Page 4 of Sweet Redemption
Chapter Two
Markus
“Damn it,” I hissed in frustration as I stepped out of the small one-car garage with a monster sized headache brewing at the back of my skull. This was what I got for not listening to my instincts.I’m a dumbass.
I should have just settled on the idea of taking the plane home. No. Instead, I decided to drive and now I was stuck in a town the size of a postage stamp.
Valentine, Oklahoma, which was barely six blocks wide and six blocks long. The town surrounded by miles of snow laced cornfields—which by the way, there shouldn’t be any snow in the middle of April, damn it. One gas station and two stoplights, what was not to love? You couldn’t get any more rural than this place.
Anyway, who would name a near desolate town Valentine? I wasn’t feeling any love right now. Not with a pierced gas tank from something sharp I accidentally ran over.
I knew I was screwed with my timeline to get to Chicago early, if this mechanic couldn’t fix my Porsche. I had two days left before the wake. Two days before I had to face my family. My brother.
What didn’t I expect from April weather. Though, I was glad to have taken the southern route to Chicago; the weather turned blustery and snow accumulation was growing between northern Texas to Oklahoma. The snow, wind and ice were like playing Russian roulette while driving these roads. And I had a punctured gas tank to prove it. Luckily, I didn’t get into an accident with another vehicle, or hurt someone, or worse.
I hoped that the mechanic named Mike could work miracles and get my ass back on the road soon. Just in case, I scrolled through my cell phone for possible flights out of Oklahoma City’s Will Rogers Airport, which happened to be two hours away.
Mike lumbered out of the garage and frowned at me. The big man rubbed the back of his neck as though he didn’t have the words to explain. “Well…” Damn, this wasn’t good. “It’s gonna take time.”
“How long?” I asked with gritted teeth, hoping he’d say an hour or two because I wasn’t eager on staying any longer in this town.
“Well…” The man pulled the cap off and scratched his balding head in a slow languid motion that matched his lazy tone and shoved the hat in his back pocket. “I have to empty the tank, remove it and weld it up—”
“Can’t you put in a new one?” I interrupted in a growl. I had no time for this shit.
He stepped up to me, towered over by a few inches and shot back, “Seriously man? Do I look like an auto part store?” He wiped his hands on a dirty rag from the pocket of his grayish blue jumpsuit and slowly shook his head. He had to be no older than me, around thirty-six, but from the deep lines around his mouth and the corner of his eyes, Mike lived hard. And the way the grease and dirt were imbedded under his nails of years of working under vehicles, he wasn’t the kind to mind getting dirty, especially in a fight, I imagined.
Granted, I never backed down from a fight, but this wasn’t the time to argue.
I backed up a step. “Okay. Then how long will it take to remove and fix the hole?’
“Hmm, it’s about eight-thirty now… tomorrow around six p.m. or Wednesday early.”
“What?” I exclaimed, raking my fingers through my hair. “Fuck. Listen, I have to be in Chicago by Thursday. Can you work overtime, or something to fix it? I’ll pay whatever.”
The mechanic’s puffy cheeks turned bright pink. He shook his head. “No can do. That’s the soonest.” Mike turned away, though apparently he wasn’t done talking. “Our winter Valentine festival kicks off at noon today and I don’t want to miss it.”
Festival? What the fuck does that have to do with my car?I looked around and spotted nothing related to a festival. No balloons, streamers, or even banners commemorating the event. Besides, Valentine’s Day was two months ago. Maybe Mike had sniffed too much gas fumes, because he wasn’t making any sense.
Mike cleared his throat. “The party is at the VFW down the street. It’s opened to the public. If you wanna go.” Like I had any plans on attending. I’d rather run naked in an ice storm.
I had to push. I had to be in Chicago on time…for my mother. It was the only thing I could do to make amends. This time I spoke with intense sincerity. “It’s my mother’s funeral Friday.”
The mechanic turned back around and eyed me as though he didn’t believe me at first.
“Seriously, it is. I took this road trip to…” My throat strained from the sudden pressure. Damn, why was I explaining myself to this man? “…to clear my head.”
Mike’s hard stare softened. An understanding flitted across his face before he spoke. “I’m out of gas for my welder. But the delivery for another comes at seven a.m. tomorrow. Will ten or eleven do? Mind you, it’s a temporary fix. You’ll need it replaced when you get to Chicago. And…missing your mama’s funeral is a bad thing.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Thank you.”
Mike shook his head again. “Thanks not necessary. It’s my job. You’re gonna pay for my time anyway.”
“Sounds good.” I wasn’t going to argue that point. I’d pay anything at this moment. “Well, since I’m here for the night, is there a hotel nearby?”
Mike pulled the ball cap from this back pocket, slapped it back on his head and pointed down the street. “Arlene’s. It’s a bed and breakfast place and there’s a restaurant right next door. I’m sure she can put you up.” He leaned in slightly and smiled, “And you’re in luck, she made her Valentine special.”
I gave him a single nod and gave him a thin-lipped smiled back.A restaurant next to a bed and breakfast?Wouldn’t that be a hotel with a diner? I didn’t argue that point either. “Arlene’s?”
