No hint of accusation colors his voice but it’s there. Or maybe that’s my own guilty conscience supplying it. I didn’t go by his house last night when I arrived in town. Didn’t get a chance to call either. That’s why I’m here. I just underestimated the speed of Pike’s End’s grapevine.
“Yeah, I wanted to come by and let you know.” I glance over my shoulder as if I could peep the town gossips loitering on the curb across the street. “But it seems like the news already got to you first.”
“There’s this thing called a telephone,” Leif says, voice conversational but with a flinty note. “And you didn’t have to come to my job to see me, I have a home. Where we don’t have an audience.”
Yeah, that’s not option. Leif has been out to visit me in L.A. over the years because I can’t return to Pike’s End. For…other reasons but also because of Dad. He’s been gone three years now, but Leif still lives in the house we grew up in. I haven’t been able to bring myself to return there yet. Too many memories. Painful ones. There’s too much anger inside me, too much grief that I haven’t resolved with Dad yet, which I’m still working on. I’d lost my mother, and he’d essentially taken my one remaining parent away from me by turning into an emotionally and mentally absent drunk. And then he died, taking away any chance for reconciliation or for me to air how I felt.
Yeah, I have issues.
“I can come back, Leif,” I murmur.
He’s quiet for a long moment, staring at me. But then his gaze drops to Gunner, and his eyes soften.
“Nah, you’re here now. And so is my nephew.” Slipping his glasses and mask over his head, he sets them on a counter and loosens his overalls, sliding them over his shoulders until they hang around his waist. His black T-shirt hugs his lean frame as he moves toward us, giving chin lifts to Mac and Gideon before focusing all his attention on Gunner. “Can I?” he asks, holding his arms out.
“Yeah.” I shift Gunner off my hip and into my brother’s outstretched hands.
Gunner goes to his uncle without complaint, probably because he’s a friendly baby, and Mac, Gideon and I are standing right there. He chatters away, his only really discernible word “hi.”
Hearing it, Leif smiles and says, “Hi, Gunner. I’m your Uncle Leif.”
My son smiles his gummy grin up at him, patting Leif on the chin, and I watch my brother fall in love with his nephew in real time.
“He looks like Mom,” Leif murmurs, rubbing a hand over the baby’s back as Gunner grabs his necklace and plays with it.
“Yeah, he does.”
“Hey, Leif,” Asa calls out. “Take the rest of the day off and spend with your family. That Chevelle can wait. We have another week before delivery.”
Leif nods, his attention not wavering from Gunner, but Gideon holds up a hand, shifting forward.
“Hol’ up. A Chevy Chevelle? What year?”
Asa arches an eyebrow. “A ’64.”
“Shit.” He shakes his head, hazel eyes bright with interest. “Can I have a look?”
Did I mention he’s the reticent brooder and acompletegearhead?
The corner of Asa’s mouth quirks, and he shrugs a shoulder.
“Sure. What does the lead guitarist of Bloody Sunday know about cars, though?”
Gideon strides forward, oblivious to the wide, fascinated gazes that follow him.
“I was raised in a garage. My father and uncle were mechanics. They’re coming up here from Baltimore for a visit. Don’t be surprised if they drop in at your garage,” he warned. Jerking his chin, he adds, “Hey, I have a ’67 Chevy Camaro in storage back in L.A. If I have it shipped, would you do the work on it? Let me help out? I’ve always wanted to learn the restoration part of it.”
Shit, this might be the most I’ve heard Gideon talk in one conversation.
Surprise flickers across Asa’s face but he nods.
“Yeah, we’ll take your business and your money.” He smirks. “And having an honest-to-fuck rock star as an apprentice is good publicity.” He tilts his head toward the rear of the shop. “Let me get you suited up and I’ll take you back there to check out the Chevelle.”
Gideon follows Asa, and Mac and I look at each other. He laughs while I shake my head.
“I guess that means we’re staying a little longer,” I drawl.
“I’m giving him ten minutes before I go back there and drag his ass out. We’ll be here all night once he gets started,” Mac mutters. “You,” he jabs a finger at Leif, “go get your shit or do whatever you need to do. When we grab Gideon, we have to go. Fast.”