Pictures of You (14 page)

             
I ate two graham crackers and a banana for breakfast as I proceeded to call every used car dealership within a thirty mile radius. Twenty minutes into my ridiculous undertaking I felt like I won the lottery. “Mike’s Okay Cars, can I help you?”

             
“Hello, I was wondering if an Adrien Gray works there?”

             
“Yes, but he’s on break. Would you like me to grab him?”

             
“No, thanks. That won’t be necessary.”

***

              “Hello. Can I help you? Were you looking for something specific?”

             
I shaded my eyes against the hopeful noon sun. My heart clobbered my rib cage the instant I saw his face. Each time I saw him, he was more beautiful than the last. His sheepish smile made me weak in the knees. When I dropped my hand, a look of recognition moved across his face.

             
“Um, I’m looking for a car. Something affordable.”

             
“September? What are you doing here?” He furrowed his brow.

             
Guiltily I turned away, pretending to check out a primeval Ford. With water-stained seats, a crack in the windshield and nothing left of a paint job, it looked like it should’ve been put to rest years ago.

             
He smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re really here to buy a car.”

             
I couldn’t help but smile. If only he knew. I gave up on the whole driving thing since the accident. Well, since the panic attack, since test driving that car with John. Anxiety was another fun perk that often linked arms with tragedy. I had recurring car accident nightmares, many replaying Abby’s last moments. Some with other loved ones dying. These days I even struggled to remain calm as a passenger. I wondered if it would be socially acceptable to wear protective gear on public transportation.

             
Adrien laughed, but he eyed me suspiciously. “Are you stalking me now? I should’ve made a banner proclaiming my death wish years ago. Didn’t know it would make me so popular with the ladies.”

             
I groaned at his dumb joke. “Tell me about this one,” I said, pointing to the Ford. Why did I feel more nervous around him now than ever?

             
“This one’s a lemon. The engine’s shot. I’m not selling it to you.” He laughed that silly laugh I knew I could never tire of. A
heh-heh-heh
, followed by a sharp inhale that reminded me of a dying donkey. He laid a palm on the hood and watched me play out my charade. I snuck glances at him as I examined the car. He wore a white shirt with a pair of light green slacks and an emerald tie. His hair was messy as usual, his jaw especially prominent in the midday sunlight.

             
“You look pretty happy for someone who’s so depressed,” I said, peering into the side window, pretending to check the mileage.

             
“Looks can be deceiving. I even have my entire family fooled.” He flashed me a sexy grin. Did he know he was flirting? Maybe I should warn him that could be dangerous under the circumstances. He examined my face as he spoke. “I left home when I was seventeen. I graduated early.” Oh great. So he’s super smart, too. What’s not to like about this guy? “We’re not very close. I sort of pushed them away years ago.”             

             
“So they don’t know of the turmoil you’re in?”

             
He shrugged. He drew circles in the gravel with his shoe.

             
A man with splotches of oil on his balding head interrupted. “Adrien, there’s a couple over there looking at the black Honda. Can you help them out when you get a minute? I have to take off.”

             
“Sure thing, Mike.”

             
Mike wiped his head with a dirty bandana. “I should be back in forty minutes.” He turned to me. “Adrien here will take care of you.”

             
“Yes, I’m sure he will.”  We watched Mike jog through the lot, zigzagging through exhausted, shoddy cars. Now I got the name.
Mike’s Okay Cars
.
Mike’s Good Cars
or
Mikes Great Cars
just wouldn’t fit.

             
“Look, I’m not really here for a car,” I said, feeling rushed now. I shoved my hands into the kangaroo pouch of my hoodie.

             
“I didn’t think you were.” Adrien gazed at me, his face unreadable.

             
“I’d better go in a minute. Let you get back to work. But…the reason I’m here. I wanted to see you again,” I stammered.

             
“Wow, you’re a strange girl. You know that? I like you September, but let’s get real here…Maybe if we met a few years ago…”

             
I bit my lip. “Is that a no?”

             
“Why do you want to go out again? So you can play the hero and stop me from hurting myself? Because if you are, then I don’t have time for you.”

             
“Ideally, yes, I would like to change your mind. But I see it’s useless. Going nowhere.” I kicked the old Ford’s back tire.

             
He frowned, inhaled sharply.  “Good. You’re right. Nowhere. If you don’t mind, that couple needs my attention.”

             
“Yes. Right. Goodbye then, Adrien,” I said, defeated. I brushed past him as I left, angry tears filling my eyes.

14

             
“September, wait.”

             
I spun around to see Adrien running after me. His emerald tie swung back and forth like a happy dog’s tail.

             
“What?” I wasn’t sure whether to feel annoyed or triumphant. I guess I felt a little of both.

             
“Okay,” he said, raising his eyebrows, shoving his hands into his pockets.

             
“Okay, what?”

             
He was slightly winded. “Okay let’s go out again. But only if you promise me something.”

             
“What?” I eyed him suspiciously.

             
“Promise me you won’t try to stop me.” He folded his arms, his eyes adhered to mine. He was serious, I saw it in his face, in his clenched jaw, the way his eyes met mine evenly. There was no stopping him.

             
Was it worth it? To spend a few days with a guy who’d just abandon me like John and Abby? I swallowed. Suddenly I was super thirsty. Fur coated the inside of my mouth. I needed water and pronto. Looking around me, I wondered where I might find it. I noted a fast food restaurant across the street. A guy in a hamburger suit dancing like a drunken ape waved an advertisement in the air:
Cheeseburgers 2 for $3
. To the right of that, a bagel stand. Did they have water? I was sure they would. I sighed, meeting Adrien’s eyes again. “Adrien, you can’t ask that of me.”

             
“Then I’d better get back to work.” Without a second’s hesitation, he turned and began walking away.

             
“No—wait.” I bit my lip. What am I doing? Stupid, stupid, stupid. “Okay. I promise.” Now what? A promise was a promise, something I never took lightly. What was I doing here anyway? Didn’t I have anything better to do with my life? Maybe I could still help him. Somehow. In some way change his mind. There was a pretty big chance I was utterly pathetic. Maybe too stubborn. Too altruistic. Abby and her Christian ways have rubbed off on me over the years. Heaven knows I didn’t learn this behavior from my family. I wanted to stop Adrien from hurting himself and I was sure there could be a way to do it without him actually knowing that was what I was doing. So maybe in a way I was planning to break the promise, but it was for the greater good.

             
Okay, this wasn’t only about my unselfish side coming through. The truth? I wanted Adrien, period. It was a breakthrough, I realized in wonder. I was finally getting over John. Or at least I was starting to.

             
“Good,” he said, buying it. “What’re you doing right now?”

             
I wasn’t expecting that. “Right now? Don’t you have to work?”

             
“Screw work.”

             
“Won’t you get fired?”

             
He chuckled, threw me a look that for a second made me question my own sanity. “Does it matter if I’m going to be
dead
in thirteen days?”

             
“Oh.” It was all I could say. He had a point.

             
“I’d much rather spend the rest of my time playing than at a job I hate.”

             
“Makes sense.” Once again, I hesitated. I could leave now. I didn’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have to feel responsible if some crazy guy wanted to off himself. I shouldn’t be playing Russian Roulette with my already broken heart.

             
“So…What do you want to do?” he asked, his green eyes drawing me in.

             
I stiffened, feeling butterflies in my stomach. Would I be able to stay unattached? Could I do this? “What about the Honda couple?”

             
“Come on, September, they’ll be fine. Loosen up.
Live a little
.” He playfully punched me in the arm.

             
I snorted. “I could say the same to you, Mr. I’m-Killing-Myself-In-Thirteen-Days.”

             
“Ha, ha.”

             
I clutched my purse and said, “I have a few errands to run, then we could do something.”

             
“If you don’t mind, I’ll join you on your errands.”

             
“They’re boring.”

             
“Not with you. You’re far from boring.”

             
“Glad I amuse you.”

***

             
“What made you change your mind?” I asked, examining bell peppers, shoving the biggest, unblemished ones into a plastic sack. The first errand to cross off my list: grocery shopping.

             
“About what?” Adrien said, pushing the cart, following me around the store like a lost duckling.

             
“About hanging out with me.”

             
“I figure I may as well have some fun before…” He trailed off. He didn’t need to finish his sentence.

             
I frowned as I tossed a bag of organic baby carrots into the cart. “What makes you so sure I’m fun? And why me? Wouldn’t you rather spend your last days with family or something?”

             
“Nah. Like I said before I’m not so close to them anymore.”

             
I shook my head. “That’s tragic.”

             
“Are you close to your family?” he asked, resting his elbows on the cart, gazing at me intently.

             
“No. Never have been. Well, not since I was little. I wish I could say I was.” I grabbed two baskets of strawberries then led Adrien to the cereal aisle.

             
“Who would you see then? Who would you spend your last days with?” His green eyes bore into mine. He was so close now I could smell him. He smelled of old cars, hair gel and something else. Sandalwood? Trying to be subtle, I stole another whiff of his scent. I found it strangely sexy.

             
“I don’t know. My friend Chris maybe.” Four months ago I would’ve said Abby. Without hesitation. But that was then and this is now.

             
“Is this Chris a he or a she?” Adrien asked, reaching a box of Cheerios for me.

             
“Thanks. Chris is a he. He’s my closest friend. We work together.”

             
“Ah. Chris the toilet scrubber.” Adrien grinned.

             
I slugged him playfully. “You’re not funny. I clean restrooms, too, you know. It’s a perfectly respectable line of work. It pays the bills.”

***

              “Come in, September,” Mrs. Watkins said through the dirty apartment door, her voice weak and worn, like a talking baby doll with dying batteries. I had to practically press my ear against the door to hear her.

             
I pulled out the key to unlock the door (she gave me a copy of it about two months ago) and let myself in. I was greeted by the scent of moth balls, dust and stale vintage perfume. “Hello, Mrs. Watkins. How’re you today?”