Sidecar Crush

“Nice to meet you,” Scarlett said.

Kelvin looked up and nodded, then went back to his laptop.

“Well then, just let me know if there’s anything you need,” she said. “I won’t keep you. I just felt bad that I hadn’t been by yet. Not very neighborly of me, but it’s been a busy week.”

I walked toward the door just behind Scarlett. “Thanks, I’m glad you did.” I paused for a second, suddenly nervous to bring this up. “Um, Scarlett… I was wondering about your brother, Jameson.”

Scarlett froze and turned slowly on her heel. “What about my brother Jameson?”

“Well, I thought it might be nice to see him. Say hello.”

A slow smile crept over Scarlett’s face. “Would you like his number?”

“That would be great.” I grabbed my phone out of my handbag, hanging by the door. “If you don’t think he’d mind, that is.”

“Oh, no, I’m quite certain Jameson won’t mind one bit,” she said. “I’ll give you his address too, if you want.”

“Yes, please.” I wasn’t sure why she was smiling so big, but I entered Jameson’s number and address into my phone. “Thank you so much. It would be nice to catch up with him a little bit. It’s been a long time.”

“That it has,” she said, still smiling. “Y’all take care, now. Enjoy your visit.”

Scarlett left, and I went back into the kitchen. Kelvin eyed me.

“What?” I asked.

“How many people are going to show up on the doorstep with food?”

I shrugged. “Hard to say. A few more at least.”

He rolled his eyes. “What is with this town?”

I ignored him and looked down at the entry in my phone. My heart fluttered a little, seeing Jameson’s name there. Which was silly. He’d been my friend when we were kids, but he was a basically a stranger now.

It was hard to get those blue eyes out of my head, though.

“I’m going to see my dad,” I said. “I’ll be back for dinner.”

Kelvin mumbled something, sounding distracted. I grabbed the car keys and my handbag, and slipped on a pair of sunglasses. Maybe I’d call Jameson from Dad’s house. Or wait until morning. Now that I had his number, I was suddenly nervous about using it. What if he didn’t want to see me? Or he was too busy? It would be so disappointing if the only time I saw him was for a hasty few minutes in line at the Pop In.

I’d give myself a little time to work up the courage, and then I’d call. Or maybe I’d just send him a text. That seemed more Jameson’s style. He’d never liked talking on the phone, and he probably wouldn’t answer a strange number.

With that settled in my mind, I got in our rental car and headed over to my dad’s.

5

JAMESON

T he heat from the forge beat at me. Droplets of sweat beaded on my forehead and slid down my spine. The quiet of my workshop surrounded me. Nothing but the clink of metal on metal, the low roar of flames in the forge. I was at peace here, alone with my work.

I pulled the metal disk out of the heat with a heavy set of tongs and brought it over to the anvil. It had once been part of a piece of machinery, long since discarded. But with some heat, and shaping, I’d give it new life. It was what I loved to do. Take something that had been thrown out and use it to make something beautiful.

With two sets of tongs, I bent and shaped the disk as it cooled. It would take several passes through the heat to get it looking like I wanted. Working with scrap could be painstaking. I always added a tremendous amount of detail to my pieces. But that’s how they existed in my head. I could see every curve and angle. It was just a matter of bringing the vision in my mind to life.

My phone buzzed on the work bench. I put the tongs down and wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my forearm. Checked the call.

It was Deanna Silvers, my art dealer. She’d discovered my work a few years back and now she found buyers for me, especially for my larger pieces. She’d secured the commission I was working on, an installation for a brand-new building in Charlotte, North Carolina. It was the biggest thing I’d ever done, and the most expensive. The client had given me a surprising amount of creative freedom, simply asking for a piece that would look beautiful in front of his building. He liked my style, and he trusted me to come up with something amazing.