Paper Cranes (3 page)

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Authors: Nicole Hite

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BOOK: Paper Cranes
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“Wanna ride with me?” she muttered.

“Naw, I’m good. I’ll follow you,” I lied.

“You sure about that?” she asked again, this time with concern in her eyes.

“Positive, Jo. I’ll see you at home.”

Watching JoJo walk away was all together unbearable. She needed me to be strong, but I was anything but. For the first time in a long time, I was falling apart. A stickler for the rules, I always had everything planned out; it was within my control, but now this. This made me question my sanity and heart.

I pounded the steering wheel of my beat up VW Bug; cursing with each thud.

“Why me?!?!” I threw my hands in the air. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Over the years I had never truly had a relationship with God. Sure, he was my homie when I needed to vent, but had he really been there for me? Then again, had I been there for him?

I took several deep breaths before turning the key in the ignition. The engine sputtered as the tears began to pool again.

“Piece of shit car,” I swore as I grasped the steering wheel. Shaking the immovable object, I basically just looked like a convulsing idiot.

All of a sudden a loud thug came from the driver side window. Scaring me half to death, I slowly turned my head to find my assailant.

“Having some trouble, ma’am?” A deep southern accent echoed off the glass. He was striking, tall, although I was seated, I could tell he was every bit of 6’4. He had a head full of beautiful brown curls, which covered his left eye just so as he leaned down to make eye contact with me. As he leaned on the door with one arm, I could see the faint shadows of his happy trail curl into his jeans. He was handsome in every way imaginable.

I’d had this exact scenario in my head a dozen times as a single female, but never imagined it would happen in real life. A dashing young man swoops in to save the day as his curls kicked back from an oncoming breeze. Except that’s not at all how this was going to play out.

Here I was, mascara dripping down my flushed cheeks, snot crusted under my nose and red-rimmed eyes. I was a hot mess. I expected the gentleman to recoil in horror as I turned the handle to roll down the window a little.

“Just a bit. Do you know anything about cars…” I trailed off.

“Lee,” he responded.

“What?” I was confused.

“That’s my name, and I know enough. Can I take a look? And you are…”

“Kathryn, but my friends call me Kat.”

“Lovely to meet you, Kat.”

Lee seemed like a polite guy, but I was no fool.

“Can I see your license?” I huffed out as the absurdity of my inquiry hit me.

“Uh, sure,” he said handing over the square piece of plastic. Grazing fingers, I noticed they were worked and calloused. Working man hands. There was oil under his nails, which you could tell he tried desperately to clean.

Retrieving my cell phone from my bag, I snapped a quick photo of the I.D. Lee’s hair was a lot shorter in the picture and strangely reminded me of Justin Timberlake during his N*Sync days. Nonetheless, he was gorgeous, all the way down to his cocky grin and adorable dimple. And those eyes, Jesus, those eyes were hypnotizing. They were chocolate brown with tiny flecks of gold sprinkled around the irises.

“You know, just in case I end up in a ditch somewhere.”

“Fair enough,” he accepted the license through the crack in the glass. “Now it’s your turn. Hand it over.”

It only seemed fair that I reciprocate. Sliding the card through the opening, Lee took it eyeing me with a questioning look on his face. I immediately felt I was being interrogated from a state trooper. I was even ready to hand over my registration by the way he examined the card.

Snapping a photo as well, “In case I end up in ditch somewhere.” His laughter was charming and endearing while his dimple drew me in.

Hesitantly, I opened the car door with a little assistance from Lee. The shrill screeches from the rusted metal nearly knocked Lee on his ass as he tugged to allow me to escape.

“I think you need a little WD-40 on those hinges.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I retorted sarcastically.

“Cherophobia is the fear of happiness.”

“What?” I bantered with a confused look on my face.

“See, if you already knew that, well, then my objective of teaching you something you didn’t know just went out the window.”

“You are a bizarre creature, you know that, right?”

“I’ve been told that a time or two. Thank you.”

“It wasn’t…forget about it.”

I was being unfairly brutal to Lee, all he was trying to do was help. Just because I was having a shitty day didn’t mean that I needed to force it onto him.

“I’m sorry. I’m having a particularly heinous day.”

“Understandable,” he stated, not prodding for more information. To him, I was just another girl with car trouble. But I wasn’t. I was a girl, with a terminal illness – soon to be a fleeting memory in his day.

I tried avoiding eye contact by rounding the hood to take a seat in the driver’s seat.

“Go ahead and pop the hood and I’ll pull my truck around so we can get you up and running again.”

Reaching underneath the steering column, I released the lever to pop the hood. As soon as the hood detached itself from the hook, Lee lifted the heavy metal. I could just barely make out the lines of his cut abs as they filtered into his jeans as he rested the hood into his palm. Lee propped the hood with the stand as he leaned over to look at my engine.

“You’ve got some old parts in here. You should come to my shop and I’ll fix you up.”

“Are you a mechanic or something?” I suddenly felt at ease. I grew up around garages as a teenager thanks to an old boyfriend and the smell of oil and metal was a huge turn on, as I grew older. Although I grew up around garages, I didn’t know a lick about cars. I was more into the men working on them.

Just my luck.

“Yep. My family owns Daniels Auto on Dauphine Street. I’m going to get my jumper cables, don’t turn over the engine until I tell you, okay?”

Lee was a nice distraction from today’s earlier events. Watching him walk away to his truck, I was able to get a good view of his tight butt. The denim pockets cupped his cheeks perfectly.

What are you doing, Kat? Why would you do that to yourself? You’re not going to be here that long and as soon as he finds out about you, he’ll run away screaming. Save yourself the drama, honey.

Shaking away the thoughts of getting my hands on his ass, I waited for his return. Snatching my cell from the passenger side, I shot JoJo a message letting her know I would be a little late.

“If I don’t make it home in the next hour, tell the police this guy did it,” I hit send with the attachment of Lee’s ID.

Before I could retrieve a response, Lee was back with his giant truck. Letting the engine roar, he hooked his cables to mine.

“Let it rip.”

Cranking the key, the engine growled before starting up. It was clearly angry at my disturbing its restful slumber. Giving him thumbs up, Lee detached the cables, throwing them in the bed of his truck.

He began walking toward me with intent in his eye. He gripped something in between his fingertips as he came closer and closer. A worried feeling grew within me as the steps grew shorter.

Honestly, could my life get any worse?

Exiting the dilapidated car, I waited for his approach.

Before he had a chance to speak, I interjected just in case he had other plans in mind.

“Thank you, Lee. I don’t know what I would have done without your help. Please let me pay you for your time.”

“Your money’s no good,” he smiled.

“Well now I just feel like a bitch for not paying you. Please let me pay you,” I pleaded.

“How about this,” he began as he retrieved a pen from his chest pocket. Flipping the piece of paper, he held in his fingers, he scrolled on the white parchment. Handing me the paper, I couldn’t tear my eyes from his. They were a warm shade of brown to compliment his tanned skin.

“Call me and we can work on those other parts. Then we can talk figures. Sound okay?”

My train of thought was completely lost as the electricity of our fingers touched sending a shockwave of emotions and tingles throughout my already beaten body. Instead of saying no, I nodded my head in agreement and accepted the paper watching him walk away. Nothing good could come out of this, but dammit if I wasn’t drawn to him.

I may have ALS, but dammit if I wasn’t a woman as well. The attraction didn’t just vanish overnight. I was still here, right here, right now. Further, he was being polite offering his information in my time of need. Besides, he could be hard up and need the money.

Watching Lee jump in his truck and pull away, I smiled for the first time all day. Climbing into the car, I retrieved my phone to send Jo a quick message.

“Headed home now. Hot chocolate and McNaughty ready?”

I finally looked down at my tiny hand to see the paper he’d given me. Unfolding my fingers, I found an origami crane.

How odd, yet beautiful for such a burly man.

Scrolled on the underside of the wings was Lee’s perfect penmanship. His number was elegant and precise. As I flipped the wings down, written on the crane’s wings was a simple declaration and yet the most meaningful thing I had received all day.

“You are beautiful.”

As the tears flowed, I tucked the precious gem into my handbag. For the first time today, I was shedding tears of joy. Too bad I was going to break his heart one way or another.

 

I
pulled up to the massive Victorian house, parking my piece of shit VW bug behind JoJo’s pristine Mercedes. Jo had certainly come from money, but never once did that matter to her. Aside from her car, she kept her financial status on the down low. Jo’s family made big bucks running a successful law firm here in the French Quarter in New Orleans; however, I questioned how it stayed in business with Mr. Clare’s obsession with alcohol. Jo insisted she didn’t want or need their money; however, they couldn’t resist buying her the car and Victorian house.

The house oozed N’Orleans hospitality and sat down the street from an old fortuneteller’s shop. I’d always wanted to go in, mainly to see if she was full of shit, but I never could gather the courage to walk through the door. I had met Esmerelda a few times on the streets and at the corner store, but never took the time to sit down with her. After today’s findings, there was no way in hell I was going to step foot in that place.

For all I knew there would be tons of voodoo dolls, tapestries, and snake oil scattered on her walls and tables; much like Whoopie Goldberg in Ghost.

Oh, God, what if she talked to the dead?

I’d love to fuck with JoJo if that were true. Then again, my morbid curiosity was getting the best of me.

Sitting in the car, I had to psych myself up to go in. Lee was a nice distraction especially since he didn’t give me the sad, “I’m so sorry,” face. Now it was time to face the music.

I was just about to place the key in the giant wooden doors when it opened automatically. Standing at the doorway waiting was JoJo. She looked as if she had been waiting for me the whole time. I could tell she had been crying from the splotchy tinting on her face.

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