I’m sure my eyes bulged. “Daddy. We just started dating!”
“Yeah, but it’s clear that man has his mind set on the long term, and if Duane Winston turns out to be a reason for you to stay in Green Valley instead of following through with your absurd plans, then I’ll happily put up with him courting my daughter.”
I gave my daddy a sad smile and my heart fell just a tad. He didn’t bring up my plans to leave often, but when he did, he always used words like absurd, reckless, preposterous, misguided, and foolish—stopping just short of calling me stupid. I didn’t like disappointing my parents, so I never brought them up.
“Hello, sir.”
I twisted back toward the aisle, finding Duane standing just inside our pew with his hand outstretched to my father. The other three Winstons were loitering in the pew to my right. I realized they were all waiting to pay their respects.
After greeting my father, Duane turned his attention to me. He didn’t offer his hand. Instead he stuffed both into his pockets, nodding once in my direction and saying, “Jessica,” in that way he did, with a slight whisper, and giving me the entirety of his intense focus.
“Hi, Duane.” I tried to be circumspect and mindful—after all we were still in church—but it didn’t work. My simple greeting sounded beyond delighted even to my ears, verging on enthusiastic. Music only I could hear switched on; this time is it was Just the Way You Are, by Bruno Mars—except the shes were replaced with hes.
Goodness, I was pathetic.
Because of the distracting music in my head and the intensity of Duane’s attention, I missed most of the other conversation, and the friendly chit-chat between my daddy and the rest of the Winston boys. I was only able to recover when Duane shifted his attention back to my father.
“I imagine you and Jess have plans for the day?” I heard my daddy ask.
We didn’t. We hadn’t made any plans.
Therefore, I was surprised when Duane nodded. “Yes, sir. We do.”
“What are you kids up to?” he asked, using his Sheriff’s voice.
“We’re heading to the shop and I’m planning to teach Jessica how to change a tire.”
I’m sure my face betrayed my astonishment. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Beau try to hide his smirk, and I was glad my back was mostly to my father so he couldn’t see my expression.
“Good idea, son. While you’re at it, teach her how to check the fluids, change the oil and such. Then she can teach me and Jackson.”
“Be happy to, sir.” Duane gave my daddy a short, respectful nod then returned his eyes to mine; once again I was struck by how he was looking at me.
He was looking at me like he had plans.
***
“Brown sugar? Why would he put brown sugar in the radiator?”
“Because someone told him it would stop the leak.”
“Did it?”
“No. Brown sugar doesn’t work. But eggs do.”
I’d left church with Duane. All the Winstons had driven their own cars. Now I was facing him, one leg tucked under me, my elbow resting on the bench seat of his Road Runner and my face propped in my palm. I stared at his profile, trying not to notice how he’d rolled his shirtsleeves to his forearms. The man had beautiful forearms.
“Eggs? People put eggs in their radiator?”
“Yep. I’ve done it before to stop a leak, in a pinch. Some places in these mountains it’s easier to find a hen house then it is to find electrical tape.”
“Why do eggs work and not brown sugar?”
“I reckon because they’re heavier when cooked, sink in hot water. Brown sugar gums up but it floats.”
I stared at Duane for a long moment, thinking about his reasoning. “Huh… That’s crazy.”
He shrugged as we pulled into the Winston Brothers Auto Shop. “I’ve seen crazier. People with no money, desperate to have a working car are worse than patients with no health insurance or access to a doctor. They’ll try anything.”
“Tell me something else.”
“Like what?” He didn’t park out front, instead opting to wind the car around to the back of the building—which I thought was odd for exactly three seconds. Then I remembered it was Sunday. I surmised he didn’t want anyone knowing we were here and therefore checking to see if the shop was open for business.
“Something about cars and wackadoodle customers. Tell me something else weird or funny.”
Duane cut the engine, and glanced at me. “Let’s see… Sometimes people will complain about the cost of service, but we can’t do anything about how much parts cost. So Cletus came up with the idea of adding fake line items, to spread the cost around.”
“Like what?”
“Like muffler bearings.”