Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 108862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“Why would I tell you—” He sighs. “You said SOS. What’s the emergency? You got a snake in your dandelions or something?”
“Worse.” I lower my voice. “My sister’s trying to fix my toilet.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Sister? You mean the one you let win at chess? The one who needs ‘wins’ in life?”
“That’s her rental by the curb. She came in a couple days ago. Just please, like, come in, need me for something, say something, interrupt whatever sorcery is happening in my bathroom …”
“What am I supposed to do about that?” He eyes me. “I got the impression the other night we ain’t anything to each other.”
“Diego …”
He looks away.
I can’t help the feeling he’s not as angry as he seems. Like he’s just teasing me. Waiting for me to apologize. To grovel.
Should I apologize?
Should I grovel?
“It ain’t sorcery,” comes Connie from out of fucking nowhere, right behind me, causing me to fall back against the door. “It’s called cleaning trapped sediment outta your ballcock.”
Then Connie and Diego look at each other.
Something happens on both of their faces.
“Wait a dang sec.” She squints at him. “You’re the guy I just ran into at church.”
Diego says nothing, just staring right back at her.
I turn to Connie. “You guys … met already?” I look at Diego. “I didn’t know you were at church.”
“Outside the church in the sweltering heat,” Connie says, “if we’re going for accuracy here. What’s he doing here? How do y’all know each other?” Her voice changes to something suggestive. “How do y’all know each other?”
I cringe. “Connie …”
“We’re not boyfriends, that’s for sure.”
I look at Diego, mouth open.
“Hang on.” Connie takes a step closer. “Diego? Is that what I heard a second ago? You’re the hot mechanic?”
Diego lifts his eyebrows, caught off-guard.
I lift my hands. “Let’s not do this in my front doorway, please. I did not realize you two have already—”
“What’s goin’ on between you and my brother that has him all weird since I showed up?” asks my sister, squinting in suspicion.
Diego eyes her. “Have you considered yourself as an option?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she fires back.
“You’re driving him nuts. Why do you think he called me?”
“Driving him nuts? I just fixed his toilet ‘cause it was fillin’ up slower than molasses. Are you mistreatin’ my brother?” She takes another step toward him. “I may not look like it, but I got my black belt at twenty-two—”
I step between them. “Guys, please.”
“I’m just asking your mechanic a question,” says Connie.
“You’re threatening him with karate.”
“It was taekwondo. Is your memory really that bad?”
“You just said black belt.”
“Both have black belts!”
Diego snorts and looks away.
Her eyes snap to him. “Got something to say?”
“Do I seem like someone who would mistreat your brother?”
“Do you really want me to answer that, Mr. Fish Tank?”
His face tightens. “Nice to know you meant what you said, Ms. Tell Me Your Secrets, I’m Like A Fire Pit—”
“That was before I knew you’re fuckin’ my brother.”
“Stop!” I come between them, a finger in either of their faces. Neither of them seem to appreciate said finger. “I’m … not gonna have either of you drawing a weapon on the other!”
Diego makes a face. “The hell kind of a weapon do you think I could possibly—You just saw me come over from my porch.”
“I got needle-nose pliers,” says Connie flatly, lifting the tool.
“NEW PLAN!” I shout, startling them both. I face Connie. “Put away the tools and change.” I face Diego. “We’re getting breakfast. Please join us. It’s on me. Actually on me this time. Crepes. Country Lovin’. The worst of the church crowd should be cleared by now.”
He frowns. “I already ate earlier.”
“Well, you’re eating again. And we’re gonna sit at a table like three civilized people …”
“Why?”
“Yeah, why?” says Connie.
My patience is shot. “Because you just cried about missing the crepes here, and you’re both important to me, and maybe I would just like a moment where no one’s threatening someone else with martial arts or pliers.”
“Wasn’t threatening him,” says Connie.
“Didn’t feel threatened,” Diego grunts back. The look Connie shoots him suggests she picked up on the insult in his voice.
I close my eyes, take a breath, and swipe my keys off a hook by the door.
I’m in the car with Connie in the front and Diego in the back. I have Chase Holt playing on the radio at full blast. Connie’s got the visor down checking her makeup in the tiny mirror while Diego keeps trying to look at me through the rearview. I’m in a land of delusions whistling along to the music like it’s my favorite tune, pretending I’ve got everything under control.
Guess I was wrong about the lunch rush. The place is packed when we arrive. No tables are available, so the three of us end up in the tiny waiting area, squeezed onto a creaky bench by a cactus that looks as prickly as I feel.