Chapter 10

Dean

Leaving Lib is hard. I handed her off to Jody this morning and that familiar ache in my chest came back as soon as I closed the front door, listening to her cry pathetically from the porch. I feel for Grace, because I know that if I think it's hard, then it must kill her. Driving to work, I run through my day in my head; I've still got that fucking Model-T that I know nothing about. Muscle I can do. Vintage? No. I'll just have to pawn it off on someone else, because after the body work, I've got nothing.

I've never earned a paycheck from doing legit work that I enjoy before. When I was with Lisa, I worked construction and man, it was dull. Hammer, nail, sand, repeat. There was no joy in it because I was so broken, and really, construction ain't for me anyway. Cars. Muscle cars are right up my alley. I can blast Metallica or ACDC over the speakers in the shop and get paid to rock out and drop in a big block 454 and completely blow it out with a new exhaust on someone else's dime and…well. You get the picture. I really like my job and at the end of the day, I get to leave it at the shop…there's no chance of something following my ass home or attacking me or my family. I live to see another day with my kid and my wife.

When I got Grace pregnant, I'll be the first to admit, it scared the shit out of me. I was raised by a terrible father and there was no way in hell I could do that to another human being. I was convinced that I would be an awful dad, quick to anger and easily frustrated, just like my old man was. I've kinda surprised myself; there's nothing I wouldn't do for that little girl and the idea of having more? Well, it crosses my mind on a regular basis. Lib is an easy baby. She eats, shits, sleeps all night, and only cries when something really bugs her. We never went through that "Holy hell, what did we get ourselves into?" phase that you hear about so often. Most of it, I know, is Grace. She brings a calm to the house that no one else could, and it might be because she's fifty-fifty, but it could very well just be Grace's personality. If she's calm enough to take on Serra, then she's calm enough to take on a newborn and a freaked-the-fuck out new father.

I pulled into the parking lot of my shop and was greeted by the typical panic of the morning. "Those Camaro parts didn't come in because of the snow," Eric was already saying as I walked into the shop. "They're still in Des Moines."

"So call Valerie and tell her Cherry Bomb is gonna be another couple of days," I said, closing my coat against the chill of the air.

Eric shook his head and said, "Nu-huh, bossman. She hates me. Thinks you're hot, though, so she'll accept it better if you call her."

"Fine," I said, chuckling to myself. I held my hand out for the house phone and dialed the number that Eric pointed at. I glanced up at him and shook my head. Eric was the son of the shop owner's and I had been picked over Eric to be house manager just on my skill level. He never wanted to be that involved with the shop, but since I came in and dipped my fingers in everything, he got a little possessive and pissy. Since my promotion, the kid won't leave me alone…shadowing repair work and hovering when I make phone calls to clients. "Hey, Valerie," I greeted as she answered the phone, "it's Dean from Precision."

"Oh, hello, Dean! Good news for my car, I hope?"

I made a face. "Not really," I said, taking a breath as I popped my neck, "the parts are being shipped from Des Moines and they haven't made it out here yet because of the snow."

She sighed and I tuned out her flirtatious complaining. It was obvious that she thought that I could somehow magically produce the parts we ordered to finish her 1969 Camaro. I let her finish and very calmly, I smiled and repeated myself, "Valerie, there's not much we can do. If you want the dual exhaust, you're gonna have to wait until the parts come. We don't carry everything here, so we had to order them from Des Moines." I smiled and held up a finger as another client walked into the shop. "They'll be here probably by the end of the week, depending on the weather."

Eric actually took the initiative to greet the new customer as I finished up with Valerie and the Camaro that she didn't deserve anyway. "Fine," she was saying. "I want the chrome exhaust, so I guess I'll just have to wait."

"She's gonna be untouchable," I assured her, "the motor is in and the transmission is completely rebuilt. Her last coat of clear coat went on last night. Except for the exhaust, she's finished."

"Well, thank you, Dean. I trust you," she answered, purring. "I know you did a phenomenal job."

"Thank you," I said, rolling my eyes and just trying to wrap the call. "I'll have someone call you when she's ready to get picked up."

"I'd love to hear it from you," Valerie continued.

I nodded and closed my eyes, trying not to laugh. "I'll see what I can do."

She hung up the phone and I glanced to make sure that Eric could handle himself at the counter. When I was satisfied that he wasn't scaring anyone away, I shrugged off my jacket, hung it in my locker in the back of the shop, rolled up my sleeves and greeted the cars in my bay. "Hello, ladies. Who's next?"

…..

"Dean, phone call, line three," came Eric's voice over the intercom as I lay on the creeper under the Nova on the rack. I rolled myself forward, out into the bay and sat up, walking over to the phone that was in my station. I wiped my hands on my pants, since all of my shop towels were missing, and picked up the phone. "This is Dean?"

"Hey, honey," came Grace's voice from the other end.

Immediately, I checked the phone in my pocket for missed calls from her. Two. Shit.

"What's wrong?" I asked; my voice more worried than I wanted it to sound.

Grace laughed, "Nothing, calm down. You just didn't answer your phone and I needed to know what time you're coming home. My meeting is going to take longer than it should because it's about next year's budget and Jody wants to have dinner with a couple of her friends."

"Probably not until six or six-thirty," I said, calming down. Grace was on her lunch break and needed an answer. Perfectly reasonable to call me at the shop.

She crunched on something as she answered, "Okay, that's fine. I'll still beat you," she said through her food. "That's all I wanted. You having a good day?"

"Yeah," I said, smiling, touched that she still took the time to ask about me. "Valerie hit on me again."

"You haven't seen yourself lately, have you?" Gracie responded immediately. "It's because you're so beautiful. Women just don't know what to do around you. I didn't."

I laughed, "I think Lib is proof that you did."

Hearing Grace smile over the phone was one of my favorite things about her. Without fail, when she smiled over the phone, her breath would come out like a silent giggle and it never failed to make me grin right back. "I'll see you tonight, lover."

"Yeah you will," I said. "Love you."

"Love you back," Grace replied automatically.

She hung up the phone and I turned to stare at the bitchy Nova. "Alright, Tramp," I said, thinking aloud, "just you and me now. Give it up." I walked over to the Nova and ran my fingers along its sandblasted exterior. The car refused to start and stay idling, and I was running out of things to replace. I popped my neck again and lay back down on the creeper. Rolling back under the Nova, I disappeared into my own world and tapped my foot subconsciously to "Sweet Child of Mine" playing over the shop's speakers.