I nodded in response. “Thank you. That’s it?”
“Well, I guess maybe I’m also nervous…if Christy finds out that I’m with you…it’s just going to make things worse. She never got over what happened back then.” Carly whispered, still drying her tears.
“Oh, for goodness sake! She’s crazy.” I laughed. “I only went out with her a handful of times. It was totally casual and neither of us were that into each other. Besides, not my fault her little sister was so much…sweeter.” I winked at Carly, making her smile.
“Yeah, I could see why you’re done with this place and everyone in it.” I continued, finally pulling up to Joe’s garage.
Maple Cove had two garages. One was the fancy, modern one at the Canadian Tire right in the heart of town, but this one was Joe’s. Joe had been the only mechanic in Maple Cove for decades before the Canadian Tire chain moved in. And although he had lost business to the bigger shop, he still kept going. He was the kind of guy who took pride in his trade and still to this day worked on every car himself. The only downside to Joe’s was that he followed that old small-town clock. If you wanted it done right, Joe was your man; if you wanted it done fast, he wasn’t. I might have used this knowledge to my advantage. There was no way I was letting Carly out of my hands just yet.
“Well, here we are.” I stated as I parked my car and opened the door.
“This is the garage?” Carly asked, incredulous. “It looks like a dump! It doesn’t look like they can fix anything here. This place is falling apart!”
“Don’t worry, I know Joe and he does good work.” I reassured her, offering her my hand, which she totally ignored as she exited the car and rushed ahead of me.
“Welcome, eh!” Called a voice from the open door of the shop. An older man with a weathered face, work boots, and a plaid jacket stepped out into the sunlight and waved at us.
Carly suddenly slowed her pace and stepped back in line with me. “That’s Joe???”
I nodded.
“Matt, come on! He looks like the garage owner with the leathery skin from Schitt’s Creek, for goodness sake! Is this a joke? Does he even fix cars?” Carly complained.
Grabbing her hand and holding it tight, I whispered in her ear. “Don’t be rude, Carly. Joe’s a great guy and he does solid work. Would you have preferred Canadian Tire? Had we gone there, all your news would have gotten back to Christy before there was time for an oil change.”
I watched as she glared at me. She knew I was right, though.
We made our way over to Joe but weren’t even there a minute before we knew it was pointless.
“Sorry, sweetheart.” Joe’s happy-go-lucky tone continued. “That little car of yours, well, she’s gonna take some extra time. Gotta go dig through some older parts in order to fix
her up right, but you know, it’s Thanksgiving and all…” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m going to need to close up the shop early today. The missus is making her famous pumpkin pie.” He said brightly.
Carly forced a smile. “It’s okay. I appreciate you trying, Joe. I guess I should just come back tomorrow then?”
“Tomorrow or maybe the day after. It’s a big job. Probably going to cost you a pretty penny, too.” Joe answered, oblivious to Carly cringing right in front of him. “Also, did you get that package? I asked the courier to leave it at the desk of the inn. Thought you might need it.” He winked.
Carly bristled visibly. “Yeah, uh thanks.” She answered before turning on her heels and escaping back to my car.
I chuckled softly to myself. Watching her get embarrassed was delightful. I thanked Joe again and headed back to the car.
“This is bullshit.” Carly whined as soon as we were back on the road. “I don’t even need everything fixed. Just enough to drive it.”
I didn’t tell Carly that I’d already called my garage in the city and was having all the parts Joe needed rushed to him. He’d be able to fix that little shitbox of hers better than it had been before the accident.
The car was silent for a few kilometers, both of us trying to wrap our minds around the story we thought we knew and the one we were about to create.
“Okay, so let’s finalize our story.” I suggested as we sped down the highway towards the town center.
“Sure, whatever.” She mumbled, fidgeting with a strand of her hair.
I started simple. “We met at an art gallery in the city. And…” But she just looked at me and raised one eyebrow.
“I have been to a gallery before, you know.” I answered her disbelieving look with indignance.
“Okay then…” She nodded, her lips turning up a bit.
“Anyway, I was there for a work event and you had your art on the walls. We had a couple of dates, been inseparable ever since. Sound good?” I kept it short. Too many details and we would get lost in the mess.
“Uh sure, if your mom is not the type to ask questions.” She laughed.
I didn’t get it. The story seemed airtight to me.
“She’s a woman, right?” Carly continued.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I retorted.
“It means, my know-it all fiancé, that what you just suggested is nowhere near enough information and details to satisfy any woman!” Carly grinned and I found myself staring at those perfectly plump pink lips and wondering for the umpteenth time what they would taste like in my mouth.
“Okay fine, do you want to fill in the blanks?” I grumbled, half-knowing she was right.
“Sure I will, but not now. Just defer to me in the moment and I’ll surprise you.”
She punched my arm as she laughed.
“Dammit, Carly, I can’t do that. I need a plan, I need to know now!” I growled.
“Nope. This is payback for ditching me all those years ago.” She winked.
Fuck. I probably deserved that.
***
We were back in Maple Cove by 4pm and just a few miles from the family farm. My mom and step-dad had lived there for years and loved it. The land was technically still in Maple Cove, but my mom’s family had built right on the outer edges, so it was quiet and out of the way of the town center.
The long winding road to the house was bordered by trees. Fall colours painted the landscape, making it seem like a winding road out of a fairytale. I watched Carly as she took it all in, just the hint of a smile gathering at the corners of her mouth.
“Thought this small-town thing wasn’t your jam.” I teased.