Pieces of it All (3 page)

His sponsor, Maggie, meant everything to him. She had contacted her cousin Nelson regarding a job opportunity for Harvey. In their last therapy session before being set free into the world, Maggie told him she couldn't be prouder of how far he'd come and he deserved a fresh start. Employers wouldn't know recovering drunk topped his resume, but only completing school through the tenth grade and not even having a GED to show certainly wasn't an asset in the hiring process. He and Maggie became friends, despite the rule against personal relationships. She made him feel as though a mother would - cared for and loved. True, loved was a strong word, but Maggie may be the closest he'd ever get.

He arrived at Rivertown Auto Parts with fifteen minutes to spare. Perfect. He had to make a good first impression. The job wasn't his just because Nelson was Maggie's cousin. In his workshop about finding work after rehabilitation, the instructors stressed the importance of punctuality. Always late in the past, usually after a day or night of drinking kept him pinned to his bed in a near coma, he swore to be different this time. Maggie promised a fresh start. "This is your chance to start new, to be a brand new man." That was what he strove for now.

Damn, the summer was relentless. It only just begun, but the meteorologists predicted a long, hot season, which meant every hick in town would spend the next three months complaining about the heat, followed by seven months of it being too cold. Make up your fucking minds, people.

Standing in front of the building, Harvey wasn't sure if the muggy air or his nerves took his breath away. He cleared his throat and quickly rehearsed a few interview answers in his mind.
I learn fast. I take pride in my work. I left my last job because ...
if that came up, game over. He straightened his light green polo shirt, sliding his hands down his khakis to release any of Bullet's hair. Time to impress.

The ding of the door startled the man behind the counter when Harvey walked in. He tossed his magazine aside. A quick glance at the cover showed
Maxim
. Harvey couldn't help but laugh. He picked that up whenever he had a chance. "Hello," he said, his voice cracking. "Ahem," he released the tension in his throat. "Hi. I'm Harvey Etheridge. I have a ten o'clock appointment with Nelson."

The man pointed at Harvey as if to say something, but returned his hands to the counter for a quick pat on the Formica. "Nelson! Some guy is here to see you!"

Real tactful
, Harvey thought. He didn't know the first thing about being professional, really, but this guy wasn't it. The man told him Nelson would be right out and excused himself. Awkward conversation was something Harvey wanted to avoid, so he simply nodded. His nerves didn't leave space for small talk with this asshole.

A place to sit would've helped him to relax a little. It wasn't like a waiting room existed, but a chair could do the job. The manager at least had an office. Interviews weren't typically held out in the open, were they? He imagined having to stop answering a question to allow Nelson to ring up a sale, or a customer observing Harvey's failure to impress, hiding the embarrassment of the situation with a smile. The clock ticked above the counter. Only three minutes passed? He put his hands in his pockets, immediately taking them back out to check the top and sides of his hair. Ninety degree weather and this mop on his head weren't friends. He must've fed it half a bottle of hairspray to try and keep the frizz at bay. Was there enough time to find the restroom and check for armpit stains? Ugh. Probably not. At least Nelson wouldn't forget him.

"Harvey?" A balding man held out his hand. "I'm Nelson Anderson. Good to meet you." He was tall, lean and the hair he
did
have was entirely gray. The round glasses reminded him of Harry Potter.

More anxious than moments before, his throat swelled as his sweaty hand made contact with Nelson's.

"It's okay, Harvey. Don't be nervous." He patted him on the shoulder. "Come on back."

He guided Harvey behind the counter, down a small hallway to a door with a marquee that said NELSON ANDERSON. "Have a seat." He shut the door behind them.

The chair, a deep maroon plastic piece of junk Harvey would have seen in his high school cafeteria, didn't provide any comfort. Even readjusting his back against the synthetic material didn't help, but caused more pain. The sterile room only had one thing hanging from the wall - a diploma from some school Harvey had never heard of. Bold, cursive words reading "Associate Degree in Business Management" stuck out from the yellowing paper.

Nelson sat behind a wooden desk with a cluttered table top. "Do you have a resume for me?"

"No." Shit. Not the first impression he wanted. "Maggie said I shouldn't need one. She gave you my information."

He shuffled through some papers. "Yes, you're right." He pulled out a piece of paper with handwritten notes on it. The upper left of the page was torn. "She called me and told me you know how to fix cars, so you'd know the inventory well, and that you're a quick learner. Seem to catch on pretty fast."

His polo shirt began to stick to his chest. "Um, yes. True on all accounts."

Nelson dropped the paper to his desk. He chuckled and scratched the top of his head and then ran both hands down either side of the graying hair left behind. "Loosen up, Harv."

He hated being called Harv. It was bad enough to go through life as Harvey. Shortening his disastrous name to something as lame as Harv irritated him, but if a prospective boss wanted to call him Harv, fine. He'd let Nelson call him anything as long as he offered a job.

"I'll be honest with you. I don't need to hire anyone on right now."

Hope drained his body, and he was sure any air conditioning had been turned off. "Okay. I'm sorry to have wasted your time."

Nelson put his hand up. "But, Maggie is my favorite cousin. We grew up together. If she thinks you can do a good job, I'm willing to hire you on for a part-time basis. You can cover people on their days off and when they call in sick."

"I'll take it. Thanks for the opportunity." Harvey couldn't believe it'd been less than 24 hours and he had a job already! Maggie was a miracle worker.

"I can offer you nine bucks an hour. I assume that's sufficient."

"It's perfect. Thank you so much. I'll start as soon as you need me."

They shook hands again. "Welcome aboard, Harvey." He pulled Harvey's hand to pull him a little closer to him. "No drinking on the job, you got me?"

Maybe second chances didn't come as easily as he thought.

Chapter Three

The gentle breeze danced against Beth's skin, a welcome interruption from the still, humid air. Given the choice of wrapping her body with a blanket protecting her from the cold air conditioning or the soft wind tickling her, she'd rather enjoy her book outside. The trick lies in dressing for the occasion, in this case a knee length black puffy skirt and pastel green A-line tank. Her legs enjoyed the exposure to the air as she curled up on the chaise lounge. The porch, which lined the entire front of her house, relaxed her as long as she had a book in hand.

Three weeks and not a peep from Lucy. Not even a quick text checking in. Beth stalked Lucy's Facebook page more often than she cared to admit, and seeing selfies uploaded pissed her off. An empty timeline didn't sting as much as an active one. Okay, so Beth hadn't put life on hold either, but a little pining would've been nice. Being cut out of her life hurt as badly as it sounded.

Ugh, she had to give in at some point. No matter who apologized first, they'd remain best friends. Damn! Giving in meant Lucy won. How many times had Lucy triumphed in the past? All of them, Beth figured. The wind caught her hair, strands escaping into the air. Fine. After reading another chapter, she'd call Lucy.

"Ahem."

The book fell onto her lap as she let out a gasp. Harvey Etheridge stood at the bottom steps of her porch.
The
Harvey. He still looked damn good. A clean shave exposed his smooth-looking skin, and she fought a gravitational urge to press her finger into the deeply set chin dimple. His simple white tee shirt clung to his chest, and his jeans had to be pasted on as well in this heat.

"Beth, is it?" Jealousy engulfed Beth as he placed his fingertip in the dimple. Lucky finger.

She grabbed the book off the ground and tossed it on the chair as she stood up. "Yes. Beth. Harvey, right?" Two could play this game.

A smirk covered his face. "Yep. We meet again." He combed his fingers through his hair, scratching the top of his head. "My dog, Bullet, ran away. Did he come this way? He's a tiny little thing, a brown pug with some gray above his eyes. Scrappy fellow for eight years old. Even in scorching hot weather, he sure can run and hold his own."

At least forty minutes had passed since she came outside. The street was so quiet - a gravel road tucked away behind a subdivision. Squirrels scurried across the lawn, and birds chirped in surround sound. If Bullet found his way to her yard, she wouldn't mistake the pounding paws on the lawn. Her book engrossed her, though, and she didn't even hear Harvey approach. "Sorry, I haven't. I'll keep an eye out for him." She removed her hands from the banister, letting them fall to her side. "Bullet, you said?"

He wiped his forearm across his forehead. "Yeah. My father loves guns, so he thought Bullet would be a funny name."

"I like it. If he shows up, I'll let you know. Friendly little guy?" She ran through topics in her head to keep the conversation going. What else could she ask about a dog? Was he a purebred? Did he snort? Did he eat a lot? Think. Anything.

He put his right leg on the stair, perching himself. "Sweet as can be. I'm sure he'd come to you and you could bring him home to me."

Harvey shoved his hands into his front pockets, loosening them more on his waist. She peeked at the little bit of skin exposed on his abdomen. Six pack, possibly? She hoped. "I better check a few other houses, and then pick up a new battery for my car before work tonight." He pointed to a bike he had parked just down the driveway. "Typically I wouldn't be driving this thing around town. I feel like I'm twelve years old."

The dark blue bike had a white stripe running along the handlebars. The banana seat made her butt cringe. "You don't look twelve years old."

"Doesn't mean I'm comfortable. I don't think I've ridden one since I was about nine."

She crossed her legs at the ankles and placed her hands back on the banister. "I'm still surprised I've never seen you before. Well, before that night you came by for, what again, chili powder?"

"Crap! I still owe your mom." He snapped his fingers. "Please tell her I'm sorry and I'll pay her back soon."

"She won't mind." Of course if he returned the spice, he'd come by again.

"Anyway, I've lived here most of my life." The dimple on his chin became a rest for his finger. "I've never seen you, either. I went to Focus First."

Only the troubled kids attended Focus First, an alternative school for those needing extra attention. "That explains why I never ran into you at school. I still think I would've seen you around town."

His smile fell from his face. "I don't know everyone here. I'm not too surprised. I just got back from a small trip, so I was off the radar. Besides, I'm a bit older than you. Even if we'd gone to the same school, we would've been in different classes."

Harvey couldn't be too much older than Beth. At least not old like thirty. At most he would have been a senior when she was a freshman, which didn't mean they'd have been strangers. Upperclassmen guys dated younger girls all the time. He probably had a type and she wasn't it - tall, blonde, a dancer or cheerleader, she assumed.

"Anyway, I should go. I need to find Bullet before this heat becomes more than he can handle."

Poor dog. "Okay. Nice seeing you again. Now that I know who you are, I hope to bump into you sometime."

He winked. "I'd like that."

Their eyes locked. Beth opened her lips slightly to release a breath as she massaged the back of her neck. The hair at the base of her neck was damp and her cheeks warm. When should she look away? Did guys like girls to ask them out? Should she ask him on a date? In order to break from her urge to burst into a fit of giggles, she detached from his stare. "I better get back inside," she thumbed to the door.

"Okay," he responded as he turned to leave. He slid onto the bike like he was Lance Armstrong. As he pedaled away, she secretly wished for him to turn around so she could see him one last time, memorizing every line in his face, each placement of each hair on his head. It was probably a good thing he hadn't, or he'd have seen her melt to the ground.

Once he was a speckle of dust down the road, she ran up the stairs into her bedroom. Like when she was a pre-teen with her first crush, she dove into the bed, a smile spread across her face. She laid there, her eyes focusing on every dot in the ceiling. His perfect face was etched into her mind, and she wished to touch his skin, resting her finger in that dimple. Oh, that fricking dimple. She covered her face with her hands and kicked her legs on the mattress. "Eek!"

She couldn't recall the last time giddiness overcame her like this. In middle school, she went to a Valentine's Day dance with David Porter. Two awkward and pimply pre-teens. They shared one small kiss, enough for them to be considered boyfriend and girlfriend for all of two weeks. She swore off boys after their brief interaction, until her sophomore year of high school. She met Ryan, a junior, in the library. He towered over her at six foot two. Every day he'd hug her before class, and she'd press herself into his chest, taking note of the rhythm of his heartbeat. Built like a football player, although he played baseball, he always reminded her of the stereotypical surfer boy with his dirty blond hair and bright eyes. They dated for about seven months. All their nights of making out never led to sex. Not that she didn't want to. Lucy always told her if she did it with him, he'd dump her and tell everyone how easy she was. In her heart, she didn't feel Ryan would ever do that, but she wasn't willing to take any chances. Their make out sessions always involved a lot of kissing and heavy petting. Sometimes they would just lay naked next to each other.