Chapter Text
Nate tightly gripped the steering wheel, clenching his jaw in anxiousness as he silently urged the traffic light to hurry up and turn green. His eyes kept quickly alternating between the stubborn light and the steadily rising temperature gauge in front of him. A few days before, his car, an older Subaru Forester, had overheated on the way to work. One second everything had been fine, the next, the temperature gauge had shot into the red and not long after, his engine had simply stopped working. Luckily he’d been able to coast into a gas station parking lot and the engine had started again, once it had cooled down. Unfortunately it had taken over half an hour and for the first time since he’d begun working at his latest job, he’d had to call his manager and let her know he was going to be late.
He’d hoped that somehow it was just a one time fluke that wouldn’t happen again. The car had always been reliable for him ever since his aunt had given it to him, used, back in high school. However, ever since the first time it had overheated, the problem just seemed to be getting worse. Nate had managed to avoid missing any more time at work, but he’d begun to dread any time he’d have to slow down, or worse, come to a complete stop. He’d pray to the automotive gods to keep the engine cool enough that it would continue to get him to wherever he was going.
Nate knew that whatever the problem was, eventually it was going to kill his car, unless he took it into the dealer to get it fixed, but he also knew that there was no way he would be able to afford dealer prices. He’d been mulling over visiting an independent repair shop, but he had no idea which ones were good, and which ones would take advantage of him and end up charging him an arm and a leg without fixing the problem. Thankfully, in talking his problems over with some of his coworkers, one of them had recommended a reasonably priced mechanic they trusted, who was willing to work on all makes and models of cars.
The light finally turned green, and Nate gunned it, watching as the needle on the temperature gauge jumped even higher, before slowly receding as air began to move through the radiator. He seldom came to his part of town, near the airport, on the outskirts where the suburban sprawl petered out and what seemed like wild, dense forest, peppered by narrow, winding roads began. Following the directions of the GPS on his phone, he turned down one such shady lane and passed a few older homes, as well as a couple of dirt roads, before reaching his destination.
Just off the road was a U shaped parking lot, nearly obscured by long, broad-leaved grass. The pavement led up to a faded bluish, grey metal clad building with two gaping entrances large enough for a truck to enter, next to a smaller, normal sized door that led into a shorter section of the building. Surrounding the outside were a few cars in various states of disassembly and rust. Atop the front of the building, in faded red letters was the name, “Mac’s.”
Trepidatiously, Nate turned in and parked, hopefully between two of the faded lines painted on the parking lot’s blacktop. As he stepped out of his car, he was hit by a wave of summer heat and squinted in the intense sunlight. As his eyes normalized, his attention was drawn to some movement in one of the nearby open bay doors. In the dim interior, he could see that there was a white car lifted into the air atop a metal pillar, from underneath which, stepped a short rodent girl.
Even from a distance, it was easy to make out her large, vibrantly green eyes as they regarded Nate with idle curiosity while she stepped into the sunlight, pulling off a pair of well used, filthy gloves. Her short fur was a dark, burnt red, while the long braid that spilled out of the back of her backwards ball cap was a lighter shade of crimson. She was wearing a loose pair of navy blue coveralls, spotted with smudges and stains, some new, others looking quite old. The thin soles of her dingy, once white, converse shoes didn’t help her height much, if she and Nate were standing next to each other, she’d probably only come up to his shoulder, if that. Pulling a red cloth from her back pocket, she wiped her hands with it as she called out to Nate, “Can I help you with something?”
Nate assumed his professional smile and asked, “H-hi, are you Mac?”
The corner of her mouth twitched in a grimace. “Sarah. Sarah Mackenzie.”
“Oh,” Nate said, rubbing his sweaty palm on his jeans. “W-well, my name is Nate Andrews, and my car’s been having some issues lately, and I was hoping that you could take a look at it?”
Sarah’s eyes flicked over to Nate’s car as she slowly walked toward the passenger side of it. “What year is it?” She asked.
“’06 or 07, I think.”
Shoving the rag she was holding back into her pocket, Sarah hooked her thumbs on her front pockets, her gaze running over the car’s lines. “So what kind of problems has it been having?”
Feeling a tingle of shame over how little he knew about cars, Nate replied, “Well, It’s been a rock solid car for as long as I’ve had it, but a couple of weeks ago, it began to overheat anytime I’m stopped, or in slow traffic.”
Sarah’s verdant eyes cut back to Nate. “Is there a big white or blue cloud coming out of the exhaust when you start it, or when you accelerate?”
Nate bit his lip in thought before slowly replying, “Now that you mention it, yeah, I think there is.”
With a sage node, Sarah pronounced, “Sounds like a blown head gasket. It’s a pretty common problem for Subarus from around that era.”
“Oh,” Nate replied, with a tone that made it obvious he had no idea what a head gasket was. “I-is that expensive to fix?”
Crossing her arms under her modest bosom, Sarah sighed and frowned as she stared at the car in contemplation. Slowly she replied, “Hmm, off the top of my head, I’d say it’ll cost you between twelve and fifteen hundred.”
Nate let out a breath as if he’d been punched in the gut. There was no way he could afford that. He was already barely managing to keep his head above water. Between rent, student loans, utilities, insurance, and all his other expenses, he’d barely been managing to save a few dollars here and there, but nowhere near fifteen hundred dollars. Additionally, his landlord had just informed him that he was going to raise his rent when his lease was up in a couple of months, and Nate had been worrying over how to cover that cost, and now this … “Are you sure it’s the header gasket?” He pleaded with the petite mechanic. “You haven’t even looked at the engine ...”
With a small sigh, but an understanding nod, Sarah said, “Sure, pal, I can take a look and see if it’s maybe something else that’s obvious.” She strode purposefully to the front of the car and told him, “Go ahead and pop the hood.” Nate hurried back to the driver’s seat and fumbled a few seconds until he found the hood’s latch release. With the hood loose, he moved to stand near Sarah as she lifted and propped the hood open with practiced ease.
In the same motion, she leaned over the engine, tiptoeing to get a better view as she twisted back and forth to examine the engine from various angles. “Well, nothing’s jumping out at me,” she declared. “No obvious leaks, or anything like that. No torn or loose hoses. Your serpentine belt looks original, but that’s more of a replace when you can sort of thing. It wouldn’t be causing the problem you’re describing.” With one hand she reached back and pulled the red cloth out of her pocket, calling Nate’s attention to the tail sleeve on her jumpsuit, which appeared thicker, and more rigid than one would expect. With her other hand, Sarah pulled on a metal ring jutting out from the engine’s depths and pulled out a long, thin wire. “Yep, there’s your problem right there,” she said as she cradled the end of the wire with the red rag.
Nate looked at what she was presenting him, but had no idea what he was supposed to be seeing. It was just a grey, greasy mess in his eyes. “What am I looking at exactly?” Nate asked, meeting Sarah’s eyes. This close, they sparkled like cut emeralds.
“Well, the short answer is that you’re getting coolant into your oil, which is bad,” she said as she wiped the wire off with her rag and reinserted it into the engine from whence it came. She relaxed and stood flatfooted, and Nate found that she did indeed only reach the height of his chest. “The long answer is that your car uses oil to lubricate the moving parts of your engine while it circulates coolant to, well, cool it down. Coolant is a bad lubricant and oil is a bad coolant. Usually when you see them mix like this, it means you have an opening in your engine somewhere that shouldn’t be there. The most likely, and cheapest culprit in this case is a failed head gasket.”
Sighing, Nate leaned heavily on the frame of his car while Sarah folded her rag and tucked it into her back pocket. “I-is there anyway it could be fixed for less?”
With another sigh, Sarah sucked on her teeth, revealing her prominent front pair. “Well,” she said thoughtfully. “Really it’s the price for labor that gets you on a repair like this. A gasket kit will probably run you a few hundred dollars, but in order to replace the gasket, you literally have to take the engine apart. Then, in order to be safe, you need to have the heads machined to make sure that they haven’t warped due to the heat. If you did all the work yourself, other than taking the head to a machine shop, you could probably get away with it costing less than five hundred.”
Morosely, Nate stared at the dark engine bay. Sighing, he said, “I don’t have the first clue when it comes to things like this. Do you think it would be something that I can handle on my own?”
Sarah let out a wry, mirthless chuckle. “Yeah, nah. I can’t say I’d recommend going that route. Not unless you had another car you could use as a daily driver. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’d be great for more people to take an interest in the inner workings of combustion engines, but this is kind of a big job, especially if you’re the kind of person to have never even changed your own oil before.”
Nate chewed his cheeks as he nodded. Sadly he said, “Yeah, I get it.” He backed away as Sarah unpropped the hood and lit gravity take its course. The bang of the hood crashing closed reverberating through the afternoon silenced the cicadas for a moment.
Sarah thrust her hands into the pockets of her coveralls as she and Nate stood there staring at the innocuous Forester. She studied Nate’s profile out of the corner of her eye a few times before she hesitantly began, “Well, if you can’t swing the money for the whole job, do you think you could manage at least the four or five hundred for the parts?”
Mulling over his finances, Nate turned his head to look down at her. “You wouldn’t happen to have a layaway plan would you?”
Letting out a bark of laughter, Sarah smiled as she ran her eyes up and down Nate’s figure, studying him in more depth. “That depends, I suppose. What is it you do for a living exactly, Mr. … sorry, I’m horrible with names.” She said apologetically.
With a shrug to show he didn’t mind, Nate replied, “It’s Nate, and I work at a supermarket. Specifically in the deli section. I make meals there for people who come to a grocery store, but don’t want to cook, I guess. Things like sandwiches, casseroles, side dishes, that sort of thing.”
Sarah’s eyebrows rose. “You mean you’re a chef?”
Wanly, Nate smiled while shaking his head. “Nah, nothing as grandiose as that. I’m just a cook. I can make food, but it’s all pretty basic stuff.”
Rocking on her heels, Sarah’s hands came out of her pockets. One pulled off her baseball cap, revealing her fuzzy ears that had been folded against her head, while the other ran through her hair before settling on the back of her neck. Thoughtfully, to herself, she murmured, “A cook, huh?” She was silent for several seconds, her eyes unfocused as she mulled something over. Apparently coming to a decision, she pulled her hat back on and focused her attention back up at Nate. “Tell you what, how about a little quid pro quo? You pay for the parts, a little at a time if that’s the only way you can swing it, and I’ll work on the car for you, and in return, you can cook for me.”
Gobsmacked by the strange offer, Nate dumbly asked, “W-what, you mean, like, make you dinner?”
“Yeah!” Sarah said, with an excited bounce. Her smile grew as she processed the idea in real time. “You know how to cook, and I know how to fix cars, so why don’t we exchange what we’re good at? I’ll replace your head gasket, and you can cook me a grand’s worth of meals.” She paused for a moment and Nate could see the wheels turning in her head. “Or, maybe less than that. I mean, I can work on the car in my spare time, so I can charge a little less. Really, if you think about it, it’s a win win for both of us. Me especially since I’ve been getting tired of takeout.”
Still reeling from the proposal, Nate frowned. “So what, I just need to cook for you enough to make up for your labor?”
Sarah’s eyes gleamed and her cheeks swelled with excitement. “It makes sense, right? I mean, how much do you make an hour, like five bucks?”
With a small scoff, Nate crossed his arms and rested his hip on the Forester’s grill. “More like twelve.”
Nodding absently, Sarah said, “Okay, so say it takes two hours to cook a meal, that’s twenty four dollars. I’ll help pay for the ingredients, so let’s say twenty bucks per meal. If you come by and made one everyday, then that’s only fifty days; plenty of time for me to tear your engine apart and put it back together again.”
As Nate mulled it over, the deal did make logical sense to him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the non-traditional nature of the offer, but it would definitely be easier than him scrounging together that much cash on his own. As he continued to think the deal over, he jerked his thumb toward the car. “S-say we do go through with your idea. What am I supposed to do without a car for fifty days?”
With a languid turn of her head and a dismissive wave of her hand, Sarah said, “Oh that’s easy, I’ve got a loaner car you can borrow in the meantime.” She nodded toward the garage. “Come on, I’ll go get the keys and you can check out your station and make sure it has the right stove you need, or whatever.”
She set off, but Nate called out, “Hang on a second,” causing her to pause mid-step and turn back toward him. “I still haven’t agreed yet.”
“That’s true,” Sarah mused. “But do you really have any better options?” She held her hands out, wide open. “You’re free to go get a second opinion, but I don’t think you’ll find as good a deal at any of the other shops in town. You could try trading it in and getting a new car, but then you’ll have a new payment to go along with it.” Nate winced at the thought of another monthly debt. Sarah held her hand out to him. “Come on, how about it? You seem like a nice guy, who’s just a bit down on his luck. I want to help you, and for dollars a day, you too can help feed a poor starving squirrel. How can you say no?”
She was right. There was no way Nate was going to find a more favorable payment plan to fix his car. So, putting aside his hesitation, Nate eventually reached out and took Sarah’s hand in his. As he shook it, he said, “I guess I can’t. Looks like we’ve got a deal.” Her small hand felt soft and hot in his.
“Great!” Sarah exclaimed while she beamed up at him. After pumping Nate’s hand a couple of times, she spun on her heel and called over her shoulder, “Come on, I’ll show you the kitchen and grab those keys.”
Still feeling a bit uncertain, Nate drifted after her. “You’ve got a kitchen in here?” He asked as they stepped into the cool, darkened interior of Sarah’s garage. The walls of which were lined with various parts and tools. There were workbenches and tables scattered around, most covered with something mechanical in nature. There were even a couple of heavy duty looking computer monitors on top of wheeled carts, their plastic wrapped screens smudged from dirty fingerprints. Over their heads, a white sedan was suspended by a lift. The other bay was unoccupied, but the dark stains soaked into its concrete floor testified to its frequent use. Throughout the garage, there was the scent of something similar to lighter fluid, as well as something almost sickeningly sweet.
“Of course I do,” Sarah said while making a beeline to a door in a nearby wall of the garage. “I live here after all.” She opened the door and Nate followed her inside.
Immediately before them was a long corridor whose walls were covered with cork boards festooned with various pamphlets and papers tacked to them, along with aged posters advertising various brands of oil and tires. There were a few doors along the hall, two of which were marked as bathrooms. In the distance, Nate could see a dark room with stacks of tires, a counter, and a row of uncomfortable chairs, all bathed in the gentle glow of a drink vending machine. Ignoring all that, Sarah turned to their immediate right and led the way into what looked like a fluorescent lit break room. There was an almost bare vending machine on one wall. A row of cabinets ran the length of the other, tucked against which was a simple white refrigerator that was humming loudly. A stainless steel sink was sunk into the counter top near a four burner range and oven combination. In the center of the room was a metal rimmed vinyl covered table that was scratched and stained, surrounding which were several mismatched chairs. Passed the wall the refrigerator was leaning against, was an alcove with a metal door marked exit, next to which, Nate could see the beginning of a flight of stairs leading up.
“Well, this is it,” Sarah said as she spun around to face Nate. “It’s probably not the fanciest setup you’ve seen, but at least there’s a lot of space, right?”
“It looks nice,” Nate replied. “Clean. That’s good.” He nodded in satisfaction while still examining the nearby counter tops.
Sarah smiled beautifully, her hands on her hips as she said, “Well, feel free to look around and take stock of things. I’m already looking forward to what you’re going to make. I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, you want me to start today?” Nate asked, turning to look at Sarah in surprise.
With a shrug, she replied, “Why not? No time to start like the present. After today, just forty nine more meals to go, right?”
Nate nodded to himself. Her words did make sense. While he was distracted, Sarah took the opportunity to make her escape, but before she could dash up the stairs, Nate called out to her again, “Hang on, before you go, is there anything that you’re allergic to, or you don’t like eating?”
Pausing, one foot on the stair leading up, Sarah raised a finger to her chin and tilted her head in thought before replying, “No, I don’t think there’s anything I’m allergic to. As for things I don’t like … well, I don’t mind broccoli, but I don’t really like cauliflower. But then again, if you cover anything in enough cheese, I guess I could eat it.”
“All right, fair enough,” Nate said, pursing his lips. Sarah disappeared up the stairs while Nate drifted over to the cupboards and began opening them and rifling through the drawers. Amidst the drawer packed with menus for every delivery restaurant in the city, many of which had gone out of business long ago, he found a hodgepodge of flatware from several different sets, along with a few basic but serviceable cooking implements such as spatulas and wooden spoons. There were a few pristine sauce pans and a couple of moderately scratch non-stick frying pans. A deep, well used aluminum pot was the only larger container, and it sat alongside a few cookie sheets that were indelibly stained with the carbon of things incinerated long ago.
The water from the sink was clear and didn’t have any odd smells, and after a couple of clicks, each of the gas powered burners on the stove burst into a cheerful blaze. The oven’s light had burnt out, but it appeared otherwise intact. The microwave hanging over the stove however looked as if it had been used to heat a burrito until it sublimed. Inside the fridge, which was festooned with various magnets, including three bottle openers, and a small ca lender from 1998, Nate found a soggy pizza box from a nearby chain, a crusty quart container from a Chinese restaurant, half a bottle of ketchup, an empty bottle of mustard, and seven six packs of beet, all of different brands, and only with one of two bottles left in each. The freezer over the fridge held about three inches of packed ice, buried within which was a forlorn, frost covered box of popsicles. Other than the takeout in the fridge, and a salt and pepper shaker on the nearby table, it was all the food that Nate could find in the kitchen. He let out a breath. There wasn’t much to work with, but he’d dealt with worse.
Sarah’s light footsteps came crescendoing down the stairs and she spun around the corner of the kitchen, nearly barreling into Nate. “Whew,” she said putting a hand against Nate’s chest to keep from crashing into him. “It took me a minute because it’s been a while since we’ve loaned out the car, but I found the keys.”
Nate helped steady the small woman before stepping back to a respectable distance. “Good,” he replied. “Because if you’re wanting me to make you something to eat, I’m going to have to make a grocery run first.” Scrunching up his face in concern, he asked, “What have you been living on until now?”
“Oh you know,” Sarah said with a shrug, “Beer, crackers, pizza, beer, peanut butter. Lots of peanut butter. And whatever snacks I feel like when I visit the gas station down on the corner to pick up some beer.”
Nate’s eyebrows rose. “Wow, that sounds incredibly unhealthy,” he said, sounding faux impressed.
“Did you know that you can get half your daily dosage of vitamin C from a pack of starburst?” Sarah asked.
Nate’s cheeks puffed as he let out a long, slow exhale. Rubbing his eyes, he said, “Anyway, about that meal. Since I need to go pick up ingredients, do you have any requests?”
“Nah, you can just surprise me,” Sarah said with a smile. She bounced on her feet and rushed over to the metal door next to the stairs. “Anyway, let me show you the loaner so you can get started.” She pushed open the door and stepped back out into the bright sunlight.
Following her into the sunshine, Nate found himself in the yard behind the garage. The immediate area was covered in closely mown grass. Nearby were a pair of lawn chairs near an oil drum that was nearly full of crushed beer cans. The yard sloped down away from the garage, the grass growing longer the further from the building it was until it met a thin strip of forest at the bottom of the hill. Among the tall grass were the remnants of rusted out car chassis. On the other side of the woods was a chain link fence that marked the perimeter of the local airfield. Far away, across fields of grass and wide strips of pavement, Nate could see the terminal building surrounded by a fleet of tiny little vehicles and several white and silver airplanes.
“Over here,” Sarah called out to him, calling Nate’s attention to a corner of the garage where a few newer, seemingly intact cars were parked. In particular, she was pointing to a tiny two door car that seemed like it was from another era. It was low to the ground, very square, had two doors, and pop up headlights that were popped up, even though the car was off. It was painted teal, with green, sparkling flames painted across the hood and trailing from the front two wheel wells. Across the top of the windshield was a sticker saying, “Mac’s Garage Loaner Vehicle.”
“What is that?” Nate asked, unable to keep his disbelief from his voice.
“That,” Sarah said like she was presenting a new car on The Price is Right, “Is an eighty four Nissan Pulsar, lovingly maintained by my father, my forefathers, and their forefathers. A legacy of the Mackenzie clan. Do you know how to drive stick? It doesn’t matter. This thing’s gearbox is so forgiving that you can start in any gear and it won’t complain. Of course, it also doesn’t really matter what gear you end up in either because it’s never going to go much beyond fifty. But most importantly, it’s a running car that will get you from point A to point B without you having to worry whether you’re going to get stranded or not.”
Despite the florid color scheme, Nate did have to admit that it was at least superior to his current ride in some small way, if what Sarah was claiming was true. Still, it was a bit hard for him to believe that some tiny car he’d never heard of, which had been built long before he’d been born, was a reliable means of transport. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
“Of course I am,” Sarah said, lightly slapping the roof of the car. “This thing runs better than it did new. Just feed her some gas now and then and she’ll get you wherever you need to go. It might take her a little while, but she won’t let you down.” Faced with Sarah’s overwhelming confidence, Nate decided to take her at her word. Taking the keys that she was holding out to him, he unlocked the car and slid into the driver’s seat.
The interior of the car was a tan pleather, which was almost uncomfortably hot thanks to baking in the heat of the sun. The air inside was thick and hot, smelling uniquely like a care which hadn’t been occupied in quite some time. Sliding the key into its slot, he turned it and the engine immediately came to life without a hit of hesitation. Nate’s hand drifted toward the center console, but he only found the controls for an AM/FM radio and the heater there, no sign of anything like air conditioning. Turning to the door, he found it had a manual crank which turned smoothly in his hand while he rolled down the window.
“I’ll go ahead and pull your Subaru around,” Sarah said, leaning on the car’s roof to speak to Nate through the window.
“Sure, sounds good,” Nate replied. “I-I guess I’ll see you in a minute.”
“Drive safe,” Sarah said as she gave the car a final pat before stepping away.
Nate had learned how to drive a stick shift one afternoon many years ago, but his mother had quickly grown fed up with him attempting to burn out the clutch, so while he intellectually knew what to do when presented with three pedals and a knob next to his right hand, it was by no means a task he could perform without thinking. However, Sarah’s promise of it being an easy manual to live with proved to be true. It slipped into first gear without complaint, and even smoothly rolled forward without a hiccup when Nate let his foot off the clutch too early. Soon he’d navigated it around the side of the garage and back out onto the road.
It was a short trip to a nearby grocery store. Not the one he worked at. There was no way he could afford to shop there regularly. He spent several minutes wandering the long, wide aisles, picking up not only the ingredients necessary for the meal he was planning, but staples as well, such as butter, eggs, flour, rice, and various spices, to name a few. Though he ended up with enough bags to carry in a single trip, he found that they nearly filled the entire trunk of his tiny little car. On his way back to the garage, he turned on the radio, and spent some time trying to find a station that was bearable. It was the first time he’d listened to something other than a streaming app in years, and he didn’t remember their being so many ads back when he’d listened to the radio with his parents.
Pulling back into the garage’s parking lot, Nate found that the large doors leading into the garage’s bays were closed, and his Subaru had disappeared. Parking the car, Nate headed toward the smaller door leading into the office area, but found it locked. He knocked on it, and after a few minutes of no response, he knocked on it more loudly. He was just beginning to panic that he was the victim of some sort of elaborate car theft, when through the dim light inside, he spotted Sarah approaching.
She popped open the door and leaned out to hold it open for Nate. “Sorry about that,” she said breezily. “I forgot that I don’t get too many visitors. I usually just use the back door since it’s easier, so from now on if you want, just head around back and you can get in without having to knock.”
His hands full of plastic bags, Nate nodded as he stepped past her into the dark lobby. “G-got it.” He set off down the hallway to the kitchen while Sarah flipped the lock on the front door and padded after him.
After Nate had laid the bags down on the counter, and began to put things away, she poked through Nate’s haul inquisitively before announcing, “Well, I’m covered in grease and lots of other things that don’t taste that great, so I’m going to go get washed up. Don’t forget to let me know how much I owe you for groceries.”
“Will do,” Nate replied as he weighed a small bag of rice in his hand, contemplating where he should store it while listening to Sarah’s light footsteps traipsing upstairs. Soon afterwards, he could hear the sound of running water, but it quickly faded into the back of his mind as he concentrated on meal preparation.
He wasn’t feeling up to making anything complicated, so he’d settled on sauteed chicken with peppers and a side of roasted brussels sprouts sprinkled with balsamic vinegar. He’d purchased a cheep set of knives at the grocery store. Pulling one from the plastic packaging protecting it, he quickly diced a pair of chicken breasts. After seasoning them he added them to a lightly oiled pan and left them to cook over a medium heat. Using and different knife, and after he’d washed them, nate went through and sliced the brussels sprouts in half. Taking a long look at the cookie sheets available to him, Nate wrapped one in aluminum foil before arranging the tiny cabbages on it. He sprinkled them with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, as well as salt and black pepper. The oven wasn’t preheated, so he just threw it on low broil and kept the door open so he could keep an eye on them to prevent them from burning.
Using the same knife he’d used on the sprouts, Nate cut the peppers into strips and then continued to stir the chicken until it had lost its pinkness. Sliding the peppers into the same pan as the chicken, he added a dash of salt and crushed red pepper. He tended the chicken and peppers while the air filled with the scent of brussels sprouts roasting.
The chicken and peppers had cooked to perfection, so he’d removed them from heat, and was thinking of the best way to plate things when from overhead he heard what sounded like a jet engine take off. He hadn’t noticed when the water had stopped running exactly, but as a loud whirling roar of air spun up above him, Nate couldn’t help but look up at the ceiling in concern. The roar of wind lasted only for a minute or so before dying back down, and with a shrug, Nate removed the sprouts from the oven. He usually roasted them for longer, and without the broiler, so they weren’t as perfect as he could hope, the ones near the edges a bit too blackened, and the ones in the center a bit too undercooked, but they weren’t the most terrible thing he’d ever cooked.
He was in the midst of transferring them to a large serving bowl when Sarah reappeared. Gone was her coveralls, ballcap, and even braid. Instead she was wearing a white tee shirt, blue jeans, and wore her hair in loose waves trailing down her back, reaching nearly all the way to her tail, which, freed from its prison, appeared nearly as big as the rest of her.
Stunned by the sight, Nate paused what he was doing to exclaim, “Holy crap, where were you hiding that thing?”
Sarah glanced behind her to where Nate was looking at her tail. “Oh, I had it tucked away for work. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get used oil or brake filth out of fine hair like that.”
“You had it tucked away? How? It looks like your tail makes up half your body weight.”
Pulling her tail around in front of her, Sarah petted it a bit. “It’s mostly just hair and air,” She said, walking closer to Nate to show him. “So I can usually squeeze it down pretty tight. It’s a bit of a pain, but better than dealing with it getting in the way every time I have to crawl under a car.” Her attention turned to the pan Nate was holding. “Smells good, what are we having?”
Nate finished pouring the sprouts into the bowl as he answered, “I thought I’d keep it simple, chicken with peppers and roasted brussels sprouts.”
Sarah’s brow furled and her eyes narrowed. “Brussels sprouts? I’m not sure I’ve had those before, but they don’t sound too appetizing.”
With a roll of his eyes, Nate said, “You said you wanted to be surprised. Well, surprise.” Transferring the chicken and peppers to a different serving dish, Nate carried the food to the table, and then stood back and admired his work for a moment. “Well then, that’s dinner. I’ll go ahead and wash the dishes I used, then head out, I guess.”
“Wait,” Sarah said, looking at him in confusion. “Aren’t you going to eat with me?”
It was Nate’s turn to be confused. “Am I? Was that part of our agreement?”
Sarah laughed in exasperation. “Of course, you big doof. It’s no fun eating alone. Come on, grab a plate and sit down. If I have to suffer through whatever this is you’ve concocted, I’m not going down alone.”
Feeling a bit out of place, Nate did as she told him and retrieved plates and silverware for the both of them. Meanwhile, Sarah poked her head into the fridge and pulled out a beer before calling over her shoulder, “What do you want to drink? I’ve got lagers, pilsner, IPAs, ales, and a stout that’s been kicking around for a few years, but it’s probably still good.”
“A-a light beer would be good,” Nate said as he seated himself and began to plate the food.
Sarah retrieved another beer from the fridge. Holding both bottles in one hand, she expertly decapped them and sauntered over to the table, holding one of the smoldering bottles out to Nate. Accepting it, Nate took an experimental sip and found that it was palatable. In the meantime, Sarah had taken the seat across from Nate and had already begun to sample the food. She nodded in appreciation as she chewed the chicken before stabbing a sprout and staring at it with suspicion. Popping it into her mouth, it looked like she was concentrating hard as she slowly masticated it. Eventually her eyebrows rose in surprise and after swallowing her mouthful, she looked up at Nate. “Wow, that actually tastes pretty good.”
Nate didn’t try to hide his smirk. “Your welcome,” he said before suavely sipping his beer.
“Like wow, everything here is good,” Sarah enthused around the food she’d packed into her cheeks. She took several more bites before adding, “This is the best thing I’ve eaten since I don’t know when.” She eagerly filled her plate with seconds, and then thirds. Shortly there were only a few brussels sprouts left at the bottom of the bowl, and nothing left of the chicken and peppers. Sarah was leaning back in her chair, an air of satiation settled over her as she leaned the chair back on two legs, on of her hands resting on her slim waist. “Man, that hit the spot.” Looking up at Nate, she said with sincerity, “Thank you, Nate.”
It wasn’t often that Nate was complimented for his cooking. Most of his customers came in and just grabbed something he’d prepared hours ago and slipped it into their basket before tottering off. The ones that did order something from him in particular usually seemed to think he was an idiotic, unfeeling peon who had to be told how to perform the simplest of actions. Unused to Sarah’s sincere appreciation, Nate couldn’t help but blush under her gaze and awkwardly reply, “Y-you’re welcome.”
He tried to hide behind his beer, but found that the bottle was empty. Lacking any other diversions, he sprang from the table and began to rapidly pick up their plates. “W-well, anyway, I-I’d better get to doing the dishes.”
Sarah’s chair came down with a clunk. “I’ll help you with that,” she said as she stood and picked up the bowl the brussels sprouts had been served in. “You can wash, and I’ll dry.”
“O-okay,” Nate said, still unready to meet her eyes. Instead he turned to the sink where he’d piled the dishes he’d used while cooking, and plugged the drain before turning on the tap and shooting a healthy dose of dish washing soap into the stream of water. Sarah plunked the bowl she was carrying down on the counter near the sink before opening a nearby cabinet and retrieving a small wooden stool. She placed it near where Nate was standing and climbed up on it before pulling the drying rack toward her and picking up a nearby dish towel.
In companionable silence, Nate washed each dish in the hot soapy water, making sure to hit every nook and cranny, before handing them off to Sarah, who gave each one a thorough rub down before neatly stacking them in the drying rack. In no time at all, they were finished, and after opening the drain, while the water was gurgling away, Nate wiped his hands with a dish towel. “Well, I guess that’s that,” he said absently.
“Yep,” Sarah agreed, hoping off the stool. “Thank you again for dinner.”
“It was my pleasure. Besides, thank you for fixing my car.”
Sarah’s face twisted into a small grimace. “Oh yeah.” She smiled as she continued, “Don’t worry, it’s in good hands. I’ll have it running like new in no time.”
Nate’s grin matched hers. “Sounds good. I can’t wait.” He looked around before jerking his thumb vaguely in the direction of the front of the garage. “I-I guess I should get going, huh? Before it gets too dark.”
Her face falling, Sarah nodded. “Yeah, I guess you should.”
“Well then, I-I’ll see you tomorrow,” Nate said as he turned to leave.
“Wait,” Sarah said. “Before you go, we should exchange numbers. I mean, so we can text each other and work out a good time and stuff like that.”
Laughing at his own stupidity, Nate said, “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Sorry, it totally slipped my mind that we didn’t have a way to contact each other.”
“Ah no, it’s cool,” Sarah said, slipping her phone out of her jeans’ pocket. Nate retrieved his own phone, and in a matter of seconds, they’d added each other to their contacts.
Sarah walked him to the front door, and as he was leaving, Nate said to her, “I’ll text you tomorrow before coming over. Let me know if you have a craving for something in particular.”
“Will do,” Sarah said jauntily. “Drive safe, Nate.”
“Thanks, have a good night, Sarah,” Nate said, turning to wave at her as he was crossing the parking lot.
“You too,” Sarah called out after him.
Nate could see her watching him as he climbed into the loaner car and started it up. However, the setting sun’s rays obscured the glass door as he pulled out of the parking lot, so he wasn’t sure if she’d continued to stand there watching him until he disappeared from sight.
Finally finding a tolerable radio station, Nate enjoyed the early evening air as it swept in through the cars windows while he cruised through town on the way home. As he navigated the city streets toward his small single room apartment, his thoughts were full of a lively red squirrel and anticipation of the expressions she’d show him over the meals they had to come.