Dad's Blue Pick-Up
Chapter Four
“Stop!” I laughed, bringing my hands up in front of my face as if they could shield me from the spray of the water. Adam was standing on the other side of the truck, a secret grin on his face as he aimed the water hose at me.
It’s been three weeks since our first meeting and we have spent every day together, me showing him around Mountain Brook and teaching him everything about the truck, and him slowly helping me come to terms with my father’s death.
The first day was hard. He had come over to pick up the truck and receive his first mechanics lesson and I couldn’t even open the door. I stood there, staring at the driver’s side window like I did the day of dad’s funeral, just willing myself to open it. Hating the idea that I was helping someone else fix it, that my dad wouldn’t be underneath the hood with me, explaining everything that he was doing as though it was the first time. Thankfully, Adam had seemed to understand. He stood behind me, never asking any questions. I think if he had, I would’ve completely broke. After about twenty minutes of trying, and failing, to start the lesson, I turned to him and decided we would walk around downtown instead. So that’s what we did. I showed him all the little shops that my little town of Mountain Brook, Alabama had to offer. Though he recognized the general store and some stores his mom used to love, a lot of places had gone out of business, with new ones in their place, since the last time he was here.
He never asked why I changed the plans, just followed me in and out of stores, cracking jokes and making me laugh. Just like he did now, with his clothes soaked and soap on his face because I dumped the soapy water filled bucket over him.
“Hey, payback’s a bitch, Bryn!” He ran around the front of the truck, trapping me against the garage door.
“Knock it out you two!” My mom suddenly yelled from the front porch, not able to hide the smile in her voice. “The water bouncing off the door is echoing through the whole house!”
“Bryn started it!” Adam called out then winked at me.
I threw my sponge at him, giggling. “Sorry mom!”
“So…” Adam drew out, picking up the sponge and throwing it into the now empty bucket. “Have any plans for tonight?”
I grabbed the hose from him, turned off the water, and started to wind it up. “Not really. Easton and Julie visiting mom for dinner and I think Asher is going to be home. I was just going to join them. Why?”
He brought the bucket over to me, having filled it with the wet rags we were supposed to dry the truck with. “Well, I was thinking maybe we could check out Vino for dinner.”
My heart skipped a beat and I looked at him. His head was down, like he was avoiding my eyes. Vino was a new restaurant that just opened in the heart of the downtown district. With its twinkly lights and charming ambience, it was recently voted this years ‘most romantic restaurant’ in Birmingham’s surrounding areas.
I’ve been hoping that, maybe, he could have feelings for me. I had already laid my heart out to Amelia about him, terrified of falling for someone who I didn’t even know would stay. He was a writer, a journalist for some big newspaper in the city. After weeks of not being able to produce print worthy articles, he was fired and decided to move here to find his inspiration again. During our first days together, he told me about his fear of never being able to write again. He would sit at his computer, begging for something, anything, to come. Apparently, it’s a fear most writers experience a couple of times throughout their careers.
But that was starting to change. He was writing more and more, staying up late into the night, the keys on his keyboard clicking away constantly. If he was finding his ability to write again, would he leave to try to get his job back? Would he search somewhere else?
“Vinos?” I asked, fishing for more of an explanation.
He shrugged. “I want to celebrate tonight. I got some news this morning and you’ve said you always wanted to try it.”
“Oh. Uhm, yeah. I would like to go to Vino.”
Adam finally looked up at me and grinned. “Great, it’s a date.”
It’s been three weeks since our first meeting and we have spent every day together, me showing him around Mountain Brook and teaching him everything about the truck, and him slowly helping me come to terms with my father’s death.
The first day was hard. He had come over to pick up the truck and receive his first mechanics lesson and I couldn’t even open the door. I stood there, staring at the driver’s side window like I did the day of dad’s funeral, just willing myself to open it. Hating the idea that I was helping someone else fix it, that my dad wouldn’t be underneath the hood with me, explaining everything that he was doing as though it was the first time. Thankfully, Adam had seemed to understand. He stood behind me, never asking any questions. I think if he had, I would’ve completely broke. After about twenty minutes of trying, and failing, to start the lesson, I turned to him and decided we would walk around downtown instead. So that’s what we did. I showed him all the little shops that my little town of Mountain Brook, Alabama had to offer. Though he recognized the general store and some stores his mom used to love, a lot of places had gone out of business, with new ones in their place, since the last time he was here.
He never asked why I changed the plans, just followed me in and out of stores, cracking jokes and making me laugh. Just like he did now, with his clothes soaked and soap on his face because I dumped the soapy water filled bucket over him.
“Hey, payback’s a bitch, Bryn!” He ran around the front of the truck, trapping me against the garage door.
“Knock it out you two!” My mom suddenly yelled from the front porch, not able to hide the smile in her voice. “The water bouncing off the door is echoing through the whole house!”
“Bryn started it!” Adam called out then winked at me.
I threw my sponge at him, giggling. “Sorry mom!”
“So…” Adam drew out, picking up the sponge and throwing it into the now empty bucket. “Have any plans for tonight?”
I grabbed the hose from him, turned off the water, and started to wind it up. “Not really. Easton and Julie visiting mom for dinner and I think Asher is going to be home. I was just going to join them. Why?”
He brought the bucket over to me, having filled it with the wet rags we were supposed to dry the truck with. “Well, I was thinking maybe we could check out Vino for dinner.”
My heart skipped a beat and I looked at him. His head was down, like he was avoiding my eyes. Vino was a new restaurant that just opened in the heart of the downtown district. With its twinkly lights and charming ambience, it was recently voted this years ‘most romantic restaurant’ in Birmingham’s surrounding areas.
I’ve been hoping that, maybe, he could have feelings for me. I had already laid my heart out to Amelia about him, terrified of falling for someone who I didn’t even know would stay. He was a writer, a journalist for some big newspaper in the city. After weeks of not being able to produce print worthy articles, he was fired and decided to move here to find his inspiration again. During our first days together, he told me about his fear of never being able to write again. He would sit at his computer, begging for something, anything, to come. Apparently, it’s a fear most writers experience a couple of times throughout their careers.
But that was starting to change. He was writing more and more, staying up late into the night, the keys on his keyboard clicking away constantly. If he was finding his ability to write again, would he leave to try to get his job back? Would he search somewhere else?
“Vinos?” I asked, fishing for more of an explanation.
He shrugged. “I want to celebrate tonight. I got some news this morning and you’ve said you always wanted to try it.”
“Oh. Uhm, yeah. I would like to go to Vino.”
Adam finally looked up at me and grinned. “Great, it’s a date.”