Lonely Heart (2 page)

I groaned. I would be dipping into my budget for my new home. Not to mention the baby’s room.

“How long will it take?”

He glanced at the cars filling the garage bays. “Maybe two days.”

It wasn’t like I had a choice. I followed Antonio to the office and waited for him to write up the work order. I reached for my iPhone in my purse and Googled the name of a local cab company.

No car meant cab rides to work. Cab rides plus a few hundred bucks in auto expenses meant something was going to have to give with what I needed for home and baby.

I needed more money.

My attention went to the two manila envelopes in my large bag. My future lay in those contracts. It was time to make decisions. As soon as I got home, I would take a hot shower, grab a large bowl of fruit, some juice, and examine them both.

For once in my life, I needed my decision to be the right one. I’d had enough dealing with the consequences of making the wrong ones.

I closed my eyes, unable to ignore the wave of nausea as a result of the gasoline fumes.

“Señora?”

Antonio waved a hand indicating he wanted me to come outside. He placed a chair against the building so I could sit in the fresh air, and handed me a bottle of water.

I smiled in appreciation. “Thanks.”

He tilted his head to the side and examined me. “No se apure. My sister couldn’t stand the smell either when she was pregnant. How far along are you?”

Surprised by the question, my mouth nearly hung open. “Six months.”

“Ah, good luck with your baby. Is your
husband coming to pick you up?”

I shook my head. “No husband, just me and baby. I’ve called a cab. They should be here soon.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, but he appeared surprised. Self-conscious, I sat a little straighter and twisted the cap off the water. I guess I should get used to that type of reaction.

“Bueno. I’ll give you a call as soon as I know what the damage will be. Have a good evening,” he said, then walked towards my car. I watched him shut the hood, then park it on the other side of the lot.

I gulped the cold liquid. The fresh air helped ease the nausea. It dawned on me his simple act of kindness was more than Luke had done in months.

It would probably be the last nice thing a man did for me. After all, once I had my baby, looking for love would not be an option.

“Antonio, ¡ven aqui!”

My uncle always seemed to know when my hands were under the hood of a car.

“Phillip, tell him I’ll be there in a minute.” The mechanic in training walked to the office while I finished installing the fan belt on the ’02 Chevy truck. “Okay, wrap this up, then go home,” I said when he returned.

Phillip nodded and went to work.

I wiped my hands on my rag. The thing was so black from grease it didn’t work. Deciding to wash my hands instead, I flipped on the light in the restroom and cringed. The lady who came in here no doubt thought men were heathens. We needed to put someone on bathroom cleaning and remind the guys this bathroom wasn’t just for employees. I pumped soap in my hands, scrubbed, then rinsed.

My uncle stared at me with creased eyebrows when I entered his office. “Do you know what ‘ven aqui’ means? You American born Latinos try too hard to be American. You forget where your family comes from.” He shook his head. “My nephew, you should know better.”

I chuckled. “Sí, and I speak Spanish just fine. My hands were under the hood of your son’s truck.”

Tio Alejandro grunted.

“You should make him fix it himself.”

He swatted the air in disgust. “I gave up on teaching my boys a long time ago. Their Mami spoiled them. Americanized,” he muttered, then spit a wad of chewing tobacco in a cup. “But you know cars. I’m proud of you.”

“Gracias.”

He chuckled at my use of his native tongue.

In truth, my cousins weren’t spoiled; they preferred to earn a living in ways that kept them from getting dirty, jobs my uncle referred to as ‘sissy work’. In his mind, getting grease under your nails and sweating were signs of an honest day’s work, not sitting at a desk in an air conditioned office.

And worst of all, they didn’t support the family business…unless receiving free tune-ups counted as support.

My cousins had no clue what type of goldmine their family owned. Some people looked down at auto mechanics…until their car broke down. No matter how much money you made, eventually your car needed to be serviced.

I made it a point from a young age to learn everything my uncle would teach me about cars. While my cousins played the latest video games, I made two dollars an hour sweeping up the shop and organizing tools. Many days after school and summer vacations were spent getting a free education.

I graduated high school, then earned my master mechanic’s license. Working for my uncle was satisfying, but I wanted a shop of my own. Taking the ASE-Certification and Master Technician test in order to renew my license emphasized how far behind the business was. My uncle needed to update the technology and tools needed to service newer cars. Unfortunately, he remained stuck in the past. He worked behind the scenes maintaining the shop’s records and making sure we stayed up to code. He wasn’t interested in the new technology found in newer cars. His disinterest limited the amount of work we could do.

“Here’s a list of supplies we need. Pick them up before you go home.”

I accepted the paper.

“Get cash from the money box. There will be enough.” He made notes on a notepad before sticking it in a desk drawer filled with notebooks, his ancient filing system.

I shook my head. “You need a computer or at least a laptop. What if something spills on those? All records will be gone.”

“This has worked for over twenty years. That computer stuff is for young people. Plus, I don’t need the government spying on me.”

We’d had this argument before. “It’s a tool, Tio, not spyware. What does the government need to spy on an old man for?” I dodged a balled up sheet of paper.

“I am not old. I’ll probably outlive you since I avoid the radiation from computers and cell phones. This works just fine.” He picked up the ancient corded phone on his desk and dialed. The rotary phone was as old as me.

Maybe the old man had a point. I’d run through at least six generations of cell phones in the past few years.

I dug into my pocket, pulled out my iPhone 5, checked the time, and smirked. Everything I needed was in my hand. The push of a few buttons revealed the part needed for our newest customer’s car required a tool slightly different than what we used. Her car was a 2009. We normally worked on cars 2000 and older.

When finished with his call, I relayed the information.

“Why did you agree to do that job, Antonio?” He shook his head in exasperation.

“Porque Abuela sent her. Turning her away would be bad for business.”

He knew as well as I did that word of mouth referrals were more valuable than money spent on promotions. Promotions were another tool he refused to take advantage of. In his mind, servicing the community from this same location for over twenty years was all the advertising he needed.

“¡Aye! How many times must I say this? We don’t work on new cars.”

“It’s not new, it’s four years old. We need to step up─”

He waved his hand. “Antonio, business is fine. Everyone is not going to have a new car.”

I ground my teeth in frustration and held my tongue.

“Get what you need to finish the job, nothing more.”

My smile remained hidden until I left his office. One day he’d come around, like it or not. I left his office and walked to the safe hidden in the storage room next to his office. I heard the smug voice of my cousin, Ramon, the oldest of my uncle’s sons, drift around the corner. Money in hand; I gritted my teeth in preparation for our encounter.

“Is it ready?” he asked when I emerged from the storage room.

I didn’t rush to respond.

At 6’ 2”, Ramon outweighed me by at least 15 pounds. Over the years we experienced our share of scuffles. Sometimes I won, sometimes he did. We were often confused as brothers by outsiders, something we could never be. Ramon was arrogant, demanding, and believed everything revolved around him. He viewed his father’s business as a cash cow waiting to be taken advantage of. No matter how hard his father tried to teach him the basics of car maintenance, he refused to learn. Being a mechanic was beneath him.

I walked past him, stuffing the money in my back pocket.

“So what, you’re deaf now?”

My back to him, I walked towards the bay area of the shop. “I hear just fine. If Phillip has everything put back together, then it should be.”

“Phillip? The new guy? Didn’t I say I needed my car by five? It’s…,” he consulted the expensive watch on his wrist. “five-thirty.”

I turned to address him, taking a moment to assess his attire. Clean haircut, shaven face, slacks and a fancy shirt. Date night. “You’re late, but you want to argue with me?”

“I’m late because you’re slow.”

I stopped, turned towards him, eager to wipe that sarcastic smirk off his face. “Slow? You rather I did a rush job and say…accidently cut your brake line?”

Ramon stepped towards me, assuming a stance that meant he was ready for a fight. “Is that a threat?”

I sized him up and then walked away. Somebody needed to be the bigger man. I entered the garage just as Phillip shut the hood of Ramon’s truck.

“It’s all good.” He grinned until his attention went over my shoulder.

I could damn near feel Ramon breathing down my neck. “Gracias, Phillip. Go home. I’ll see you in the morning.” When we were alone, I turned to address him, and stuck my finger in his chest. “I may not like you, but I take my job seriously.” I went to the peg board where customers’ keys were kept, grabbed his, and tossed them.

He smirked as he caught them in mid-air. “Thanks…grease monkey.” He laughed, climbed into his car, then started the powerful engine, revving it for emphasis. The radio blasted at an insane level as he burned rubber out of the garage and merged into traffic.

I headed for my truck, and forced myself to forget our encounter. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. Instead, I thought about the blonde with the round belly and a car that needed to be fixed. She’d been directed to us by family and trusted we would get her rolling again.

My uncle may not have been happy about it, but I was. Maybe completing the job would make him come around and realize the need to update the shop and offer services to a wider range of clients.

One job at a time.

“Ouch!”

I sat up on the sofa, stuffed another pillow behind my back, and rubbed my aching neck. A deep tissue massage would be perfect.

Luke gave the best massages. Massages that often led to hot sex.

That was another lifetime.

I grunted, trying my best to bend over my big belly and stuff a pillow beneath my knees. Settled, my attention went back to reading.

“Month number six,” I mumbled into the quiet room.

Since living alone, my lonely nights revolved around learning as much about being pregnant as I could. It wasn’t like any of my friends were in the same boat. Well, Yasmine was, but I was further along. I was the one braving the uncharted waters first, giving her advice along the way. If it wasn’t for my pregnancy book, I would be lost. Times like this made me wish I could call my momma. I tried a few times, but the distance between us in our relationship made it hard to have a conversation. She said she was excited about becoming a grandmother, but when I asked questions about what was going on with my body, the conversation became one sided.

Though she had given birth to four kids, I had a feeling her pregnancies weren’t highlights of her life.

“Stronger fetal activity…” I rubbed my belly as the baby moved. “Check. Abdominal achiness, constipation, heartburn, headaches, leg cramps…” The list went on and on. “Scattered Braxton Hicks contractions?” Hmm, you learned something new every day.

I popped another juicy grape in my mouth, lost in reading. I reached the end of the chapter when my phone rang. I checked the time. Who could be calling me at this hour?

The name on the caller ID made me groan. “Tiffy, why are you callin’ after midnight?”

My baby sister’s voice was muffled, but it didn’t hide the fact there were angry voices in the background.

I sat up. “What’s wrong? Tiffy!” I yelled, hoping she could hear me. The myriad scenarios ran through my mind. Though my sister was a wild child, for her to call at this time of the night, something really bad was happening.

“Kaity, daddy’s kickin’ me out!” Her sobs made her voice nearly unintelligible, yet there was no mistaking the message.

I breathed a sigh of relief. At least her life wasn’t in danger. “What did you do this time?”

“I didn’t do anythin’!”

Dad bellowed in the background while Tiffany cried. A shuffling sound came through the phone.

“Kaity, is that you?”

Oh great, my youngest brother was now on the line. If he was involved, it had to be serious.

“Justin, what the hell is goin’ on?”

“Daddy just put Tiffy out,” he said. “She really screwed up this time.”

I massaged my temple. Tiffany had a knack for starting all kinds of ruckus and pissing our father off. At times it seemed she intended to get back at him for treating us unfairly. “What happened?”

“He put her on restriction for sneakin’ out past curfew a few weeks ago. When he finally let her out, she lied about goin’ to her friend’s house for the night. Momma needed the car and called her to bring it back. When she didn’t answer her phone, she called Stephanie’s momma and found out Tiffy never showed up. Daddy tracked her down at her boyfriend’s house.”

My eyebrows scrunched. “Her boyfriend’s house…okay…”

“He’s twenty-eight.”

Well, that explained it. At the age of nineteen, Tiffany had no business shacking up with an older man. Talk about a disaster waiting to happen.