Flying Gold Page 6

  “Okay. So, can you bring the car Thursday? We have two months; I already have some plans for that engine.”

  I run through the logistics in my head. After work the drive up from Atlanta will take over an hour, but I can catch a ride back into the city with Mom in the morning. It’ll mean a five a.m. wake-up Friday morning from my mom’s couch. I’m tempted to just leave the car with Tiffani now. But this way means I can see her again in less than a week. And I want that like whoa.

  “I’ll bring it Thursday, then.”

  Chapter Six

  Tiffani

  It’s Thursday at six p.m., and Matt’s nowhere to be seen, so I lock up the shop, furious with him, and myself, and my whole damn family, who all left early. We’ve decided to have family dinner on Thursday this week, which means I can at least go to Tegan’s place for a while before I have to go home.

  I pull into Tegan’s driveway and park behind Tanner’s Camaro. No sign of Tyler yet, but he said he’d be here. Family dinner. One tradition we all agreed Dad would want us to keep up. But it’s hard without him, even over here. For one, Tegan only owns one pan—a cast-iron skillet I have to remind her to season—and I always have to figure out what to cook with whatever I can scrounge from her fridge. For another, everyone thinks they need to be cheerful, and right now, I ain’t feeling it.

  “Tiff, hey!” Tanner grins at me, the blue pit bull puppy rolling around at her feet. “I brought my Instant Pot and some fixings for stew. You’re off duty tonight.”

  “Oh, thanks. Need me to peel carrots or anything?” Off duty—off cooking duty. But still the dutiful daughter, keeping up appearances, holding everything together.

  “Nah, I bought the baby ones.” She holds up the bag. “Go keep Duke company? He’s in the garage.”

  I make my way to the garage, where Duke and Tegan are staring down at the engine of her GTO, Duke shining a flashlight on it.

  “Something exciting happening in there?” I tease, though we all know absolutely nothing exciting has happened to Tegan’s GTO in months.

  “I steamed the engine, hoping to find the leak.” Tegan frowns. “I think I’m going to have to drive it back to work and put it on a lift.”

  “Awww, she just likes to mark her territory, leave her alone.”

  Duke snort laughs, then reaches to tug on my ponytail. “How’s it going?”

  I nod, shoving my hands in my pockets, trying to sound cool and nonchalant even though my stomach is in knots. “It’s going.”

  “Hey, I like that kid you hired. He’s sharp as a tack.”

  I preen a bit at that. Tanner might’ve been pissed, but Ven is a good tech, and he fits in well with our close-knit team. “He is, isn’t he?”

  Just then, Tyler pulls up in his El Camino, music blaring. Tegan turns off her flashlight and leads us out of the garage.

  “Quite the welcoming committee.” Tyler nods as he climbs out of the car. “Help me carry this stuff inside?”

  I grab the case of Sam Adams out of the bed of the El Camino, leaving him to carry a store-bought pie and a carton of ice cream. Duke starts to protest, but I give him a sharp glare, and he shuts up. “You have cracked ribs.”

  “They’re much better.” He scowls. “Y’all weren’t so bossy when your dad was alive.”

  “Well, y’all,” I counter, “were his pain in the ass when he was still alive. Now you’re mine.”

  “Technically, he’s Tanner’s pain in the ass now,” Tegan says as she holds the door open for us, unable to let me have the last word on anything.

  “Who’s my pain in the ass?” Tanner looks up from where she’s browning the stew meat on the stove.

  “Me. For the rest of our lives.” Duke smirks, wrapping his arms around her waist. They look so happy, so intimate, it hurts. My breath catches in my throat, and I have to look away. Tyler meets my gaze and pantomimes gagging, then hands me a beer.

  Thank god for baby brothers.

  Two beers later, as we’re sitting down to Tanner’s pressure-cooker stew, I’ve finally got enough courage to speak my mind.

  “I want to sell the house,” I announce.

  All the motion at the table stops. Tanner’s mouth is hanging open. Tegan is halfway standing. Tyler’s eyes are wide and round as the Corelle plates on the table.

  “You can’t,” Tegan says finally, breaking the silence and sitting down. “Not by yourself.”

  Of course I can’t, or I fucking would have already. Instead, I live in it, alone, surrounded by their childhood mementos and Dad’s stuff.

  “I know. Misty thinks we can get about three hundred and fifty thousand if we list this summer. Dad’s mortgage was paid off by his insurance. After her commission, split between the four of us, that’s like, I don’t know, eighty thousand-ish each?”

  None of them meet my eyes, so I barrel on. “Ty, you could finish your computer science degree.”

  Tyler’s face gets pensive, but he won’t look at me.

  “Tanner, you and Duke could use it for the wedding. Or for your own house.”

  Tanner sets her spoon down and pulls out her phone, presumably to check my math.

  “Tegan, you keep talking about taking a trip out to California to see the West Coast. You could travel in style and still have plenty leftover to finish the GTO.”

  Tegan scowls, staring at her bowl.

  “Tiffani, I think your siblings need more time,” Duke says softly. “To get used to the idea. This is all new to them.”

  “Y’all, please.” Tears flood my eyes and sting my nose, threatening to spill over. “Please.”

  “Why now?” Tyler asks.

  “Because I hate it,” I whisper. “I see him everywhere, and I don’t get to move on. You know how it feels, at the shop, when you see something of his, and remember something, and it feels like something’s stabbing you in the heart?”

  They all nod.

  “When I leave the shop, I go home to that times a thousand. And they aren’t just happy memories, because I took care of him. I watched him dying.”

  “You never said anything before,” Tanner says, closing her hand over mine. “You should have said something.”

  “When? When you were on the verge of falling apart because you were so terrified to tell us about your bankruptcy?” Her face turns white, and her chin quivers, but I’m on a roll now.

  “Or when you were spending all your time hiding in the parts room talking to your imaginary friend?” I turn to Tegan.

  “He’s not imaginary just because I’ve never met him,” she huffs.

  “Was I supposed to say something to Tyler?” I glare back and forth between the two of them.

  “Why not?”

  “Ty—” Tegan starts.

  “Above your pay grade,” Tanner snaps at him.

  “I’m part of this family too, you know.”

  And that, finally, makes me feel like shit. “I’m sorry, Ty.”

  “Maybe y’all need to just think it over.” Duke holds out his hands as if we’re a pack of angry dogs he’s trying to calm. “Tegan, Tanner, y’all need to put yourselves in Tiff’s shoes. Ty, they know you’re part of the family, they just think they know everything because they’re your big sisters and they had to change your diapers. Tiff—this is new to them. Give ’em time.”

  “You’re on her side.” Tanner peers at him, one eyebrow raised. “Aren’t you?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, princess, you’re all on the same side.” Duke crosses his arms over his chest and winces. “You just need time and space to see that.”

  “Are we?” Tegan stares at me. “’Cause it seems like this should be a decision we make together.”

  “Fine, you go live there.” I shove my seat backward and stand up, headed for the door.

  “Duke.” I hear Tanner’s voice, soft and urge
nt behind me.

  “Yeah, I got her.” Halfway to my car, he pulls the key out of my hands. “I’ll drive.”

  “Fuck off,” I warn him.

  “Your sister will kill both of us if you get a DUI. I’ll drive.”

  “I’ve only had three beers.” I reach for the keys, but fuck, he’s tall.

  “And you might weigh a buck thirty soaking wet.” He strides around to the passenger side and opens the door. “Get in.”

  Fine. I let out a huff and sit, buckling my seat belt.

  “Hey,” he says, climbing into the driver’s seat. “I am on your side.”

  “Whatever.”

  Just then, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

  I’m so sorry I’m late. There was an accident on 75. I’m headed to Mom’s house. Can I drop the car off tomorrow morning?

  I look at Duke. “Take me to the shop?”

  “Tiff—”

  “Relax. Matt’s dropping off his car, I’m gonna meet him there. I’ll hang out for a bit, drink some water.”

  “Okay.” He turns toward downtown.

  I text Matt back. Bring it over now.

  We make it to the shop before he does, and I have Duke park my car out back. We walk to the front of the building in silence.

  “How are you getting back?” I ask him.

  He holds up his phone. “Tanner texted my sister, she’s gonna give me a ride.”

  “I’m not drunk,” I whisper. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

  Just then, there’s a horn from the front lot. I look up to see Makayla in her old Corolla.

  “That’s my ride. Promise me you won’t drive for at least an hour.”

  I roll my eyes. “I promise.”

  “I ain’t kidding, Tiffani.”

  I swallow. “I know. I’m not either.”

  He stares at me for a minute, then nods. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I watch them drive away, and then I unlock the shop, and I go inside to wait.

  Matt

  I pull up out in front of American Heavy Metal, and there’s a single light on in the office. I can’t see through the blinds, but I turn off the car, and walk to the front door. I test the handle. Unlocked.

  Inside, I turn toward the office, only to have Tiffani round the corner and into my arms. She lets out a shriek, and I react instantly, shushing and gentling her, holding her away from my body.

  “Matt,” she whispers. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  I chuckle, relaxing. “You left the door open. Are you okay?”

  She nods. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Wait, what? I follow her down the hallway to the office, where she turns off the light and grabs a denim jacket. That’s when I realize she isn’t wearing her coveralls, but a short, floral dress and cowgirl boots. She came back to work to get my car?

  “Tiffani?”

  “Come on. I just came from family dinner, which was an absolute disaster, and I don’t want to go home, so I need you to make like we’re in Tracy Chapman’s ‘Fast Car’ and pretend I have a ticket to anywhere right now, okay?”

  Okay. “Yeah, whatever you need.”

  She pauses in the dark hallway, eyes wide in that sweet freckled face, and I can tell she’s been crying. “I need to make it all disappear.”

  Well, I’m no fucking magician, but I know what always makes me feel better when the world gets me down. We lock the front door, then the back gate, and climb into my car. I start the engine and glance over at her. She’s looking out the window, eyes red and puffy, and even though I have no idea what’s going through that head of hers, my heart breaks a little for her.

  “Did—did something happen in court today?”

  She blows out a breath. “Shane Tucker no-showed and my ticket got thrown out.”

  “Good. That’s good.”

  “Yeah. I fucked up either way, though. And I don’t think I can ask Mac for any more favors.”

  If that means she won’t be driving like a bat out of hell, I can’t say I’m mad about it. But that’s not what she needs from me.

  “Hey, I’ve got an idea of where we can go, okay?” I say softly, and she looks back at me and nods.

  According to the maps app on my phone, the nearest grocery store, a Publix, is two miles away, but there’s an Ingles between us and Old Man Traister’s field. I head there, leave the car running and tell her I’ll be back. She nods, not breaking her stare out the window.

  Inside the store, I find the snack aisle and the giant bags of popcorn. Next, a two-liter of Cheerwine, paper cups, a cooler, and a bag of ice. Last, I pick up a bag of Twizzlers from the candy aisle, and head for the self-checkout. In record time, I’m back in the car, and cruising down a tiny two-lane road.

  “Where are we going?” she finally asks, her voice scratchy like she’s just waking up.

  “To the movies, baby.”

  “Cool.”

  At Traister’s field, the movie has already started. I don’t mind, because I’ve seen it a few dozen times at least, but it takes me a minute to download the app to my phone and connect the sound. I turn up the volume and place the phone on the dash, speakers pointed toward us.

  I pour the barely chilled Cheerwine into paper cups, and hand her one. “Cheers.”

  She gives a watery laugh and brushes her cup against mine. “Cheers.”

  We watch in silence, and I’m watching her as much as the movie. As she starts to relax, she puts her knees up on the dashboard. A while later, she tugs the hair elastic from her ponytail. Her strawberry shampoo smell fills the car, sending a wave of lust through me.

  If she were any other woman, I’d ask if I could kiss her. But she’s Tiffani, my first love, and I have no idea what to do with her.

  As the Diva bleeds out on screen, Tiffani lets out a weary, hiccupping sigh.

  “Popcorn?” I ask.

  She shakes her head.

  “What about Twizzlers? They used to be your favorite.”

  She shakes her head again. “Why do you love this movie?”

  That’s a complicated question, but I have no choice to answer it honestly.

  “A great filmmaker doesn’t just show you something beautiful—though Besson did. They don’t just make you laugh, or cry, though he did. A great filmmaker gives you something to feel, something unique and incomparable. This movie—I was a kid when I saw it—it left me awed. I didn’t want it to end.”

  She nods. “I love that even though it’s a Bruce Willis movie and he’s everything you expect, the real hero of the story is Leeloo. I think this was the first time I saw a woman as an action hero. And yeah, she was nearly naked and the chicken thing was just fucking gross, but it meant something to me.”

  “Yeah. Representation is important. We’re still fighting that battle.”

  “Behind the camera too. I read things.” She glances at me. “Is it really such a sausage fest?”

  And how do I answer that?

  “In a lot of ways, yes. The best cameraperson I know is my friend Elspeth. She’s never headed up her own crew. I always ask for her first, on any job I take, but a part of me always wishes she would say no, she’s got a DP job that conflicts. But it hasn’t happened yet.”

  Tiffani nods. “I’m glad I work with my sisters. Mostly. I can’t imagine working in any old shop. On nights like tonight, that’s the only thing that holds me there.” Her chin trembles and she wraps her arms around her knees.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She shakes her head again, and we watch. As the credits roll, she looks over at me and smiles. “Thank you. Can I drive back to the shop?”

  “Of course.” I hand her the keys and open the door. As I’m walking around to the other side, she scoots over the shifter and slides into my seat.

 
; “Fasten your seat belt.” She grins.

  And away we go.

  Chapter Seven

  Tiffani

  I’m laughing, giddy from the rush of it all as I pull into the parking lot. I put the Chevelle through the paces on those tiny back roads, with Matt laughing along beside me. Maybe he couldn’t see the way driving like that feeds my soul, but he certainly seems to enjoy it too.

  “Jesus, Tiffani. That was intense. Why?” He follows me through the building to unlock the gate into the back lot of American Heavy Metal. “What do you get out of it?”

  “Why not? Have you ever done anything that felt so much like flying?”

  “Well, actual flying.” He laughs. “But it’s more than that, isn’t it? You get off on the recklessness of it.”

  “It turns my brain off. I have to focus on the car, on the road, on my skills. Since Dad died, the memories overwhelm me. The questions. What could I have done differently? If I had called Tanner, if Tanner had come back sooner, would he have pulled through?”

  “Oh, Tiffani.” I can hear pity in his voice and I hate it. I grab him by the front of the shirt.

  “I can’t get out of my brain; I can’t turn it off. It’s a special circle of hell, you know? I’m stuck in my own head, like I can’t live in my body anymore. But your car? Fuck me, Matt, I can live in that driver’s seat. The only thing that turns off my brain is driving too fast.”

  His hand comes up and clasps mine, and I realize I’ve pulled him close. Awareness floods my senses. The scent of his skin, the warmth of him under my hand. The soft thud of his heartbeat against my fist.

  “I can help. I can stop it.”

  “H-how?” And I know—I know what he means, and god help me, I want it too.

  His teeth flash white, a quiet, confident smile, then his lips find mine in the dark, and after all this time, they’re still familiar. The drag of stubble on my chin contrasts with the softness of his full lips moving gently over mine. The sensation ignites the same response it always did, only now I know so much better what to do with it.

  I slide my hand up to his hair, wrap one leg around his hip, and I open my lips, hungry, greedy. I’m desperate to feel something, needing him to erase the fear and grief with his hands, mouth, any part of him I can take. He tastes like the soda we drank, but also like my memories of him, feelings from ten years ago roaring back to life like we’d never stopped kissing each other like this.