“Does he ever take vacations? Time off?”
“Not unless someone forces him. There’s nowhere Dad would rather be. What he can’t understand is why I don’t want to be under the hood of a car with him.”
Hearing something in his voice, she tilted her head. “He wanted you to go into the business?”
“Yeah. He’d hoped to turn it over to me someday. I guess he took it personally that I never wanted it.”
“That’s why you and your dad aren’t close? Because you didn’t want his auto repair business?”
“There’ve been other issues, but no need to get into those now. Let’s get this out of the way.” With that grim statement, he opened his door.
Stevie jumped out of her own side without waiting for him to come around. She shivered as cold air surrounded her, seeping through her layered tops and pants. She reached back into the SUV and grabbed her coat, bundling it around her as she followed Cole toward the open bay door. He wore only his pullover and jeans, but he seemed oblivious to the cold even though his breath hung in puffy clouds in front of him as he called out, “Dad?”
In response to Cole’s voice, a man emerged from beneath the raised hood of a battered sedan. Shop lights were trained on the car’s engine, silhouetting the man in their bright beams, and Stevie had to blink to bring him into focus. Wearing an oil-smeared blue uniform shirt, faded jeans and worn work boots, he looked like an older, more sun-grizzled and life-worn version of Cole. He still had a full head of hair, though it had gone mostly silver and was cut considerably closer than Cole’s. He was squarely built, still muscular in his fifties. His dark eyes were deeply set, and the lines of his weathered face seemed to have settled into a permanent scowl.
Wiping his hands on a shop towel, he greeted his son without obvious signs of surprise or pleasure. “Cole.”
“How’s it going, Dad?”
“Can’t complain. You?”
“I’m good.” Cole drew Stevie forward. “There’s someone I want you to meet. This is my wife, Stevie. Stevie, meet my father, Jim McKellar.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McKellar.” She gave him a warm smile and held out her right hand.
She might have expected him to show some surprise, but his expression didn’t change when he glanced at her outstretched hand then back up at her face. “I’m covered in oil,” he said, still scrubbing at his hands with the towel. “Good to meet you, though. When was the wedding?”
If he was hurt that he’d been neither informed ahead of time nor invited to attend, he kept the feeling well hidden. It wasn’t hard to figure out where Cole had learned to mask his emotions.
“We were married Friday,” Cole replied. “We’re on our way home from a short honeymoon in Branson. I thought you’d like to meet Stevie while we were in the area. Is Peggy here? Stevie should meet her, too.”
“Peg’s gone to some sort of program at her church. Won’t be home for a couple hours yet.”
“Next time then.”
Jim looked around uncomfortably. “You, uh, want some coffee or something? Got some left in the office.”
“Not for me. Stevie?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“Guess we could go in the house and sit down,” Jim said, though he glanced tellingly at the car he’d been working on.
“We can’t stay, Dad. Stevie and I both have to work tomorrow, so we should head on home.”
Something flitted briefly across the older man’s face in response to Cole’s reply, but Stevie wasn’t sure if it was relief or a touch of regret. Maybe a complicated mixture of both. Before she could decide, he spoke again. “Glad you stopped by. Congratulations on the marriage. I’ll tell Peg you said hello.”
Cole nodded. “Yeah, give her our best.”
Blinking, Stevie looked in disbelief from son to father and back again. That was it? No hugs or hearty slaps on the back? No questions about how she and Cole had met or when they’d decided to marry? About future plans or current activities? Just “hey, how’s it going, see you later?”
She tossed back her hair and spoke up in a bright tone. “Maybe you and your wife can visit us in Little Rock soon, Mr. McKellar. I’d love to meet her. We could treat you to a nice dinner out, get to know each other better.”
Her determined friendliness seemed to startle him a little. “We, uh, don’t get down that way very often. Guess you can see I’ve got a lot of jobs going. These folks want their cars back as soon as we can get ’em finished.” He cleared his throat, then seemed to feel something more was expected from him. “But y’all can stop by any time. I’m sure Peggy’d like to meet you.”
“We’ll try to get back soon,” Cole said, his tone as stiltedly cordial—and as emotionally distant—as his father’s. “We’re both pretty busy with work for the next few months, which is why we had so little time for a honeymoon. Stevie owns her own kitchen design business and she’s made quite a name for herself in Little Rock.”
Jim nodded, though he didn’t look notably impressed. She suspected he was one of those men who couldn’t imagine there was much more to kitchen design than deciding where to put the refrigerator. He glanced at Cole before asking gruffly, “You still playing around with computers?”