Lonely Heart Read online

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.

  Chapter 3

  “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 re
ached 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.

  “Kaity, she’s gettin’ ready to be homeless. Daddy’s not kiddin’. He’s got momma stuffin’ her clothes into garbage bags. Not suitcases, mind you, garbage bags.”

  “Justin, what can I do? You all are in Texas, I’m in L.A.”

  “Can she stay with you? I can put her on the Greyhound tonight. She can’t stay with me because I’ve got guys for roommates. Bailey’s wife can’t stand her. You’re her last resort.”

  I looked around my bare-bones apartment. Packed boxes still sat in corners. Maybe Tiffany’s misfortune would be my benefit. Lord knows she needed to get away from our father’s tyrannical reign.

  “Fine, put her on the bus and text me the information. Let me know how much it’ll be and I’ll send you back half. With the baby comin’, I can’t part with much more.”

  “Thanks. I’ll get her out of here as soon as I can. Take care of her.”

  “You know I will.” The call disconnected.

  Tiffany was as bull headed as our daddy. It seemed they bumped heads about everything from the time she learned how to walk. Even if she didn’t aggravate him, the fact she was a girl was enough.

  My mother bore two sons and two daughters for the man. All he wanted were boys. Girls, in his opinion, were headaches.

  Being female, and the oldest, made living at home unbearable. I couldn’t wait to escape the confines of the Rodgers household. The moment my acceptance letter from UCLA came in, my bags were packed. I high tailed it out of Texas after graduation.

  Nearly nine years later and I haven’t been back. Not even to see momma.

  Getting out of Bailey Rodgers Senior’s house was a good thing, but regardless, Tiffany would not live with me with her bad habits. Not with my baby on the way. When she got here, things were going to change.

  My cell phone chimed; Justin sent the bus information. Boy, he worked fast. The bus would arrive at six the following night. My car should be ready in the morning. Somehow, we would make this arrangement work.

  ####

  “What do you mean my car isn’t ready?”

  This could not be happening. How long did it take to replace a fuel filter? I knew nothing about mechanics, but seriously, this was ridiculous.

  “Señora, lo siento, it will be tomorrow,” the mechanic said.

  “Tomorrow? It’s been two days already. I need my car!”

  Tiffany’s bus was due in a few hours. I considered my options. I could call one of my friends, but they were by no means able to help. Ebony’s schedule at the zoo was tight, and Yasmine was in the middle of transitioning from being married to getting divorced. Though if I called her, she’d drop everything to help.

  Exasperated didn’t begin to describe my mood.

  “I will get my boss.” The line went dead as if I’d been put on hold, then words I couldn’t understand came through the phone.

  “Hola. Hola? ”

  “I don’t speak Spanish.” It was hard to keep the sourness out of my voice.

  “Oh, sorry, miss, how can I help you?”

  Finally, someone I could understand. “My car was supposed to be ready today.”

  “Ms. Rodgers? It’s me, Antonio.”

  “Antonio, you’re just the man I need to talk to.”

  “I know, I’m sorry. We got backed up here and well…I apologize.”

  At least he didn’t make up some crazy excuse. “That’s not enough. I have things to do and can’t keep takin’ a cab. For starters, I have to pick my sister up from the bus station… tonight.”

  “What time should I pick you up?”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear, stared at the screen. “Excuse me?”

  “You need a ride and it’s my fault your car isn’t ready. This is the least I can do until it is. Think of me as your personal taxi service, free of charge.”

  “Um…, thanks.” Okay, this was just plain weird. I’d heard of businesses offering free shuttle service at dealerships. This was an auto mechanic shop. But, if he was offering… “The bus arrives at six. Can you be here by five?”

  “Done. I’ll get your address off the work order.”

  The only problem resolved at the end of the call was the ride to the station. I still needed my car.

  At least if I was now accepting rides from strangers, it helped he was attractive, or at least he could be. The last time I saw him he was wearing dirty overalls covered in grease and grime.

  I went to my closet to find something to wear and tried remembering what he looked like. His hair was jet black and thick. He wore a five o’clock shadow that framed a nice pair of lips and warm smile. His red-brown eyes were very observant.

  Not that any of that mattered…

  At least once in his car there’d be no running away from telling me when my car would be ready.

  Chapter 4

  I arrived at Ms. Rodgers’ apartment at exactly five o’clock. Who knew she lived in the same complex as my grandmother? I checked the address on my notepad again. She also lived across the hall. Small world.

  She answered the door just as I reached for the doorbell.

  “Thank God you’re on time.” She reached for a sheet of paper and her purse sitting on the sofa. Her expression was quizzical when she faced me again. “What?”

  “Nice shirt.” I allowed my grin to spread.

  ‘Embrace Your Bump’ in big, bold, black letters graced the top of the shirt, while two hands resembling Mickey Mouse’s gloved ones seemed to wrap from the back of the pink shirt and stop on both sides of her belly.

  She looked down and laughed. “Oh, thanks. Sometimes I forget I have it on. It’s a gift from my friend who’s pregnant, too.” We stepped into the corridor; she locked the door, then grimaced.

  “Are you alright?” I reached out to steady her.

  “I’m fine, thanks. Just one of those Braxton-Hicks contractions. Nothin’ to worry about. I still have a few months before the big day. ” She
started down the walkway. “Sometimes it feels like there’s more than one baby on board.”

  I glanced at her as we walked to my truck. “Is there?”

  “Thank God, no. I’m already doin’ this on my own. Twins would drive me crazy.”

  Even though my Chevy S-10 was a low-rider, I was glad for installing the running board. I opened the door, then offered my hand as she stepped up and got in.

  “My mother gave birth to twins, my younger sisters,” I said once I got behind the wheel and started the engine. “They are fourteen years old and a handful.”

  “I bet. How does she handle it?”

  A glance showed green eyes watching me as she pulled long blond hair out of her face. I rolled up the windows, turned on the AC. “She didn’t. My mother died during childbirth.” My attention went back to traffic as we merged onto the street.

  “Oh…I’m so sorry.”

  I shrugged and fought to ignore the pain of memories. “So, which bus station are we going to?”

  Ms. Rodgers unfolded the paper in her lap to read off the address. “How far is that from here? After living in L.A. for eight years, there are still places I haven’t seen.”

  “It’s about twenty minutes from here.” She nodded and settled in for the ride. “I’m sorry about your car. It took longer to get your part than I anticipated.”

  “Will it be ready by Monday?”

  “I’m going to the shop as soon as I take you home. Hopefully it will be ready tomorrow.”

  “Thanks. And thanks for the ride. I was goin’ to call a friend, but they are so busy I try not to hassle them with my drama unless I have to.” Her attention went back to the window.

  “I take it your sister is the drama?”

  “That has yet to be seen,” she murmured.

  We rode in silence. I glanced over; she appeared lost in thought.

  “Ms. Rodgers?”

  “Oh, please, call me Kaitlyn. “Miss” is for old ladies.”

  “Okay, Kaitlyn,” I paused, surprised at how easily it rolled off my tongue. “Do you want to talk about it? I have three younger sisters. I may be able to share some advice.”