Page 30 of That's Not My Name

I jump up and down. “Deal!”

“Please stop jumping. Your poor brain…” He gets up from his stool, draining the last of his coffee, and brings the cup to the sink. I snatch it and start scrubbing with a soapy sponge. “I’m going to regret this,” he mumbles.

I laugh and rinse the cup. Shopping with me couldn’t bethatbad. “I think you’ll probably survive.”

“We’ll see.”

Fifteen minutes later, the dishes are washed and I’m back in the rain boots from yesterday. Wayne hands me the floral jacket and a black beanie. “For your wet hair,” he explains. “It’s cold out there.”

I twist up my still-damp ends, and tuck them into the hat. “Thank you.”

He unlocks the dead bolts and holds the door open for me. “Of course.”

Just like yesterday, the cool air is bracing in the best way. I suck in a deep breath and feel the cold settle into the deepest parts of my lungs. Wayne unlocks the van and I climb in, excitement bubbling under my skin. It’s a simple trip to the store, but it feels like an adventure and I’m all for it. I practically bounce in my seat, waiting for him to get in.

I get a closer look at his insanely clean vehicle today. The carpet has those zigzag streaks like it was recently vacuumed, and there are fresh black covers on the seats that smell brand new. A little green air freshener tree hangs from the rearview mirror, though I think it’s been there awhile because it doesn’t smell like pine in here. It smells like leather and woodsmoke.

It smells like Wayne.

I twist around to look into the back. The carpeted floor hasn’t been vacuumed as recently as the cab. It’s littered with grass, mud, and pine needles. And two plastic buckets full of tools sit behind my seat, with a shovel stuck between them.

He mentioned working from home while we were by the river yesterday, but I never actually asked what he did for a living.

Wayne’s door opens. He pulls off his jacket and throws it over the back of his seat before climbing in. He catches me looking around the van and pauses with his hand on his seatbelt. “Something wrong?”

“Nope, just looking at the tools. Are you a carpenter or something?”

He clicks the seatbelt into place and starts the van. “Sometimes. I’m a man of many talents, and I get bored easily, which means I change jobs every now and then. I finished a house painting job not too longago, and now I’m taking some time off to deal with anything that pops up during the renovations at the other house.”

“Do you own the cabin?”

“Yeah. It was my dad’s.”

“Must be nice not to have to pay for two houses plus renovations at the same time.”

He nods and backs the van toward the road. “Yeah. Those new cabinets are costing me a fortune.”

Cabinets? I blink at him, waiting for him to correct himself, but he doesn’t. “I thought you said the floors were being replaced.”

He hits the brakes, and the van jerks to a stop at the end of the driveway. For a second I think it’s because of what I said, but then a car shoots down the road behind us and he mumbles something about how dumb it is to speed on dirt roads before he starts reversing again. When we’re fully backed out, he throws the van in drive again and smiles at me. “They’re putting in the floors and the cabinets at the same time. I already paid the flooring bill, and now I start paying on the other half of the project.”

“Oh.”

Wouldn’t all that work take longer than a few weeks?

“You’ll have to find another house to paint then,” I say to break the silence.

He laughs. “That I will.”

Soft jazz plays from the speakers, and he turns up the volume as we make our way down the mountain and onto Highway 101. Soon the road curves and the Pacific Ocean stretches out beyond the stone barrier that lines the highway.

Wayne clears his throat. “You sure about this? It’s a bit of a drive—about an hour and a half. Pretty though. Almost all coastal highway, and you love looking at the ocean.”

I’ll have to take his word for it. Like everything else.

I shrug. “Yeah, I’m up for an oceanside adventure if you are.” Ninety minutes does seem like a long drive for a thrift store though. How is there not something closer?

“I’m always up for an adventure with my best girl.”

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