Page 35 of Over the Edge

“She married me, so either that or she pitied the hell out of me.” Fletcher readjusts his grip on the bag he’s carrying mid shrug. “Jury’s still out.”

Our waitress comes back and she raises a brow as she looks over the knee high decorative fence at Fletcher. “Fletcher, get in here and buy something or stop disrupting the ambiance of my section with your big mouth.”

“Annie, I’m wounded. I’m just saying hi to an old friend.” Fletcher gives her a pathetic pout.

“We’re friends?” Garrett asks.

“I teach this guy how to replace everything from spark plugs to brake pads, and this is the treatment I get.” Fletcher directs his words toward me.

“How I remember it, you were eating day-old donuts while Doug did all the teaching,” Garrett corrects.

Fletcher tuts. “I was part of some of your formative memories and I think that I deserve some respect.”

“I’ll teach you some respect if you keep disrupting the peace,” Annie presses as she starts to collect our dishes.

“What are you, a cop?” Fletcher slings back then flinches at the glare Annie gives him. “Fine. Give me one minute to ask what I gotta ask and I’ll leave your precious ambiance alone.”

“Good.” With that Annie collects the last plate and heads back toward the kitchen.

“Sorry about that…” Fletcher trails off as he looks at me, and I realize I never introduced myself.

I hold out my hand and Fletcher takes it with worn, grease-stained fingers. “Evelyn Mariano.”

“Nice to meet you, Evelyn.” He releases my hand then cocks his head toward where Annie headed. “Sorry about that. Little sisters, you know.”

“From living my life as one, I have a bit of experience. No offense taken. I make my older brother wish he was an only child.”

“Do you actually have something to ask, or are you going to keep hovering?” Garrett’s voice cuts in, clear and deliberate, like he’s just as annoyed as Annie.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your date.” Fletcher’s eyes dance with mischief as his gaze flicks between Garrett and me.

“Not a date,” Garrett corrects quickly, jaw clenching.

I love it when men are so eager to deny they’re with me. Really, a great ego boost.

Fletcher forges on as if Garrett didn’t say a thing. “If you have a minute, my apprentice is off today and I’m having a tough time with this old Volkswagen, you know the type. There’s this angle I can’t quite get. I had a bit of a boating incident that snapped my wrist and the doc doesn’t want me to force anything. I’d risk it, but she’ll notice if I get home tonight and make a fuss.”

Garrett looks at me then to the clock tower. “Evelyn and I are in the middle of something.”

“I don’t mind, we can include this as part of our outing,” I say, trying not to sound like I’m jumping at the opportunity.

Admittedly, I’m curious. I doubt that I’ll be offered more from Garrett about the affinity for fixing cars I witnessed a few days ago. This is likely one of the few chances I’ll get to learn more.

“We’ll meet you at the garage after we pay,” Garrett says as he reaches for his water.

“You better tip Annie well with all that fancy ass money of yours. She might be a pain in my ass but she’s damn good at her job.” Fletcher salutes with his free hand before heading off.

“Do you have an extra pair of coveralls?” Garrett asks once we find Fletcher by the door connecting a small office to the work area of the garage.

There are two main bays. One, as promised, has a boxy, old Volkswagen Golf. It looks like it was taken straight out of a Wes Anderson film with its bright orange paint job and dramatic angles.

“In the back by the bathroom. Haven’t moved since the last time you were here. There should be a few clean ones.” Fletcher tosses the words over his shoulder as he uses his hip to push through to the office. “Evelyn, you can come with me. Sorry, this place isn’t all that spacious. Since I’m walking distance from the shops, people don’t usually wait here.”

Fletcher holds the door open for me to the room. Cracked leather chairs line one wall. Above them is a peeling paper with the Wi-Fi password. Most of the space is taken up by the type of huge greenish metal desk you can find at military surplus sales.

When Garrett comes back, he’s wearing blue coveralls with a blank name tag. Fletcher leaves the office to meet him at the car. I can't make out what they’re saying and I doubt I would be able to understand what they were talking about if they were. After a few moments, they stand upright and Fletcher laughs as he thumps Garrett on the back. The sign of friendly affection has Garrett’s expression souring. At least he’s like that with everyone and not just me.

There’s a digital chime as Fletcher comes back into the office. “Sorry for stealing some of your time. He knows what he’s doing and the old couple who own this car are headed up to Niagara Falls. I can’t, in good conscience, send them up that way in a car that old in its current state.”

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