THOMAS

After kissing Ashland on Saturday, I couldn’t seem to get her off my mind. Hence the lame excuse of donating a box of my old paints and brushes to the youth center during my lunch break that Monday. I had been meaning to drop the stuff off for a while. It could have waited until Wednesday, but we would be replacing several parts of the engine that day and I wouldn’t have the chance to talk to her.

The front desk was empty but I was pleased to see Ashland walk out after I rang the bell. The cleavage revealed by her fitted V-neck shirt made me even happier to see her.

When she saw me, she tilted her head back and slumped her shoulders down. She accepted that she had to face the consequences of what she’d revealed Saturday night. There was nothing better than knowing exactly where I stood with an attractive woman, especially when it required very little work.

“I thought I wasn’t going to have to deal with this mortification until Wednesday.” She smiled at me with chagrin.

“I assure you, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied unconvincingly.

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Then how can I help you?”

“Is Maura here?”

“No, she and Sydney are at court today until about one.” She gazed steadily at me.

“Oh, well, Maura had said that you guys ran an art program here, so I have some stuff to donate. Mostly paints and brushes. I checked all the paints; they’re still usable.”

She leaned in and looked down into the box I’d placed on the counter, giving me an even better view of her cleavage. I managed to shift my stare before she caught me looking.

“Is all of this yours?”

I nodded.

“You don’t strike me as the artist type.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m donating it.”

“No, my mom’s an artist, and these are definitely brands of someone who’s serious about it.”

“What can I say? They were out of Tempera at the store.”

She didn’t laugh but continued to look at me.

“Well, thank you very much for the donation. I can let Maura know you stopped by.”

I stared back, contemplating what else I could say to keep the conversation going.

“So,” she started, “about Saturday…” She paused and laughed nervously. She was not used to being in the position of showing all her cards.

“Yes, about Saturday…” I mimicked but stopped, waiting to see what she would say.

“I feel like I should apologize for…” she searched for her words.

“Claiming that baseball is for pussies?” I filled in the blank. Her eyes widened.

“Oh, God,” she sighed, leaning in towards the desk. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Among other things,” I confirmed.

She took a deep breath. “Well, clearly, I need to make it up to you. Do you have time for me to buy you some coffee?”

“Sure.”

We stepped outside and began heading down the street. While we walked, I wasn’t sure how much teasing she would let me get away with so I kept quiet. At least I wasn’t the one who’d embarrassed myself.

“Do you have the day off?” she asked.

“No, just on my lunch break.”

“No coveralls?” she said, referring to the t-shirt and jeans I was wearing.

“Nah, I seem to get harassed when I wear them outside of work. I hear some people call me Man-chanic behind my back.”

Ashland looked over at me. I grinned.

“So, how long have you been a mechanic?” She coolly changed the subject.

“Uh,” I paused, considering how to answer the question, “my dad started officially training me when I was fifteen, so if you go by that, twelve years...give or take a few years when I was living in New York.”

I knew I only mentioned New York because she seemed like the type that might be impressed by it.

“Oh, did you go to school there?”

“No, I went here for school. I went to New York after I graduated because…” I trailed off. Talking about it now, I felt so removed from my past reasoning as a twenty-two-year-old.

“Because it’s New York,” she said with understanding.

“You ever been?”

“No, but I’d like to someday.”

I held the door for her when we got to the coffee shop. She ordered and brought me my cup, and I followed her lead when she sat down at a table. After a few moments, I decided to make my move.

“So, Ashland the intern, what do you do when you’re not kissing volunteers you run into at bars?”

“Not really much. Grad school has taken up all of my time lately.”

“And I thought you were going to regale me with tales of winning beer pong tournaments and expert strategy for dominating at quarters,” I joked.

“No,” she laughed. “It’s mostly been reading and writing papers when I’m not at the youth center or in class.”

I looked at her with doubt.

“Saturday was actually the first time I’d gone out with my friends in over two months,” she said and took a sip. She looked away, finally releasing me from her intense eye contact. Normally the amount of eye contact she made would make me nervous, but she was so attractive I found it appealing.

“It’s a shame you’re so busy. I was going to take you out,” I said confidently. I sensed that was pretty much the only way to ask a woman like her out, at least when she wasn’t drunk.

“Hmm,” she smiled coyly. “Well, I’ll have to think about it.”

I nodded, unaffected by her pseudo-playing-hard-to-get.

“We should head back,” she announced, glancing at the time. I grabbed my coffee and followed her out.

“So, if you were to take me out, where would we go? What would we do?” she asked while we crossed the street and made our way back to the center.

“Hmm,” I pondered aloud. “Probably Thai food. You look like the Thai food type. And I would spend the majority of the time explaining the rules of baseball in a drawn out, condescending manner. I’d say we could go to a bar, but you seem to get a little handsy when you drink.”

“And that’s a problem for you?” she raised her brow, amused.

“Well, yeah,” I said in an obvious tone. “It can be incredibly distracting when you’re trying to explain what a ground-rule double is.”

“So, Thomas the Man-chanic, I’m thinking if we’re going to go out, I’m going to have to decide what we’re doing, because you’ve already shown inferior judgment when it comes to sports.”

I followed her up the steps to the front door. I had seen Maura’s car in the parking lot and decided I would say hello to her before heading back to work.

“You’re not the Thai food type?” I clarified, reaching above Ashland to hold the door for her as she opened it. She turned around. Her face was close and I thought she was going to kiss me again. She examined my face, considering what she wanted.

“Sushi,” she announced definitively. She held my gaze, evaluating my response. I hated sushi, but there were some things I was willing to stomach when it came to good-looking women...and trying to sleep with them.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“Wednesday?”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay then. I’m glad we figured that out.”

She turned and sauntered into the building. I was about to follow her when I heard someone calling my name. Justin was standing at the bottom of the steps. He looked timid after getting my attention.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” I greeted, walking down the steps towards him.

It seemed like the best thing to do was pretend like the last time I saw him he hadn’t looked like he was going to kill somebody. Justin looked down at his feet and took a breath before looking back up at me.

“I just wanted to apologize for last week.”

He looked like he wanted to say more so I stayed where I was. He sighed again and looked slightly past me.

“I...um, was kind of going through some stuff...my mom got involved in drugs again and she threw me out...and there was some stuff that went on with Eric that had to do with the drugs my mom’s boyfriend was dealing.”

I nodded. The weight of his words registered as I realized he was only seventeen.

I didn’t know how to respond and every possibility sounded awkward in my head. Should I tell him I understood when I had no life experience that would allow me to really understand? I stuck to nodding.

“I know that’s no excuse for acting how I did...and I wanted to let you know that I hope I can come back to class.”

“Sure...sure,” I agreed, but realized this might be outside of my jurisdiction. “Did you talk it over with Maura or Sydney?”

“Yeah, we talked about it today on the way to court. Maura said she would meet with me and write up a contract before Wednesday, and if you were okay with it, I could come back.”

He looked at me hopefully.

“Well, um, thank you for letting me know. I’m sorry that you’re having to go through all that stuff, man.”

Justin nodded.

“I was about to check in with Maura. I’ll be sure to tell her we talked. So, I’ll see you Wednesday then?” I reached out and shook his hand. That seemed like the best way to conclude the conversation.

“Thanks, man.” He sounded relieved.

He gripped the straps of his backpack and walked away. I suddenly felt overwhelmed with thoughts about Justin and his life that had never crossed my mind before. How many times had he been separated from his mom because of drugs or something else? Did he have any other family? Would he ever graduate? The list of questions continued as I walked into the center to find Maura, convinced she was the only person who would make me feel better about all these new questions.

I found her standing by her desk scrolling through her phone. She was looking very professional in dress pants and a blue short sleeved blouse with her hair up in a bun. I looked like a teenager compared to her. I almost felt like one too, seeking out her guidance. I knocked quietly on the open door.

“Hey.” She put her phone down. “Ashland said you wanted to donate all this stuff,” she gestured to the box of paints and brushes on her desk. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. It was just sitting in a closet at my mom’s house.”

“But what if you decide you want to paint again? I mean, this all probably cost a lot.”

It registered just how much money I had wasted anytime I had heard of a different paint or brush that was supposedly better for a different technique – meanwhile, there were people like Justin getting thrown out of their houses by their own mothers.

“Maura, it’s fine. There’s no reason for me to have all that anymore. There never really was. I kept a few things.”

“Okay, well, we appreciate it.” She looked at me. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” I looked away, feeling stupid that the nature of Justin’s reality – and the reality of pretty much all the kids she worked with – was just now hitting me. “I ran into Justin outside.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, he apologized for last Wednesday and said he wanted to come back.” I finally made eye contact with her and she knew he had filled me in on the reason for his behavior. She reached out and touched my arm gently, moving past me to close the door.

“What did he share with you?” she asked, I assumed to keep from telling me more than I was supposed to know. The possibility of there being even more shitty information made me feel even more overwhelmed.

“Just that his mom was on drugs – again. And threw him out and that she was dating a drug dealer that Eric supposedly did something to. But that it was no excuse for how he acted and he was hoping I would let him come back to the garage.”

“Kind of sucks when you find out some of the stuff that happens to these kids outside of here.” She looked at me understandingly, letting me know that my reaction was normal, even though stories like his were probably commonplace to her.

“I think of all the petty shit I was worried about or pissed off about when I was seventeen. My biggest concern was that I didn’t want to work at my dad’s shop on the weekends. Because why? I wanted to go paint fucking sunsets on the Sound. And some other kid’s getting kicked out of his home by his own mother because she prefers getting high to having her own son around.” The contrast left me depressed. “God, I am such an asshole,” I declared, shaking my head.

Maura shrugged. “And when I was seventeen, I was devastated that my parents wouldn’t send me on a class trip to Rome. Teenagers are incredibly self-centered and dramatic, even the at-risk ones,” she said matter-of-factly. “Our perspective is based on our environment and what we’re exposed to. I wouldn’t be too hard on teenage Thomas. He didn’t know he was an asshole,” she kidded, trying to lighten the mood.

“That doesn’t change the shitty situation that kid is in, through no fault of his own,” I countered, surprised at how frustrated I sounded.

“You’re right, it doesn’t. But sitting around and reflecting about how shitty his life is doesn’t really help either. I mean, it’s good to appreciate that things don’t come as easily for these kids, but you have to trust in their resiliency. Otherwise it just reinforces the message that things are hopeless and there’s no reason to try.”

I looked at her, seeking something more comforting. She read my expression.

“That’s why it’s great that we have a vocational program that’s training Justin and others to have an employable skill, so hopefully they’ll be in a better situation someday. Even if we could only find an asshole like you to teach it.”

She looked at me, waiting for me to be amused. I wasn’t offended, but I couldn’t seem to smile.

“I’m sorry it’s not like working on a car. There’s no clear answer how to fix it.”

“Well,” I sighed, “speaking of fixing cars, I should probably get back to work.”

I paused, wondering if she was going to hug me. After all the time I had spent relentlessly teasing her about her sensitivity, I longed for it in that moment. I was too proud to admit it though. I already felt like an idiot for not recognizing the severity of the lives of the kids I had been working with; no need to pathetically ask for a hug on top of it.

“Oh!” Maura exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. A grin spread across her face.

“What?” A smile finally appeared on my face when I looked at her.

“I have your prize!” she explained, opening a drawer.

Maura pulled out a thin eight by ten canvas and handed it to me. It was a paint-by-number picture of three unicorns by a waterfall. I was speechless.

“I wanted to give you one of my old latch-n-hooks, but apparently our garage flooded two years ago and all the yarn got moldy, so they had to be thrown out. You’re lucky my mom stored all of my best work in my old room.”

“Yes, lucky,” I agreed sarcastically. “So, this is what you consider a sexy prize?” I laughed. After how embarrassed she’d been about the text, I was surprised she had even followed through on giving me something.

“Um, yeah. I mean, what’s sexier than unicorns?” she said as if it were obvious.

I laughed and then impulsively pulled her in for a hug under the guise of thanking her.

“Thank you,” I said, making sure not to hold on for too long. She backed away. She knew I was thanking her more for her counsel than anything.

“You’re welcome,” she said quietly, and then crossed her arms. “So, I will see you Wednesday then.”

I nodded and opened the door.

“Have a good day.” I looked at her one last time before leaving. My instinct had been right. She had made me feel better.

***

I had been so focused on working in the garage with the group on Wednesday that I hadn’t thought that much about going out with Ashland afterwards. The fact that we were having sushi could have contributed to it, but it was also that the work we were doing on the engine was fairly advanced. After Monday, I had a newfound perspective on the value of the training I was providing. I was glad that Justin was back, but I had to accept that I would probably never see Eric again and wouldn’t ever know why.

Ashland quietly walked into the garage when we were wrapping up for the evening. She joined Sydney on the counter, making sure to lock eyes with me. I was careful not to stare back for too long.

“Is this thing ever going to run again?” Juan asked, exasperated.

“We’ll replace the radiator hose next week and then try it out,” I shared my plan.

“Then we can drive it?”

“You got a permit, Juan?” Sydney asked, shutting down Juan’s excitement. Judging by his expression, he didn’t. “I suggest you work on that with your case manager before you break any laws.”

“You’re my case manager,” he threw back at her.

“Well then I guess we have something to talk about next time we meet.” She hopped down from the counter. “Make sure you guys put everything back.”

I closed the hood of the car and answered a few lingering questions before dismissing everyone. The kids dispersed and Sydney stepped outside the garage, taking a moment to talk with River. Ashland continued to sit on the counter while I took inventory of the tools.

“Will you be wearing that out tonight?” she asked about my coveralls, still eyeing me. I walked over to the counter, locking up the tool cabinet next to it, and rested my hand on the counter next to her.

“You seem overly interested in my coveralls.”

“What can I say? The blue-collar thing does it for me.” She touched the name patch on my chest.

A smile slowly stretched across her face as she looked back into my eyes. Once again, I thought she was going to kiss me. There were still teenagers hanging out within eye shot of us, so I backed away.

“Well, unfortunately for you I brought a change of clothes.” I started to walk out of the garage. She hopped down and followed me out. “I would look pretty ridiculous eating sushi while wearing this.” I pulled the garage door down and locked it.

“Well, if I wasn’t so hungry, I’d suggest we skip the sushi and go straight to the end of the night.”

I let out a laugh, unable to think of a clever response. “I’m going to go change. I’ll meet you by my truck?”

She nodded and headed toward the parking lot.

I went into the center and cleaned myself up. After changing into my jeans and a short sleeve polo, I stepped out of the bathroom and ran into Sydney in the hallway.

“Going out with Ashland tonight?”

“Yeah, we’re going to go get a bite to eat.”

She looked like she had something else she wanted to say so I waited.

“Look, Thomas, it’s not really my philosophy to get into people’s business…” she paused, “but, I have to remind you of the official program policy that certain types of relationships between staff and volunteers aren’t allowed. But you guys are just getting food together, right?” She hinted at my need to agree with her.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.”

Technically, it wasn’t really a lie at that point, but after Ashland’s comment by the garage, I would most likely sleep with her.

“Ashland’s about four weeks away from finishing her internship here. I really don’t want to have to dismiss all the work she’s done this year should you guys start hanging out. So just make sure if and when you guys hang out, you do it off site.”

I put together that when Sydney said ‘hanging out’ she meant ‘sex or other physical contact.’

“She strikes me as the type who might get the idea that it would be exciting to hang out here, and I don’t want to deal with that shit. Mostly because of the paperwork involved.”

“Just so we’re clear, you have a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy when it comes to me hanging out with Ashland?”

“I know, the irony is not lost on me,” she admitted with a sigh. “All right then, good talk.” She patted me on the arm and walked back to her office.

They would probably have me stop volunteering if a sexual relationship with Ashland became public knowledge. From the little I knew about Ashland, she would be anything but discrete if we slept together. Keeping it a secret seemed improbable. The kids’ training would come to an end. All of their hard work wouldn’t matter because of my inability to keep it in my pants. It was too big of a risk for what was at stake. So that settled it. I wasn’t getting laid tonight.

It seemed best to wait and see what happened after dinner before breaking the news to Ashland. Despite her consistent flirting, I figured it would be presumptuous to announce that I was going to hold out on her before she had officially offered to go there. I mean, who starts off a date that way? Probably Maura. Okay, so what normal person starts off a date that way?

Going out with a woman when I wasn’t completely consumed with the question of whether I was going to close the deal really took the pressure off. Putting all my effort into trying to impress a woman to the point of taking her clothes off could get exhausting. Luckily Ashland was an interesting person, so focusing on getting to know her better didn’t seem like a chore.

She grew up in a commune in Portland with two hippy parents; her mother was an artist and her father was a writer. She was named after the town of Ashland in Oregon, where she was conceived during the Shakespeare Festival. It amused me that she knew this about herself and shared it in such a casual manner. I, on the other hand, had absolutely no desire to ever know where and when I, or either of my siblings, were conceived.

Her undergraduate degree was in Psychology from Evergreen College. Her alma mater wasn’t surprising after hearing about her bohemian upbringing. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do after graduating with her Masters in Social Work, but wasn’t stressed about it because she had another year of school to figure it out. I kept asking question after question about her, until she pointed out that we had been done eating for over an hour and were still at the restaurant.

She said she needed to get home because she had an early class the next day. Maybe her previous allusions to fooling around were all bravado. I wouldn’t have to make any sort of announcement about how I couldn’t sleep with her because it was against the rules. Good, I had worried about how lame I was going to sound anyway. We pulled up to her apartment building and I started to say goodnight.

 “Well, you know,” Ashland said while unbuckling her seatbelt, “the night doesn’t have to end.” She slid over next to me.

“I thought you had an early class?” My lips were inches from hers.

“I just wanted to get you out of the restaurant and back to my place,” she admitted before pressing her lips against mine.

I kissed her back. She unbuckled my seatbelt and then started to kiss my neck, moving up to my ear.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this,” she whispered. “And usually I picture us in this truck.”

It was quite a revelation to know that Ashland had gone beyond checking me out to actually fantasizing about me. I pulled her head back so I could reclaim her mouth, my big speech about having to delay sex with her no longer at the forefront of my mind.

“I’d rather finish this upstairs tonight. We can save the truck for another time,” she said in between kisses.

Her interjection made me pause long enough to remember what I was supposed to be doing – or rather, not doing. I backed away. Damn it. Why did I have to start being responsible now?

“What?” She stared at me, looking confused.

“We can’t do this,” I announced.

“What? Why? Shit, do you have a girlfriend?” she jumped to the most obvious conclusion.

“No,” I shook my head and turned back to the steering wheel, trying to avoid looking at her in order to stick to my plan. “It’s the youth center. They have a policy that staff and volunteers can’t have inappropriate relationships.”

“What’s inappropriate about two consenting adults having sex?” she asked, mirroring my usual sentiment.

“If anyone found out, you could lose credit for your internship. I could be fired from volunteering. It would end the voc-ed program, at least for a while,” I went over the consequences.

“But who says anyone has to find out?” She started to move back in.

“I really care about the voc-ed program,” I managed to get out before she started kissing me again. “I don’t want to do anything that would screw it up for those kids.”

Ashland sighed heavily and rested back against the seat, crossing her arms.

“Leave it to a Catholic organization to put stupid stipulations on people’s sex lives.”

We sat in silence for a moment. I reached out and grabbed her hand.

“It’s just until your internship ends.”

“Ugh, that’s like four weeks.” Her annoyance was clear.

“I understand if you don’t want to wait it out, but I don’t mind just hanging out for the next month.” I was being honest.

“You realize this shit about putting the kids first and wanting to date without getting laid for the next month only makes you more attractive?”

“What can I say? I’m a catch.”

Ashland let out a whimper of frustration and sat up straight.

“Well, I guess I have no choice but to wait. It’s those damn coveralls.” She turned back to me after she got out of the truck. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Good night, Ashland.” I didn’t walk her to her door. My virtue would only go so far.