“Years. I still had my job. I lived with my dad so I decided to build a big garage in the back yard. Dad was all for it and I could take my time with the car. Worked on it nights and weekends. Saved my money for parts. When I made up my mind to join the fire department, I had even less time to devote to the car.”
A flicker of interest crossed her mind, making her wonder what made him join the fire department. But it disappeared as she stared at the shining car.
“You did a wonderful job. I know restoring cars is expensive.”
“Especially if you want to use original parts. Body work isn’t cheap either.”
“I love the black.”
“It had to be just right. It was originally white with a red top.”
“You’re kidding,” she said in surprise.
“I found a body shop that did excellent work.” He talked as he dug in his fries. “The shop did repair work for insurance companies, too. Those jobs came first since they had a deadline, working on mine in between. They had the mustang body for six months.”
“The body?”
“I had the engine on a hoist in my garage.”
Suddenly Cassie wanted to see his garage. She imagined a huge building with every sort of mechanical tool in existence. A huge open space with lots of room to work. Maybe even a few cars parked inside.
“What made you choose black?” It occurred to Cassie his truck was also black.
“Have you ever noticed there’s not a prettier car than black when it’s all shined up?”
“Black cars are pretty, but hard to keep clean.”
“That’s true.” Mike leaned back and Cassie noticed he’d polished off two of Peck’s barbeques while she’d eaten one.
“I’m glad you stopped here. I haven’t had Peck’s in a long time.”
“He serves the best barbeque.”
She picked up a fry and thought of how Mike spoke of his dad but never mentioned his mom. She wondered if his mother was still in the picture. Maybe Cassie should leave that topic alone.
“Does your dad live around here?”
“No. After his retirement, his sister bugged him until he finally gave in and moved to North Carolina. She thought he couldn’t take care of himself. Although, I think there was an ulterior motive. She said she wanted him close so she could keep an eye on him. But I think she was playing matchmaker, or whatever you call it. She told Dad I needed my space. She hinted that I needed to find a woman and needed the house for when I got married.”
“Sly woman.”
“I love my relatives, but I don’t need them running my life. Still, Dad moved. He’s happy.”
“He lives with her?”
“God, no. Those two would kill each other if they lived under the same roof. But she’s a great cook and carries food to his house every day.”
“And you stayed here.”
“I had a career with Station Eight. Dad sold me the house, dirt cheap. Wouldn’t have made me pay anything, but he needed money for a place in North Carolina.”
“Why did you become a firefighter?”
A flicker of sadness entered his eyes and was quickly extinguished.
“It’s in the genes.”
“In the genes?”