CHAPTER SIX
KEIR STEERED the car around the block and listened out the open window for the mysterious sound his latest client insisted came with each ride. A house party filled the air with noise while the tantalizing smell of charbroiled meat called his empty belly.
A line of cars had made parking on the street a ridiculous minute’s walk, but the partyers milling around on the road turned to admire the ride he commanded. He landed back in the driveway, climbed out, and shook his head at the expectant middle-aged man who approached.
The beauty Cutlas had seen better days, but it was suped up. The tires raised the frame enough that it felt like he drove a small SUV, a blessing in disguise for Keir, but not too ostentatious that a man his client’s age would look ridiculous behind the wheel. Since the man had bought it for his son and borrowed it whenever his wife took his van, Keir became convinced the problem was some button he pushed unawares.
“It’s there, but Cam doesn’t hear it.”
“Why don’t you take me out and we can listen together, Mr. Peirce.”
The older man went to fetch his jacket, and came back stuffing cigarettes into his pocket and a wallet into the glove compartment. “I work fifteen minutes from here. We’ll take that route, then you’ll see.”
The drive was uneventful for the most part. On the way home, when Mr. Peirce lit a cigarette, is when the party started. Mr. Peirce eased down a window while they screamed along the highway. Then, all the windows went down to suck in the fresh air. The stiff breeze whipping through the interior, huddled in the backseat.
Keir peered at his client, then the back seat.
Mr. Peirce slammed a hand on the steering wheel. “There! Hear it? Once you reach a certain speed, something shimmies in the undercarriage or engine or somewhere. The alignment seems fine.”
Peirce’s wide eyes begged him to admit he heard the incessant thump-thump-thump-thump impossible to pinpoint in the cavernous interior. Keir scratched his forehead. He’d seen worse. Usually the solution loomed so plain he’d become immune to laughing.
“You always have a smoke, Mr. Peirce?”
“Dang straight. Can’t smoke in my own house anymore. Cam’s not gonna to tell his mother. He’s twenty-one. Can’t stop him from it if I tried.” He gestured to the half full ashtray.
Itched with amusement, Keir nodded. “I think I can help you out.” He leaned far into the back to undo the fastened seatbelt. The thuds stopped.
Mr. Peirce’s eyes flashed to the rearview. “Hey!”
“All in a day’s work.” He grinned, settling into his seat.
They looked at each other, Keir with hope, Mr. Peirce with a frown, and broke out in laughter.
“Blame it on aerodynamics, but the wind in the space plays the angle of the buckled shoulder strap just right.” Keir inspected it from the front seat. “He had those remodeled?”
“When we bought the car.”
“Nice, it’s just that the wind bounces the sound around in this old car.”
“Here I thought it had to do with a part gettin’ too much exercise.” Mr. Peirce laughed himself to choking. “How’m I gonna explain the problem and solution to my wife?”
They’d arrived at the Near North Side residence, and Keir smiled as he climbed out. “Sir, some things for you I can’t fix.”
The older man chuckled even though his face turned beet red with embarrassment. Tilting his head, he smiled and bobbed it to the music of the house party. After a moment, he pulled an envelope from his jacket’s breast pocket. “Cam’s cousin said you were good. Sorry I dragged you out here for nothing.”
Keir knew what the envelope held, and also that it felt a little thick when he received it. He expected to be paid for his time, but unless the envelope came with ones and fives, it didn’t feel right. He didn’t pull in his hand.
“I don’t feel it’s right to charge you for something you would have found eventually. I can’t take all of this. Go on inside and change it, I’ll wait here.” If the man decided not to come back; oh well.
“Don’t worry, I’ll use you again. Eee-yep.” Peirce turned toward his house, the envelope still outstretched to him. “And you better expect I’ll haggle the price then.”
Smiling at the man’s back, Keir flipped the hood of his black sweatshirt over his knit cap and jogged the windy two blocks to his truck. Things were looking up. Now he had the rest of the day to chill. He slid behind the driver’s seat, pushed back his hood, and fired up the cold engine. When he stopped at a gas station to fill his depleted tank, he looked inside the envelope.
His eyebrows rose as he lifted both hands away like the package contained a bomb. Whoa. If Peirce had this much money to give away, why’d he not go to a garage? Beautiful classic as it was, someone would take good care of it.
Unsure, Keir had a mind to go back and leave a chunk of the payment in the mailbox, but Mr. Peirce had known what he was doing. He’d thought about it before he produced the envelope. He could have pretended he’d left it inside and gone to skim some out. Well, hallelujah for a payment, tip, bonus, and another satisfied regular customer.
Keir bought gas, gum, and a carwash token with a three month lifespan. He’d treat Haylan and little Neely to takeout tonight. Might as well make it a junk food day. He scanned the area. DRU-Med was just around the corner. If he remembered right, the garage he pointed Myah to wasn’t far away either. If it didn’t appear too stalker-ish, he’d swing by and enquire if she’d been in and find out the real problem with her car.
His stomach growled like an animal when he hopped into the truck’s cab. “All right. Food first.”
He pulled up to a busy fast-food restaurant, and queued in the drive-thru’ as he transferred some money from the envelope to his wallet. He’d spend extra to buy some fresh flowers and take Neely to see her mother if his brother permitted. It was only after two, they could do it before dark.
Inching forward, the car in front paused to let pedestrians pass. A voice garbled in his ear while he watched the straggling group hustle by. One person in particular caught his attention. Keir smiled at Myah’s wide grin when a man held the door open for her as she hurried to the entrance.
“Hello,” sang a voice. A horn behind him honked, somebody yelled to hurry up, and another asked if the moron had wound down his window. “May I take your order, please.”
He rushed through a selection. Impatient, drove to the first window and tried to get a glimpse inside. Second window. Same chaotic wall of bodies, but no sign of Myah. Stowing his drink and grabbing the food bag with the other hand, he lurched forward, then slammed the brakes and his heart when a family dashed by. He raised a hand in apology but took a moment to compose his pulse and store the food. Carefully, he pulled out and kept his eyes open for travelers and a place to park.
A minute later, he walked through the door, scratching at the zipper tab of his hoodie, and nibbled his lip at his unbelievable nerve. He didn’t want to intrude on her day off.
They locked eyes like they were the only two in the room, her eyebrows lifted, face dappled with wonder. This did seem stalker-ish. So far he’d ticked her off three times in as many days, and this might make four.
Too late to back out, he approached, hands secured in his back pockets, too mindful of his rapid breaths.
Myah looked at the two customers behind her, then stepped out to stand as last in line with a small boy in tow. “I can’t believe I bumped into you. How’s the weekend so far?”
He parked his eyes on that smile. “Gets better and better.” He didn’t lie.
Her hand tightened around the purse strap over her shoulder as she glanced at people passing by. He used the second to take in her appearance. She looked fabulous in that exercise outfit and plain sneakers, her ponytail hung low, her face makeup-free and fresh. A light blemish, smaller than a dime, sat under the corner of her left eye. A birthmark. He’d never noticed it before. Then again, he’d never stared at her like a mute idiot in broad daylight.
“I was in the drive-thru and saw you come in.”
“Oh, you live around here?”
“Uh. Came to see someone.” His eyes drifted to the vehicles lined up outside. “I take it you got your car checked. All fixed?”
“As good as twelve years old can be, and I still have a kidney.” She teased him with a know-it-all smirk before it faded. “Thanks for your note. I expected to see you yesterday, I guess things got pretty hectic downstairs.”
Yesterday? “I don’t work Fridays. I’m Sunday to Thursday. Off Friday and Saturday. I should have said someth—”
“No, I didn’t—it’s—never mind. You don’t owe me explanations. It sounded intrusive. I just wondered where you were. Not that I’d want to pry into your business or anything, or I’d been worried. I’m just…”
The rapid stream of words died. Her shoulders lifted. She looked around and bit the corner of her lip. Somehow someone else got in line ahead of her. She moved up. Keir’s mind returned to the fact that she’d wondered about him, had expected to see him. He felt like a heel that he’d disappointed her.
Silence fell between them in the loud restaurant. She moved ahead again, though still faced backward to talk to him. He dropped his eyes to the curious face of the kid.
This must be the famous son. Dressed in runners, tiny khakis, sweater and jean jacket, he stood little over two feet tall with a round face. Sparkling dark brown eyes were shaped like his mother’s light ones. Keir fleeted a glance to Myah’s tentative face. The kid was as cute as she was attractive, and both held expressions like he was about to do something awful.
He squatted before the little boy, leaning on his forearms to drop his hands between his V’d legs like an NBL catcher. “Hi.”
“Dylan, this is Keir.”
“Kia!” An arm shot up. Keir stared down a tiny finger between his eyes like the barrel of an unfocused gun.
Myah levered the arm down. She grimaced. “It’s not polite to point, remember? His name’s Key-r.”
“Kia.”
Chuckling, Keir licked his lips. Enough torturing the kid. He held out his palm. Dylan slapped his give-me-five gesture, and he chuckled again. “Hi, Dylan. How ’bout you call me Key?”
“Key!”
“Yeah, you got it.” He gave a playful tug on a lapel of the mini jean jacket, and he supposed Dylan wanted to return it, for he swatted the air and ended up slapping his arm.
Myah gasped. “Dylan, no.”
“It’s all right.” He glanced up, then back to the kid who chewed on an index finger. Dylan really did get it. “It’s a guy thing. Male bonding and all. Right, big guy?”
Dylan seemed to process his words. Keir crooked his finger and the baby obliged, letting go of Myah’s hand to take a tentative step in between his knees. The small face frowned in studious observation of his skin, his eyes, and hair. At least that’s what Keir believed as he lifted him up. He didn’t know how many white folk the two-year-old had come in close contact with in his short life. Staring seemed appropriate.
Mapping session over, Dylan twisted around to look at his mother. He turned back with a big grin.
Too used to Neely’s shyness around strangers, the innocent, sunny face heightened Keir’s hopes for her inner extrovert.
“Key,” Dylan shouted.
“Key.”
The small fists pushed against his chest and Dylan wriggled in a plea to get down. “Mmh play, Mommy.” Once on the floor, Dylan locked eyes with him and pointed in the direction of the playroom like it was expected he follow. “Come,” he ordered like the chief of the tribe.
Myah’s light laugh brought his attention to her soft, unguarded face. “He always gets to play before he eats.” Her head tilted. “It’s his play day.”
Play day? He looked around. “Don’t they usually come with other kids to play with?” He must have said something wrong because she looked befuddled.
“Once in a while there are other mothers I go out with, but every so often it’s hard to collaborate our schedules. It’s just Dyl and me today. He’s been a good boy stuck with me all morning in the garage. I thought he’d enjoy the Jumbo Room.” She lunged forward, catching the little rascal in full flight toward the colorful temptation. “Can’t say some things too loud,” she whispered.
She leaned forward and mouthed, Jumbo Room. Keir cracked a smile. Then a voice cut between them with, “Can I help the next person in line?”
Myah waved goodbye and turned. She walked to the counter with a straining Dylan dangling off her thigh. The boy spread himself out against the lower wall, then wrapped around her leg, then played hide-behind-Mummy’s-leg with no one in particular.
Not distracted from her task, Myah placed their orders while being swayed back and forth, jolted, and not to mention receiving one ripe squeeze from the spider wrapped on her knee.
Other children carried on in the same cantankerous manner. Keir didn’t know how parents did it. Neely had always been so subdued. She could do with some drawing out, some friends her own age outside of her cousins. Maybe a dose of Dylan.
Keir studied Myah as she dug through her bag, then his feet moved forward with no thought of what he’d do.
He stepped up behind, and reached round with one hand to still hers while the other tugged his wallet from his back pocket. She elbowed him in the gut in a startled turn to face him, then looked up in surprise and horror at the hard jab. She appeared so anxious he couldn’t stop his shy smile.
“I got it,” he told her.
“No, no.”
But he pulled out a bill and handed it to the cashier. “No problem.”
Suddenly he swayed side to side, received a good jostle, and seriously prayed his loose jeans wouldn’t end up in a pool around his ankles as the spider latched onto his legs with the idea to do acrobatics. In a discrete move, he grabbed the top of his beltless pants and waited for his change. When he saw the tray slap onto the counter, he realized they’d be eating in.
Myah bent over in a wrestled attempt to detangle Dylan from behind his legs. In the tugs and protests going on around his lower half, he let himself be distracted as he tried to angle a peek at the cute birthmark.
“Need any help?” He hadn’t expected his voice to come out so…intimately inviting…in the noisy fiasco. Myah’s unnatural, instant pause meant she’d detected it. He tried to fix his blunder, even as he considered touching the soft curve of her cheek. “Find you a table, I mean?”
Not meeting his gaze, she straightened, eyes lowered. Why, Miss Myah, is that another blush?
“Uh.” She looked around. “Sure. Kind of crowded though.”
“I’ll get one.”
Her mouth moved before actual words came out. “You’re staying?”
“If you—if you—you know, don’t mind. If you want. I’ll bring my food in. Sit with you. For a while.” He finally breathed.
That bare smile came back. And, man, he hoped he wasn’t sporting a blush of his own. She nodded. “I’d like that.”
“Yeah?” Cool. He reached down, clasped his fingers around Dylan’s toothpick biceps and lifted the three-pound weight to meet him eye to eye. “What do you say I take this little monster with me?”
“Whir go?” demanded Dylan.
Rapid-fire taps hit his arm. Myah pushed his shoulder. “Table. Go. Table. Go!” Wiggly fingers pointed the way.
Keir searched the crowded seats, saw nothing, but an unrelenting nudge between his shoulder blades shoved him forward. Too late he noticed it as the seats were grabbed up. Moving through the throng and around the left bend, he zeroed in on another prize deeper in the dining area.
He still held Dylan by his arms, swinging and swaying his way over to the vacant seats. The tiny guy laughed all the way, apparently he enjoyed being manhandled and tipped at odd angles. Although he screamed no, Dylan choked on his giggles.
“All right.” Keir put him on his behind in the round chair. “You sit right there ‘til your mommy comes.”
Had he just used the word mommy out loud? Couldn’t remember the last time he’s said that, not even to his nieces and nephews. They were used to mum.
The two-year-old sat patient beside him, scrimmaging his bowed legs and gawking longingly at everyone’s food. Keir had set their backs to the floor-to-ceiling Plexiglas which separated the dining room from the shrieks of hyper children on the other side. This also gave him a clear view for whenever Myah came around the corner to join them.
He leaned his arms along the table and smiled at the curious kid. Myah said he didn’t like to go out, but Dylan seemed fine. Slow to develop social skills never spelled a life sentence that they’d stay that way. Dylan engaged, and acted a lot more outgoing than Neely.
Keir remembered how his mother used to tease him about his shyness. She believed he’d come out of it. He’d never been sure, even today. Though Dylan didn’t behave like a total people-person, he didn’t abhor strangers or cling to Myah as some children would.
A father and daughter across the way ate their food wordlessly. His gaze snagged with the man’s. The eyes ran over him then Dylan. The calculations made him uncomfortable.
Keir leaned back in his seat. He hung out with black, brown, as well as East Asian, but the implication of the stare dawned on him in the strangest way; he sat with a black child, obviously not his, waiting for said child’s black mother. Did people think they were a couple?
That’s what he got for intruding on their play date. He wasn’t there for a relationship, but hanging out with Myah topped his list today.
He half unzipped the tab of his hoodie, warm enough to tear it off. The father turned in his direction again while Keir drummed his fingers on the table. Acceptance? Disdain? He looked away where his gaze clashed with the unmistakable disapproval of a huge black man several tables over.
Keir tipped his head a degree and leveled his stare. What. Punk. Ignorant Man turned away. That’s right. Mind your business.
His attention shifted to Dylan who scrambled to his feet, evidently thinking Keir’s nerves could take him stomping around on the small surface.
“Whoa, whoa.” Keir circled his waist and grabbed a fistful of jean jacket to steady the toddler as well as his own peace of mind.
“See what I have to put up with?” A tray full of food hit the tabletop.
Keir looked up, startled to find Myah standing behind the opposite chair. When did she get here? That’s why Dylan got so excited. Must be nice to have someone so happy to see you.
He sat up straighter. “Yeah, well—”
“Mommy! Mbo Room.”
“And see how much I’m loved above the Jumbo Room? I better get him in there before he bounces off the table.”
Keir stood and scooped Dylan into his arms. “Sit. I’ll take him in.”
Myah’s face shadowed as he turned and edged his way into the every-man-for-himself fiasco. He’d been with his nieces and nephews to a couple of these. A roomful of screaming kids didn’t faze him. Once he started his monster giant zombie routine, they usually screamed to be his friend.
He set Dylan down and watched him take off like a shot. Dylan went for the slide, but the journey down consisted of him digging his heels in and scooting his butt forward until he reached the bottom. The tyke’s face brightened with the accomplishment.
Okay, kid. Whatever floats your boat. Through the Plexiglas, the little guy beamed at his mother. Keir looked also, seeing her wave and laugh effortlessly. When she looked at him, she shrugged and grinned.
Things were safe enough. He went out the Jumbo Room door, then glanced at Myah and pointed to the restaurant exit en route to retrieve his food. He smiled as he thought of the impromptu date. Date? He ripped down the hoodie, grabbed his food and went inside to join her.