Settling Down, Part 2
May. 24th, 2009 08:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fleurlbThe next month and a half were a blur for Tim and Al. They had more work at the garage than they could handle, even with the help of the kids in the internship program Al had set up, which allowed a few Dillon High School students to work at the garage for vocational education credit. She was pushing Billy to hire someone as well, but he was reluctant for reasons neither Al or Tim fully understood.
They were also busy with the wedding plans. If Tim had had any doubts about marrying Al, they all would have been put to rest by the planning process. She wanted exactly the kind of wedding he could picture enjoying – a party at the lake with a band and barbecue, a giant bonfire, daisies and wildflowers, and the whole place glowing softly in a frost of white Christmas tree lights.
She told him, much to his relief, that he could wear whatever he wanted as long as the outfit didn't include ripped jeans. He asked her to wear a dress, since he couldn't even remember the last time she had. She agreed, but warned him that she wouldn't be able to carry off a big, traditional, pouffy dress.
They didn't have much family to pressure them into something more ordinary, like a church wedding. The only traditional thing that they were pressured into was a formal engagement picture, taken at Sears and published in the paper. Al found the whole idea ridiculous and told Tim they should wear their work uniforms, which they did. She also refused to go in for any of the cheesy poses that put the ring front-and-center in the picture.
One day at the beginning of February, Billy saw an ad in the paper for a going-out-of-business liquidation sale at one of those places that sold pool supplies and Christmas stuff. He reckoned they could get all the Christmas tree lights they'd need for the wedding and save the cost of having to rent them. At lunch, he and Tim went out to the store, leaving Al behind. She was replacing the water pump and alternator in an old Buick Skylark while an intern, D'Andre, stocked and managed the parts inventory.
Al like D'Andre, since he was pretty much the definition of a gentle giant, standing a solid 6'5” and weighing at least 280. They'd had high hopes for him as a linebacker at the high school. But he just didn't like hurting people. D'Andre was a good worker and he got on well with the everyone at the garage. His size and slow manner hid the fact that he was quite smart and had real mechanical aptitude.
Al had the the Buick set up close to the front desk, so she could handle any customers that came in. She wasn't expecting any since their next drop-off appointment wasn't until later in the afternoon, but sometimes people just walked in without appointments.
She heard the bell on the door jingle as the door rattled closed and she looked up to find a middle-aged guy walking into the garage, looking around in an appraising manner. She walked over to the desk, wiping her hands on a rag as she walked.
“Good afternoon, how can I help you?” she asked in her best customer service voice.
“Billy or Timmy around?”
“Sorry, they're out for a bit. I can help you though, if you want to schedule a repair or get an estimate.” Her inclination would have been to smile, but something about this guy put her on edge and confused her. His hair was on the longish side and his scruffy grey and tan beard suggested that he hadn't shaved for several days. She put his age at around 50, but the lines of his face showed a hard-lived life, some combination of alcohol and sun were her guess.
The confusing part was that he sort of reminded her of someone and she wondered if she'd met him before. It was like when you hear a faint bit of a song, just the melody, and you can't quite place it. Something about the way the guy stood, the way his hair fell over his forehead and he tilted his head to the side to keep it out of his eyes. It was somehow familiar, but not in any recognizable way.
“Hey,” he said as he put his hands on the desk and leaned over it, crowding into Al's personal space and causing her to take a step back. The dogs were in the back with D'Andre and Al felt exposed and a little nervous.
“You're the one who's marrying Timmy, ain't you? I seen your engagement announcement in the paper. Thought it was a joke at first.”
She narrowed her eyes and stared hard at him. She could count on one hand the number of people who called him “Timmy.” It was overly familiar and it bothered her. She embraced the anger, since it was better than fear. Still, she struggled to maintain her professional demeanor.
He gave her a wolfish smile that made her feel like a trapped rabbit. “You got no idea who I am, do you?”
“Sir, I realize the accent might be a tad misleading, but I'm not from Texas. I don't know everyone who's ever played for the Dillon Panthers, so, sorry, I don't know you.”
He let out a bitter bark of laughter and shook his head, murmuring something to himself that Al couldn't hear.
“Do you have something that we can do for you or would you like to leave a message or something?”
“I can just wait here, until they get back, you said they wouldn't be long, didn't you?”
“I'm sorry, but I'm not a hostess, I'm a mechanic and I need to get this truck down like yesterday, so really, you probably should leave.”
“Feisty,” he said in a low voice. “I can see Timmy's got his hands full with you.”
She sighed. “For the last time, do you want to schedule a repair or leave a message?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. “My truck could use an oil change.”
“Fine.” Al took the keys, trying not to cringe when his fingers purposely brushed hers. Then she turned and called for D'Andre. She tried not to be infuriated by the intern's slow pace.
“Good news for you, D'Andre. This man here needs an oil change, so you're off parts for now to get it done.”
The teenager took the keys from her and headed out to retrieve the man's truck. Al had never been so relieved that she'd convinced Billy to build out that separate waiting room as when she smiled politely and directed the man to it. She watched him amble off and was reluctant to turn her back on him. Although part of her felt silly, she waited until the door shut behind him before she went back to work on the Buick.
Just as D'Andre was finishing his work on the truck, Tim returned.
“Hi, Al. The sale was a big bust. All they had left were those blinking lights that would probably give everybody seizures or something,” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek before she even had a chance to stand up straight.
“Where's Billy?”
“Mindy called and needed him to pick up something for TJ's cold. Why? Is something wrong” He scanned her face, unhappy with the tension he saw there.
“There's a guy in the waiting room, D'Andre is finishing up his truck now. I don't know, this guy was asking for you both and he made me uncomfortable. There's something not right about him.”
Tim's forehead wrinkled as he tried to think of who it could be. Dear God, he thought to himself, please don't let it be Guy Raston.
“Sort of fat guy, crazy sideburns?”
Al shook her head. “Tall and scruffy.”
“Did you look like a meth addict?”
“Are you joking?”
“I wish I was.”
“No. He looked like he could maybe be a drunk, but he wasn't acting drunk right now.”
Tim shrugged. “Doesn't narrow it down. Let me try to see what we're dealing with here.”
He approached the waiting room window at the best angle to let him see the chairs without being fully in sight himself. Bruno and George joined him in the prowl.
“Looks like he's asleep,” he whispered as he walked closer to the middle of the window.
When he got a decent look at the figure dozing in the chair, Tim froze, every muscle tensing to stone. Al watched his jaw muscles twitch. Bruno caught Tim's mood and started to growl low in his throat. When George joined in, it should have been comical but no one was laughing.
Tim slowly turned and walked back to her.
“I'm thinking we let Billy handle this.”
“So you know that guy then?”
“I guess you could say that. He's our father.”
“Oh....god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult him.” Her face was read.
Tim put his hand on her shoulder. “It's okay. You know what I love about you?”
“What?”
“You've got great instincts.”
*** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** ****
When Billy returned to the garage, he found Al finishing up the work on the Skylark and his brother pacing around next to the car. Tim asked to have a word with him the office. Billy shrugged and followed him back there, surprised when Tim shut the door.
“Billy, we got a problem....Dad's here.”
“Dad? Our dad? Here, where?” Billy's forehead wrinkled in confusion..
“Here in the waiting room. He came in asking for us, and then said his truck needed an oil change.”
“You let him in here?” Billy asked in an angry, incredulous tone.
“No, Al was here when he came in. And don't you dare say anything – how was she supposed to know who he was?”
Billy ran his hand through his hair. “Does he know we're back?”
Tim shook his head. “He's sleeping in the waiting room.”
Billy let out a sigh of relief. “Easy, then, we let D'Andre give him his truck back and he goes along on his way. No harm, no foul.”
Tim rolled his eyes. “Billy, you really think he's going to go away that easy? Besides, he knows where you live. He'll probably just go wait there. Maybe have coffee with Mindy and meet his grandkids.”
“Shit. I do not want that man anywhere near my kids.” Billy picked up the phone and buzzed Al on the intercom, asking her to come back to the office. She was there in seconds.
“Yeah?” She asked as she closed the door behind her. She was listening to Billy talking, but her eyes were on Tim.
“I need you to go to my place and tell Mindy to take the kids to her mother's. Right away. Help her leave. She's going to give you a hard time because TJ's got a cold and she just got him to sleep. But I know she'll listen to you.”
“What should I tell her?”
“Just tell her that Walt's back and I'd feel better if she spent some time out of the house. Tell her I'll call her at Angela's in a few hours.”
Al nodded and gave Tim's hand a little squeeze before she left. His fingers were uncharacteristically cold and his face was blank.
“Now what do we do?” asked Tim after Al left.
“Now, we wait maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, and then we give him the keys to his truck and tell him to get the hell out and stay gone.”
“Do you think that'll work?”
“You got a better idea?”
Tim shook his head and looked down, avoiding Billy's eyes.
“Shit, Tim, you don't want to listen to whatever he's got to say, do you?”
“No, I just-”
“Just nothing. You don't owe that man a thing. Not a damn thing. It didn't exactly work out the last time you gave him a second chance.”
Tim folded his arms and sat down in the chair in front of Billy's desk. Billy waited for him to say something, but Tim always had a talent for shutting down. Billy sighed and leaned up against the desk.
The brothers sat in silence, not looking at each other, letting the minutes tick by, until Billy stood up straight and took a deep breath. “Ready?”
Tim nodded and followed his brother out of the room. They found D'Andre closing the hood on Walt's truck. Billy took the keys from him.
“Do me a favor, D'Andre, go tell that guy his truck is ready, that I'm out here with the keys. Then wait by the front desk there, just in case you have to call the cops.”
The intern's eyes widened. “You expectin' trouble?”
Billy shrugged. “Please, just do it.”
D'Andre walked over to the waiting room and Billy tried not to groan. He'd forgotten the kid was slower than a Dallas traffic jam. Each second seemed to increase the tension in his brain and he just wanted to get this done.
Walt came out of the waiting room and walked across the floor in confident, even steps, as though he was stepping onto a golf course to play an opponent he expected to beat easily.
“Billy, Timmy. You boys have really done well here. I'm proud. Damn proud.”
“Save it Dad,” said Billy through clenched teeth. “I don't know why you're here and I don't want to know. Just get in the truck and leave.”
Walt flinched. “Billy, I know you're mad, but I was hoping we could talk. A man gets to be my age and he starts to regret things, wants to change them.”
Billy's face was stone. Tim stood next to him, refusing to meet his father's pleading looks.
“Look, boys, I'm begging you here, I don't expect you to let me in the way you did last time. I know I screwed that up. But, you know, I'm getting older and realizing what's really important.”
Billy let out a short, bitter laugh. “You mean you're starting to realize you're not going to be able to hustle golf for a living much longer and you're looking for new suckers to take advantage of. No way. Just get in the truck and leave. Now.”
Walt looked at his younger son. “Timmy-”
“No, Dad. Don't,” said Tim, his voice pure steel. “You're not welcome here, or at the house. Show up at either place, we'll call the cops.”
Walk looked like he was going to argue. Instead, he put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “All right, all right. No need to threaten me. I wasn't trying to make trouble.”
Billy rolled his eyes. Tim looked over to the desk and saw Al standing next to D'Andre. Usually, it made Tim smile because the intern's massive size made her look like even tinier in comparison. But nothing was funny to him right now.
“I'm just your father, that's all. Y'all want to forget that or pretend like it doesn't mean anything, well, then, I guess that's on you.” Walt got into his truck and drove away.
Billy looked at his brother. “That was almost too easy.”
“You think he'll be back?” Tim asked, looking down as Al slipped her arms around his waist.
“I hope to God not, but who knows?” Billy headed off to his office, wanting nothing more than to take a handful of aspirin and have a nap.
“You okay?” Al's voice was warm and her eyes were concerned. It was an invitation to talk, but Tim didn't feel like talking.
He nodded. “You done with that Skylark?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Anything coming in this afternoon that Billy and D'Andre can't handle?”
She shook her head. “Afternoon looks quiet.”
“Good. Let me talk to Billy. I'm thinking he'll let us have the rest of the day off.”
Tim picked up the phone and rang Billy's extension. Al couldn't make out any of his mumbled conversation but she could see his shoulders relaxing. He returned to her and took her hand.
“Let's go take the dogs to the lake and just relax, okay?”
Al nodded and Tim forced himself to smile, even though he knew it didn't reach his eyes and he knew that Al would notice and know the difference.
*** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** ****
Tim spent the next two weeks in a state of heightened alert. Every time the door jangled open at the garage, he expected to see Walt. Each time he saw Billy, he expected to hear that their father had been to the house. He and Billy never talked about what happened, as though just mentioning their father's name could cause him to reappear.
Walt seemed to have gone back to wherever he'd come from. Still, it was hard not to feel him hovering at the edges of their lives, an unspoken threat that could return at any time. Eventually, though, Tim was able to relax and believe that the man was gone again for good.
It was Friday and Mindy's birthday party was that evening. Their workload at the garage was unusually low and by mid-afternoon, they'd finished all the work on the cars. Tim took the truck he'd just finished out for a test drive and returned to find Billy gone, presumably to get the house ready for the party. He could hear voices from the stockroom and could tell Al was back there with Kevin, another of the interns, unloading and putting away the latest parts shipment.
Tim went back to the stockroom and leaned against the door frame. Kevin was tall, a little nerdy, and sort of reminded him of Landry. He also had the most massive, obvious crush on Al ever, even though she refused to believe it and Tim loved to tease her about it.
“No way, there's no way Batman could take Wolverine,” said Kevin, who was stocking the higher shelves.
Al was sitting on the floor with a clipboard, checking the parts against their order. “You're so wrong about that.”
“You're talking about a guy with healing, superstrength, an adamantium skeleton, and metal claws going up against a rich guy with toys. Batman doesn't even have a superpower.”
Al shook her head. “Sure he does, he's crazy. That's his superpower. Besides, he's smart and Wolverine fights angry. Batman could totally trick him into a trap and then it's game over. Me and Batman win.”
“Don't go up against her when it involves Batman, kid, you're always going to lose,” said Tim.
Kevin was so surprised to hear Tim's voice, he nearly dropped the oil filter he was holding. “Oh, hey, Riggs, didn't see you standing there,” the boy stammered.
Al looked up and smiled. As she was standing up to greet him, the phone started ringing. She jogged out to the front desk to answer it.
“Riggins Rigs, how can I help you?”
Tim could hear her from his spot in the door frame. But he was having too much fun messing with Kevin, giving him half-angry looks, to want to move.
“No, no sir. I don't think so. No, thank you. Not interested.”
She was quiet for about thirty seconds. “I said no,” she said sharplyas she hung up the phone. Tim was surprised because she rarely used that tone of voice at all let alone on a business call. When she returned to the storeroom, Tim gave her a questioning look.
“Salesman,” she said with a tight smile.
Tim nodded and put his hand on her back. He could feel the tension in her muscles and wondered what was wrong, but she just gave him another smile and went back to her clipboard and parts.
