Page 21 of The Friendly Fall

“Well…” I begin, my eyes darting to the house and then back to Nick.

I have two options: suffer the embarrassment of Granny giving me a ride, or take his help. I’m not sure which is worse.

“Is it your car, or the truck?”

My shoulders sag. “My car. I think the battery is dead. Granny was gonna lend me her truck but I can’t … I can’t drive a stick shift.”

Nick nods, not remotely reacting in the way I thought he would. “Well, let’s fix one thing at a time, starting with your car. I have jumper cables.” I watch as he grabs the cables and then hops back into his truck, pulling it up close to my car’s hood. “Go pop the hood, please.”

“Right.” I rush to my car and do as he instructs, pulling the lever.

Nick expertly connects the red and black cables to the corresponding terminals of both cars, his hands moving with precision born out of familiarity. As he finishes the connection, he gestures for me to try starting my car.

I slide into the driver’s seat, my heart pounding with anticipation. I turn the key in the ignition, crossing my fingers that it will roar to life, but all that greets me is a feeble clicking sound.

Nick frowns slightly, his brow furrowing in concentration. “Looks like your battery is completely drained,” he remarks, his voice tinged with sympathy. “You’ll need a new one.”

“Great,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “Just what I needed.”

Nick studies me for a moment before easing himself out of his truck. “Where ya headed?”

“I’m going to the photography class at the high school.”

“Oh, I heard about that. My best friend’s wife, Vanessa, is going. What time does the class start?”

“Six thirty. I was hoping to get there early, but I’m not sure how that’s gonna happen now.”

He looks at his watch. “You’ve still got a solid forty minutes, and the high school is only five minutes from here. Pretty sure you could walk at a snail’s pace andstillmake it there early,” he quips.

My mouth drops open. “Are you beingsarcastic? I didn’t think you had it in you. I mean, I fell through the ramp and you were nothing but nice about it. But now I’mpositiveyou were secretly laughing at me.”

Nick looks confused for a moment. “Why in the world would I laugh at you? There wasn’t anything funny about you falling through that ramp. People can get seriously injured when that kind of thing happens.”

“Well, it was embarrassing, to say the least,” I mutter, fumbling with the hem of my flannel. It’s weird being this transparent, but there’s something about Nick that’s suddenly making it easy to overshare.

“You really shouldn’t feel embarrassed.” Nick’s voice is soft. “I’ve seen way worse. This one time, there was this drunk guy who decided to go skinny dipping. He then climbed a tree—naked—andthen couldn’t figure out how to get down. You falling through a bad landing wasnothingin comparison to that.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” I say, relaxing as a giggle slips from my lips. “At least I wasn’t naked.”

Nick is quiet for just a split second but then laughs. “Anyway…” His voice trails off. “How about this? I know a place nearby where we can get a good deal on a new battery. Let’s go pick one up. I’ll drop you off at class and then come back here and install it, so your car will be good as new next time you need it.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t let you go through all that trouble,” I protest. “I’m sure Granny can take me.”

Nick chuckles, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It’s no trouble at all. Really. I could give you a little tour of town while we’re at it. I’m a great tour guide, and it’s not often I get to show a newcomer my town.”

“Well, Idoneed a new battery,” I concede. “And a tour of the town does sound intriguing. But … we gotta make it quick, okay?”

“Lucky for you, this town is the size of a postage stamp,” he jokes, his laughter infectious.

I find myself smiling back. “All right, let’s do it.”

Nick’s smile widens as he gestures for me to hop into his truck. I grab my camera bag, settle into the passenger seat and buckle up. He takes off down the road, the engine rumbling beneath us.

As we drive, Nick points out various landmarks: the quaint bookstore run by an elderly couple, the diner known for its famous pie, the local church, and the park where residents gather for summerconcerts. People wave at Nick as we pass by, and he returns the greetings with a friendly nod and a smile.

I’m a long way from Chicago…

“And this is Main Street.” He gestures toward the row of charming shops passing by on either side. They are a mix of old and new buildings, with colorful awnings and flower boxes adorning the windows. “Over there, is Parker’s Pizza Parlor—best pizza in town, hands down.”

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