friend was sizing up the situation.

“You know,” Mica said without looking Jo’s way. “You’re staring at that car like it holds all the answers.”

With arms crossed and her jaw tight, Jo didn’t answer. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mica glance at her.

“You thinking about selling it again?”

“I don’t know.”

Mica sighed, pulling out the drained oil filter. “That’s not a no.”

“It’s a maybe.”

“You said you’d only sell it if there was no other choice.”

Jo looked at Mica. “There might not be another choice,” she said.

Mica set the filter aside. “Okay,” she said. “You want to talk about what’s really going on? Or should I keep pretending that we’re actually worried about the Mustang right now?”

Keeping her expression unreadable, Jo didn’t blink. “What do you mean?” she asked. “What else is this about?”

“Let’s see,” Mica said, crossing her arms. “You’ve been weird ever since Evelyn dropped the news about the possible job change. You’ve barely touched your phone. And you’re not talking about the block party you agreed to let her help plan.”

With a sigh, Jo stared at the concrete floor. “She might not help anymore,” she said quietly, and Mica blinked.

“Wait. What?”

“She’s taking it,” Jo said, the words flat. “The job. Sent me a text yesterday.”

Mica’s eyes widened. “Wow, then she’s moving away?” she asked, and Jo shrugged.

“Not exactly,” Jo said. “She’ll still be based here, but she’ll be traveling a lot. Weeks at a time.”

Shaking her head, Mica stared at her. “So what?” she asked. “You called it quits?”

Jo shook her head. “Not officially,” she said. “But I don’t see another option.”

“And that’s it?” Mica asked, her eyes wide.

“Pretty much.”

“Jo.” Mica took a step forward, her voice rising. “You’re telling me you two haven’t talked about this?”

“Why would we?” Jo snapped. “She made her decision.”

Looking at the ceiling, Mica was quiet for a beat. “You’re such a coward sometimes,” she finally muttered.

Scowling, Jo narrowed her eyes. “Easy with that,” she said.

Mica held up her hands as if in surrender. “All I mean is,” Mica said, softer now. “You care about her. Don’t pretend you don’t. And you’re feeling hurt about it, so instead of fighting for her, you let her go.”

Jo’s jaw tightened. “She’s the one who said yes to the job,” she replied. “I don’t care what you think, but I wasn’t going to beg her to stay. Even if I wanted to, that wouldn’t make sense after two weeks.”

“Okay, okay. I can see that,” Mica said. “But you can’t pretend nothing happened between you. You need to talk. Did she text you?”

Swallowing hard, Jo continued to look away, not wanting to see Mica’s face when she told her the truth. “She sent me some texts yesterday,” she answered. “But I didn’t answer them.”

“Oh my God.” Mica threw her hands in the air. “She probably thinks you hate her.”

“I don’t hate her,” Jo said. “I only…”

“You only what?” Mica asked. “Don’t know how to deal with the fact that someone finally made you feel something real?

” Jo’s silence was answer enough. Mica softened.

“Hey, Jo, you’ve been my friend for a long time, so I can be the one to tell you that you’re not allowed to shut her out and then act like she’s the one walking away. ”

Running a hand through her hair, Jo paced toward the Mustang. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she said. “The block party. The garage. Everything feels like it’s falling apart.”

“Well,” Mica said. “Then let us help you hold it together. I know that’s what Evelyn was trying to do. That’s what I’m trying to do. But you’ve gotta let us.”

Jo stopped, her hand resting on the Mustang’s hood through the tarp. Somehow, it helped her feel steady. She closed her eyes for a second, then turned back to Mica. “You think she’ll still help?” she asked. “After I ghosted her?”

“Honestly? I think she’s probably waiting for you to give her a reason to,” Mica said. “Send her a text.”

“Now?” Jo said as she raised an eyebrow.

Mica rolled her eyes. “Yes, now,” she said. “Something simple. Something honest. You don’t have to write her a love letter. Just let her know you’re still here.”

After hesitating for a beat, Jo pulled her phone from her back pocket. She read Evelyn’s last message. “I wanted you to know that I did accept the job. It starts in two and a half weeks.” Jo stared at it for a long moment, not letting herself react to the words that stung so deeply.

Taking a long breath, she tapped to reply.

“Hey. I’m sorry I didn’t text you back. I didn’t know what to say.

I still don’t, really.” She paused. Looked at the words.

Then she deleted the words and typed a new message.

“Hey. I’m sorry I didn’t text you back. I should have.

” Another beat and then she added three more words.

“I miss you.” Before she could do anything else, Jo hit send.

Sitting at the long conference table, Evelyn nodded politely as her new project coordinator droned on about stakeholder communication protocols.

The woman, who was bright, efficient, and very enthusiastic, had handed Evelyn a thick binder full of acronyms and onboarding materials.

Evelyn smiled, and murmured, “Thanks,” and tried not to look like her mind was somewhere else. Because it was.

Her phone buzzed in her blazer pocket, and Evelyn didn’t move at first. Her professional instinct told her to ignore it, but something in her gut twisted.

Holding up a finger to politely interrupt, she reached into her pocket and glanced at the screen.

Jo. Her heart stuttered. The message could say anything good or bad, but she had to read it.

“Excuse me,” she said, rising from her seat before she could think twice.

“I’m so sorry, but I need to step out for a moment and answer this text. ”

Looking surprised but polite, her new colleague nodded. “Of course,” she said. “Take your time.” Evelyn didn’t hesitate. She slipped out of the conference room and into the hallway, ducking into a quiet alcove near the water cooler. Once alone, she stared at the screen and read the message.

The last line made her suck in a breath. “I miss you.” Evelyn’s eyes stung, but she smiled anyway.

Tapping quickly, she typed her reply. “I miss you too. We need to talk.” She waited, heart pounding.

It didn’t take long for Jo to respond. “Yeah. We do.” Evelyn bit her lip. She stared at the screen, trying to find the best way to answer without getting too close to the real topic they needed to discuss. Doing it by text was not what she wanted.

After a beat, she typed again. “How’s the block party planning going?”

There was a pause, then Jo’s reply. “Honestly? I’m still not sure we can pull it off.”

Evelyn exhaled slowly, her fingers moving without hesitation now. “Can we meet after work? Talk about it. All of it?”

The answer came right back. “I’d like that. You up for a ride? Go somewhere quiet.”

A rush of warmth filled Evelyn’s chest, and she wrote back. “I’d love that. Tell me when and where.”

“I’ll pick you up at your place after work,” Jo messaged. “Wear something warm.”

Evelyn smiled, her heart lighter than it had been in days. She slid the phone into her pocket and took a deep breath, trying to refocus on work. It wasn’t easy. When she returned to the conference room, the project coordinator was waiting. “Everything okay?” she asked, and Evelyn nodded.

“Never better,” she replied, thinking of being on the back of the motorcycle with Jo. The wait was going to make it a long afternoon.

Leaning into the curve of the road, with the early evening sun slanting low through the trees, Jo wound their way toward Mount Tabor Park.

The GTO had been tempting, but something about taking the motorcycle felt right.

Evelyn’s arms were wrapped snugly around Jo’s waist, her body pressed close, and Jo could feel every subtle shift in weight.

She hadn’t realized how much she had missed the feeling of Evelyn’s body against hers.

Jo’s heart beat a little faster, not from the ride, but from the woman holding on to her like she didn’t want to let go.

They crested a small hill, the road narrowing as they approached the entrance to the park.

Jo slowed the bike and pulled into a gravel turnout near the base of the hill.

She cut the engine, the sudden silence filled only by birdsong and the distant hum of traffic.

As if it were something she did every day, Evelyn slid off the bike behind her, pulling off her helmet and shaking out her hair.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright.

“Mount Tabor,” she said. “I love this place.” She glanced up the wide path that led into the trees.

“I used to come here all the time when I lived on the eastside. I loved to hike the trails, and it gave me time to think.”

Jo smiled as she dismounted, unhooking the blanket she had strapped to the back of the bike. “Great,” she said. “Figured it was your kind of spot.”

Evelyn turned to look at her with a soft smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jo said, returning her smile. “I’m thinking we could go to the clearing near the top with the great view. If you’re up to climbing the hill.”

“And if not?” Evelyn asked, raising an eyebrow. “Were you planning to carry me?”

“Maybe,” she said with a little laugh. “Don’t tempt me.

” They started walking, the wide path winding through towering evergreens and moss-covered oaks.

They passed a few joggers, a couple walking a golden retriever, and a kid on a longboard.

Jo glanced at Evelyn as they walked. The woman’s face was calm, but there was a tension in her shoulders that hadn’t been there the last time they saw each other.

Jo wanted to take her hand, but she didn’t. It didn’t feel right yet.

Climbing the last set of stone stairs, Jo led them off the main path to a grassy overlook tucked away behind a grove of trees. The city stretched out below them. “Wow,” Evelyn stopped. “This is beautiful. We’re lucky it’s so clear.”

Pausing to look, Jo had to agree. It was a perfect setting. She carefully unrolled the blanket on the grass and dropped onto it while Evelyn sat beside her, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. For a moment, they sat in silence, watching the sun dip lower.

Not sure where to start, Jo cleared her throat. “Okay,” she said, not looking at Evelyn. “Block party.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Jo saw Evelyn glance at her, then look back at the view. “Yeah,” she said. “Block party.”

Her stomach tightening, Jo took a deep breath. “You still think I should do it?” she asked, and Evelyn nodded.

“I do,” Evelyn said softly. “I think it could help. And not only financially. I mean, yeah, it will raise money, but it’s more than that. It’s about reminding people what your shop means to the community. About giving them a reason to show up for you.”

Jo looked at her. “You think people will? Because I’m not so sure.”

When Evelyn turned to look in Jo’s eyes, her gaze held steady. “I know they will,” she said. “The garage has been a part of the community for a long time, and I know people respect you and Mr. Diaz before you.”

Still not sure, Jo swallowed. “It’s a lot of work,” she said. “And we don’t have much time to organize it.”

“I know,” Evelyn said gently. “But you won’t be doing it alone. I’ll help. Mica, Mr. Diaz, Rosa… all of us will.”

Feeling a renewed sense of hope, Jo took a deep breath. “Thank you,” she said, then smiled. “Let’s do it.”

“Yay,” Evelyn said, reaching for Jo’s hand, and then hesitating. “Sorry.”

She started to pull her hand back, but Jo caught it. “Don’t be,” she said, lacing their fingers together. They sat in silence for a few moments before Jo ran her other hand through her hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you back sooner.”

Evelyn squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry I dropped everything on you like that,” she said. “That wasn’t fair.” Not sure how to respond, Jo simply nodded, letting Evelyn continue. “I know the job changes things. But I think we can figure it out. If you’re willing to try.”

“Okay,” Jo said, not sure what Evelyn was asking. “Try how?”

“A long-distance relationship for four or five months,” Evelyn answered in a rush. “I know it’s not perfect, but people do it all the time.”

A long-distance relationship , Jo thought, working through what that meant.

Committed, serious… after only a couple of weeks.

Still, the idea of not being with Evelyn made her chest tighten.

She had never felt these emotions toward anyone.

So, what does that mean? Is a relationship what I really want?

She simply wasn’t sure. “I need to think about it,” she said softly. “But I’m not saying no.”

A relieved smile crossed Evelyn’s face. “That’s all I can ask.”