The Worst Best Friend: A Small Town Romance

My towing side especially keeps me running. Today, I shut down at noon because I’m waiting on a large parts delivery from Bismarck before I can get anything else done on the busted minivan sitting in my shop.

“Thought you had to get old Doug’s cars ready for the show? We’re only a few weeks away,” Grady says, filling a tall glass of water he glugs down.

Shit. I almost forgot how fast the clock is ticking.

Thelma agreed to have me check in like usual before the car show. I need to give the cars their normal tune up routine I’ve been doing since Doug was still alive and trusted me enough to care for his collection.

“I do, but I’ve got time,” I say.

“Still can’t believe that was his little Shelly you rescued the other night. God bless that pig.” Grinning, he takes a long drink of water. “The girl must’ve been about seventeen the last time I saw her.”

“Probably,” I say, acting as nonchalant as possible.

“How’s Thelma doing?”

“Basically back to her new crazy self. This town better bar the door knowing she’s got a new hip,” I say.

He looks at me over his glass, his eyes narrowed.

“What?” I ask. “I haven’t seen her, but Marty says she’s fine.”

“And Shelly?”

I clear my throat. “I haven’t talked to her much since I made sure she didn’t wind up under the loader.”

“Why not?”

“Why would I?” I raise my eyebrows.

Grady shrugs. “Nothing, West. I just recall a time when the three of you were inseparable.”

“Marty’s still my number one. Shelly...she was always just tail gunner. She’s got a different life now, and she’s done a lot of growing up ever since she moved away.”

“You used to watch her like a hawk. I remember the stories I’d hear from my brother and Aunt Faye.” He gives me another one of his famous grins, his teeth shining through his thick black halo of beard. “You two must have a lot of catching up to do. Just gotta make time for it.”

I clench my jaw, wishing I could disappear through the floor.

Uncle Grady’s not that much older than me. He’s always been more like a big brother than an uncle. He also knows me like a book he’s read so many times he can quote by heart.

I watched over Shel in those days because she needed it.

I was her protector, and she was my damsel in distress.

The brat next door who was too bouncy, too intense, too moonstruck, and way too young...

Shaking my head firmly to clear it, I look at him.

“From what I hear, she’s only in town for a few weeks till Thelma recovers. Then she’ll be flying back to D.C.”

“Unless she finds a good reason to stay longer,” he says sharply.

Before I can ask what the hell he means—wishing I didn’t already know—he gives me another bone-rattling shoulder slap and turns, heading for his backroom office.

* * *

Unless.

An hour later, those words are still branded in my mind while I’ve got my face in the guts of an old Volkswagen with a flashlight.