I wasn’t a fool to think I would be able to go home to our small town and not see her or have someone speak of her. Small towns did that, they liked to talk. It would be only a matter of time before they were talking about me and I knew it. You didn’t come back to a small town after screwing up as badly as I had and think that people wouldn’t talk.
I had to pass through town before I could reach the family-owned garage. Dad was the third generation mechanic to run the garage, it had been one of the very first businesses in town and it was now the oldest original still standing today. The others buildings had been redeveloped or like the church, they had burnt down a long time ago. Not much else had changed in the five years since I’d left and that felt comfortable.
I had grown up here and the place was as familiar to me as my own face in the mirror. The Millers still owned and run the supermarket, the library still had its seasonal window display; it was always something I had looked forward to as a kid, to see what was going to be in the window next at the change of the seasons, the war memorial was still surrounded by a well-manicured box hedge and three flag poles waving the different services flags proudly in the slight breeze. The chemist, the butcher and the hardware store stood side by side along the street just as I remembered. Town Hall was opposite and next door to that was the police station which had only ever had two or three officers on duty at any time.
Slowing for the round-about my eyes were drawn to the little shop on the opposite side of the intersection. It was new with a façade of tinted glass, a striped pink and white awning and a cute cupcake sign boasting Sweet Nothing’s scrolled across it. If it hadn’t been for the cupcake sign I would be forgiven for thinking it was some kind of adult pleasure shop.
The sound of a horn blasting behind me brings me back to the present with a jolt from my trip down memory lane and I was now holding up traffic.
As I pull into the driveway at the garage I couldn’t help the smile creeping across my face at the familiar sight of my dad in his old blue coveralls, wiping his grease covered hands with a rag. The old man looked good, time had always been kind to us Coxen men.
Climbing from the cab of my ute, Dad pulls me into a hug.
“Ollie. It’s good to see you, son.”
“Hi, Dad. You’re looking good.” He claps my back once more before releasing me.
“Nice wheels.” He whistles low and steps back to take in my car, dad had always had a fascination with cars for as far back as I could remember. My younger brother, Drew had grown to share his passion and I had no doubt that he would one day take over the garage. He deserved to, he’d spent years under dad’s wing learning everything the old man had to teach and then some. He circles around taking in all the angles of the car before coming to stand beside me again.
“’64 right?” I nod. He definitely knew his stuff. The door creaked as he pulled it out before he turned back to face me. “Original interior?”
“No, the seats were reupholstered but everything else, yeah.” I watched as he sat behind the steering wheel, I can see he wants to run his hand over everything but he hesitates to touch anything.
“It’s alright, dad. Go ahead. We can even take her out for a ride if you want.”
“No, mate. My hands are filthy and a lady like this deserves to be treated properly. Besides, your mother would never forgive me if I kept you from her a minute longer.” Reluctantly he climbs out, moving with care. I laugh, even after thirty odd years of marriage; he was still scared of my mother.
“Yeah, okay.”
“Maybe later, though?” I knew he was keen, I had never known him to pass up an opportunity to get behind the wheel of a classic car like my old EH ute.
I chuckle, “Yeah okay. See you soon, yeah?” Dad nods before I bring the car back to life, my dad watches and waves as I reverse out of the garage driveway, before steering the car in the direction of my childhood home.
* * *
Mum had been baking; the aroma of rosemary seasoned lamb greeted me as I pushed the heavy door open.
“I’m home.” And for the first time in a long time, I truly felt like I was.
“Ollie!” Mum rushed from the kitchen, circling her arms around my waist. She felt smaller in my arms than the last time I had seen her. “You’re finally here.”
“Yeah, mumma. I’m finally here.” She steps back and smiles up at me. She was looking older than last time I had seen her but she was still quite the beauty she had always been.
“Have you been to the garage?”
“Yeah, I stopped to see dad before I come here.”
“You look tired. Looks like you’ve come home just in time, Oliver.” She waggled her finger at me before retreating back to the kitchen. I hadn’t been home in years and I had always felt a twinge of guilt every time I had to cancel plans with my parents because of my crazy work schedule. They’d always understood and a couple of times a year my parents and Drew would come into the city to visit.
I follow along behind her, ready to offer a hand with dinner.
“Can I do something?” Leaning against the sink I watch as she dotters around, shuffling from the fridge to the stove and back again.
“Set the table. That would be a great help. Thank you.” Collecting the dishes and cutlery I leave mum to finish with dinner whilst I set the table in the dining room. The dark hardwood table and chairs were just as I remembered; the set had been in my grandparent’s home before they were in our house. Mum had inherited them after Grandma passed away and Pop was moved to a nursing home.
Running my hand along the table top and the childhood memories came flooding back, I remembered the time we were all sitting down to Christmas dinner but no one had turned the oven on to cook the turkey. It had turned out to be one of the best Christmas dinner’s we’d had as a family because we’d sat around talking so much and laughing till there were tears. Drew had sneezed with a mouthful of mashed potato; Pop had been sitting opposite him and ended up sprayed with the food. It had been sitting around this table when our parents had told us that Grandma had passed away in her sleep, the tears that day had not been from laughing.
My trip down memory lane was short lived when Drew wrapped me in a bear hug before lifting me off the ground. “Brother, you’re home. About fucking time you showed up.” My feet hit the floor with a loud thud as Drew put me back down, releasing me from his stronghold.
“Yep, I made it and everything is just like I remember.”
“Not everything, Ollie. Some things or should I say some people have changed since you left.” I knew he meant Daisy, even without seeing the wink he gave me over his smug grin. “But you’ll see that in time.”
Drew pats my back before exiting to get washed up for dinner and I was left alone again. More memories return, this time of Daisy Sweet, the only girl I had ever come to love and desert all in the matter of the same summer break. She’d loved me once too but she hated me now, she’d told me as much the last time we’d seen each other and I couldn’t blame her, not when I was too busy blaming myself for breaking the beautiful creature’s heart. Sometimes when I think of her I could still feel the sting she’d left on my cheek before she’d told me she never wanted to see me again.