“Yeah. I’m sorry about … you know … what happened to your wife,” I say.
“Thank you.” The sadness I see in his eyes makes me feel bad for him. I’ve never been in love so I can only imagine how he feels, but I can tell that he is far from over her death. “If her passing has taught me anything, it’s to live life to the fullest. You never know what’s around the corner.” He exhales then shakes his head.
“I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for you.”
“It’s been tough, but having Indi has helped. She’s so much like her mother.” I smile when I see his face light up. I’d never admit it, but she has the same effect on me. “Do I need to warn you not to hurt her? To always treat her with respect? She’s all I have and she means the world to me, Carter.”
What? That’s the last thing I expected him to say. “No, Sir,” I answer before clearing my throat. Shit. Is that the right answer, or was that a trick question?
“Good,” he says gripping my shoulder. “I like you, son, but if you hurt or disrespect her in any way, I won’t hesitate to kick your arse. You understand?” When he smiles at me, I feel the corners of my lips turn up. This is not how I envisioned this conversation going. Indi and I will never be more than what we are, but it’s nice to know that her father isn’t repulsed by the idea of his daughter being with someone like me.
“Yes, Sir.” He nods and taps my shoulder like he’s pleased with my response.
“I called past the wreckers this morning and collected your personal belongings from your car,” he says passing me the plastic bag he’s holding. “I threw out the cancer sticks I found in the glove compartment. Don’t let me catch you smoking again, you hear.”
“Yes, Sir,” I answer dropping my head. I feel like a child being scolded, but on the other hand, I like the fact that he seems to care.
“I also found this.” He pulls a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. Without even opening it I know what it is. The sketch I did of Indiana. Fuck. Why did I leave that on the floor of my car? I should’ve thrown it in the trash, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to do that. “Did you draw this?”
“Yes,” I answer reaching for it. He pulls his hand back.
“It’s good. Do you mind if I keep it?” Christ. This conversation is getting more awkward by the minute.
“Sure,” I tell him. I’m sure I could draw another one if I wanted, which I don’t. We’re friends. Nothing more. “You’re not going to show her are you?”
“The picture?” he asks, a small smile playing on is lips.
“Yes,” I answer shyly. I don’t want her to think I’m obsessing over her or anything, because I’m not.
“Not if you don’t want me to,” he says, his lips turning up further. I have no idea why he’s smiling. I divert my eyes. The way he’s looking at me is the same way Indi does. Like he can see straight through me. He clears his throat. “Why didn’t you have full insurance on your car?” he asks changing the subject. I’m grateful for that.
“I couldn’t afford it.”
“Fair enough. The guy at the wreckers owes me a few favours, so I’ve asked him to get started on the repairs to the body. You can sue Cartwright for the damages. His parents can afford it. I’m going to talk to his father about it. He’ll probably agree to pay for the repairs before it comes to that. He won’t want this going public.”
“Thank you,” I say extending my hand out to him. Even though I’m still pissed about my car and the fact it’s going to take weeks, possibly longer before I get her back, I couldn’t ask for a better outcome.
••••
The rest of the week goes by without incident. On the days my mum needs her car, she drops Indi and I at school. The other times she lets me take it.
Ross talked with Cartwright’s father. He was right. He didn’t hesitate to agree to pay for any repairs needed for the car—in exchange for our silence, of course. Fat lot of good that’s going to do. This is a small town. Shit’s already spreading like wild fire.
Late Friday afternoon, Ross comes knocking on my door. “Got a spare half hour?” he asks. “I need your help with something.”
“Sure. Just let me tell my mum I’m going out.” I have no idea what this is about, but I go along with it. Once I’m seated in the passenger seat of his car, he informs me why I’m needed.
“It’s Indiana’s birthday on Sunday, so I’ve decided to buy her a small car. That’s where you come in. I’m working all day tomorrow, so if I’m going to have it here for Sunday, I need to pick it up today. You’re going to need to drive it home from the car yard.”
“Are you giving it to her today?” I ask.
“No. Frank across the road is letting me hide it in his garage until Sunday morning. I’m taking that day off to spend it with her.”
“Okay. Cool. Does she have her driver’s licence?” She’s lucky her father can afford to buy her a car. I know if my mum had ever been in that position she would’ve done the same for me. She always let me borrow hers though, until I could afford to buy my own.
“Yes. Only her provisional licence,” he answers.
••••
It’s getting dark when we arrive back at the house. Ross got me to park down the road for five minutes so he could go in the house and distract Indi. Frank was already waiting out front with his garage door open when I pulled into his driveway.
I had no idea it was her birthday this weekend. It has me thinking, should I get her something? We’re kind of friends. Friends do shit like that I guess. Christ. I don’t want her getting the wrong idea about us.
••••
Saturday, Indi’s dad invites me to come over Sunday night for a birthday dinner. I guess that means I have to get her something now. I’ll admit I did lay awake half the night wondering what sort of gift she’d like before he even asked me. I suppose my mind was already made up.
“Mum, can I borrow your car?” I ask walking into the kitchen.
“No,” Fuckwit says cutting in on the conversation.
“John. That’s not nice,” my mum replies. “Why can’t he borrow my car?” He clears his throat and squirms in his seat. As much as I hate him, I almost want to laugh. He’s usually very calculated with his attacks against me. Guess he’s slipping.
“If he can’t look after his own car, why should we reward him by letting him use ours? How is he ever going to learn his lesson?”
“That’s a little unreasonable,” my mum says holding her hand against her chest like she’s hurt or shocked by his words. If only she knew, ‘unreasonable’ is his middle name. “Carter had no control over what happened to his car. Why should he be punished for that?”
“You’re right, Elizabeth,” he says in his fake-arse full of shit voice. Placing the paper he was reading on the table, he rises from his chair, making his way towards her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he adds sliding his arms around her waist. My mum smiles up at him. Fuck, he has her hook, line and sinker. Of course he doesn’t apologise to me. Arsehole.
“My keys are in my handbag, sweetie,” she says smiling at me. I shift my gaze and hold it on Fuckwit.
“Thanks, Mum.”
“You can wash your mother’s car when you get home to thank her for her generosity,” Fuckwit grunts. Christ I’d love to smack that smug look right off his face.
“He doesn’t need to do that,” my mum says frowning.
“It’s okay, Mum. I don’t mind washing your car for you.” I walk out of the room before either one of them have a chance to say anything else. Or more importantly, before I say something that may upset her.
••••
After two hours of walking around the damn shops, I finally find the perfect gift for Indiana. I’m not used to doing shit like this. I hate shopping. I hate buying fucking gifts, period. It’s something I’ve never done before. With my mum, I always gave her money. I’m sure there were a lot of things she went without, but she needed money more than anything.