The lot is deep, with the shop set back from the road. Behind the ample lot is the fenced-off clubhouse. There doesn’t seem to be much business on a daily basis, but according to Ruby, it’s a hobby business anyway. Whatever that means.
She parks the SUV and we both climb out. She shoots me a questioning smile. I just shrug. After putting my hand in the questionable substance and then seeing Ryan’s cold indifference toward me, I basically vowed never to return. But after our talk, I figure I ought to make an attempt to get to know these people a little better. I’m going to be around for a long time, and it’s probably a good idea to try to make this place my home.
The office to the shop is locked up, and a sign hanging on the inside of the glass door reads GONE DRINKING. BE BACK WHEN SOBER. I snort while pointing at the sign. “So they’re closing up for good, then?”
Ruby snickers and leads us past the closed garage bays. The very last bay, just before the gate to the clubhouse, is open; sure enough, the guys are sitting around drinking. Not a single one of them has a useful tool in hand. Jim leans over a red tool chest on wheels, his elbows resting on top as he takes a pull from his beer bottle. Duke is parked in a black metal folding chair with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. Sitting on the cement, Ian picks away at his nails. Not a single one of them notice us until Ruby clears her throat.
Jim looks up immediately, a smile spreading across his entire face. I stand aside awkwardly as he stalks toward Ruby and wraps her in his arms. Choosing to skip out on the front-row action of seeing them make out like a pair of teenagers, I walk up to Duke and give the leg of his chair a kick.
“How goes it, Princess?”
“It goes,” I say. Duke and I have formed a strange relationship over the last two months. He is—in his own words—kind of a dick. But he’s also not that bad when the mood strikes him. We’ve moved past our rocky first meeting into what I would almost call a camaraderie. Mostly, I strike up conversations with Duke because he’s easy to talk to. There’s no awkward avoidance like there is with Ian. And aside from the prospects, who rarely ever talk but to repeat orders and ask for direction, Duke is kind of my only friend around this place. Now that I think about it, that’s really depressing.
“What brings you to town?”
“Sherwood Road,” I say, unable to stop myself from smiling. Duke raises his head and grins like a maniac.
“You’re turning into such a smart ass.”
“You give good lessons.”
“That’s not the only thing I give good,” he says, his smile turning lascivious. My eyes are wide, my jaw slack, and I think I’m brighter than a cherry tomato. My heart thrums in my gut as my eyes fall on the one person I hadn’t expected to see here—Ryan. He’s been so absent, I could swear it was on purpose. I have had to remind myself that I don’t know his routine and if this is normal for him. I could be making a mountain out of a molehill, except that Ruby’s asked Jim where he’s been a few times.
Ryan watches me from the shadows. His presence both infuriates and flusters me. We’ve spent, essentially, no time together. I’ve clocked more hours hanging out with Duke. And yet I can’t seem to let this thing go. A few weeks back, after I’d caught myself moving around in bed, trying to figure out which side Ryan slept on, I tried to diagnose myself. Recalling all of my conversations with my former therapist, I’m pretty sure the only reason I’m obsessing over him is to avoid what’s really been going on. Being in a new town, especially one that’s so different from Brooklyn, and having no life, is weighing on me. I thought I was bored in my father’s house. At least there I had responsibilities. Jim’s big request from me is that I lighten up, and Ruby’s is that I let her in emotionally. Neither of them wants the kitchen cleaned, which would be a heck of a lot easier than dealing with this emotional crap.
“Is that so?” I ask Duke, seeing Ryan’s expression darken as my suggestive comment is realized. Duke is in the middle of taking a sip of his beer when he realizes the opening I’ve given him and he nearly spits it out in response. From behind me, Ruby and Jim laugh quietly. Ian, as per usual, doesn’t react. The rest may be amused, but this is for Ryan’s benefit.
I place my hand on Duke’s shoulder and ask, “Anything special you want tonight?” Tension grows as Ryan’s eyes bore into mine. Duke sits up a little straighter and more interested than he was before. I can’t see Ruby and Jim from where I stand, but maybe that’s a good thing.
“Whiskey,” Duke says. “The good kind.” I pat his shoulder and lift my hand, letting the tips of my fingers drag across the leather of his vest.