Low // Cracker

More Grease. This time the grease is soothing in ways the burger wasn't—That shit came back to bite me at the dojo. Not only was I sticky from the Coke shower but I was gassy from the burger. If I didn't already have a black belt I'm sure I'd have been banned. Not that Jujitsu is still my life, but it's a good stress reliever now and then. Not nearly as detrimental as burger grease.

Still worth it, though.

Now I'm in my true sanctuary. Where Jujitsu takes a physical toll on my body to release the stress, working on cars is a mental release. I problem solve, I put pieces together and watch as something broken down becomes not only usable but beautiful again.

The second I got home I opened the design that Garrett had sent me earlier today for the GTO. Off the hook. That guy really is an aesthetics genius. He took a spin on the vintage angle and gave the car a southern rock feeling. Very Lynyrd Skynyrd in a way I can't exactly pinpoint, but the first thing that came to mind when I saw the burnt orange and dark grey combination he put together was Free Bird. I turned that shit up and felt it in my soul looking at the mock up drawing he'd done.

And just like looking at the bombshell this afternoon, my answer was a screaming, Hell yes.

A few more adjustments to the fuel intake and this GTO will be ready to get dressed. The buzz I get from finishing a car is what I live for now, not the challenge of competition. I've won enough first place trophies in my time as a black belt, had my name in the news more than once. It lost its appeal after freshman year. Part of me wishes I'd been banned from the art for good, rather than just the nine months that I was. Then I wouldn't have so many recent memories of sparring with my dad. Maybe I'd still be drawn to the art of it, rather than just using it as a work out.

Doesn't matter. It is what it is, and here I am working in the garage again and not having a break down. Progress. Some day I might even be able to take the cover off of the classic out on the grass. Not counting on it, though.

Standing up from under the hood, I survey my progress. This thing was total junk when I found it. Something about the car called to me. It's odd that it hardly took anytime at all for me to be comfortable in the garage again but the thought of driving his car makes me sweat. It's like being in the workspace, tuning up an engine, honors my dad's memory, but driving his car is too close to visiting his grave...or his ghost. Either one is too powerful for me to face so soon. It's only been six months since he died. My mom still hasn't cleaned out his closet, how am I supposed to sit in the driver's seat of his baby?

Dark thoughts. I shake them off and instead set my mind on the goddess from the burger joint. She was sunshine in a bottle, a ball of flames that absolutely burned me, third degree. I'm still stunned by the experience.

Of course, the second she stepped out the doors and sauntered with all of the confidence in the world to her wreck of a classic, the whispering started. Never before had I been so outspoken in a public setting, getting myself doused for my efforts. My reputation probably took somewhat of a hit, but nothing I can't recover from. All it took in the burger joint is a smirk followed by a scowl. No one really wants to mess with me. That's the perk of a reputation for being a hair-trigger. Everyone tiptoes around me thinking I'll snap at the slightest word.

"Nico! Get your greasy ass out of the garage and help me with these groceries!"

Everyone, that is except my mom.

"Okay, Mom!" I'm already degreasing my hands and yanking off my t-shirt. She busts my balls on the daily and has never appreciated the messes I make. Everyone else might be tiptoeing around me, but Mom has never been one of them. The woman knows the real me and would never buy the hype that follows me around.

And although it's accurate that the hype doesn't truly live up to reality, that's beside the point.

I step into the kitchen from the back door. Mom already has half of the food put away so I grab the rest and take over.

"How was your day, son?" Mom is sitting at the table with a glass of water watching me unload the goods.

I debate for a second what to say. My usual answer, 'fine,' doesn't fit today, but I'm not sure I want to open that door with her. But then I wonder if she could use something new to listen to.

"Interesting." I end up saying.

Mom sits back in her chair, her eyes now sparkling with curiosity. "Really? Tell me more."

Yeah that flung the door wide open.

"I'm not sure how to explain it."

She leans forward now, her chin resting on her palm. "I'm all ears, son. Nothing on the schedule tonight."

Of course she is. The one night I open my mouth is the one night my mom isn't running all over town. The woman works herself to the bone, then volunteers to help at a battered women's shelter. Harmony Evans is the type of woman who gives herself away constantly. She's been even busier since my dad died. I think she's escaping from her own thoughts by keeping busy. I'm doing almost the same thing out in the garage.

"If you've got nothing on the schedule, you should be relaxing for once. You never just put your feet up and chill." My back is to her while I speak, still stashing food on shelves, so I don't know how she takes my suggestion.

Silence. It becomes awkward so I turn around. I'm only half surprised that I find my mom eyeing me with suspicion.

"Spill it. This must be something big, Nico. You're avoiding." Her arms are crossed, convinced I'm hiding something from her.

Well, I am, but nothing like she must be imagining. I sigh, give up the food, and take a seat at the table. "It's not a big deal, I swear. I saw a classic while stuffing my face and it got me thinking of the next car I'm going to work on."

Lies. So many lies. But a guy can't really talk to his mom about the girl who got the best of him.

"A classic...what model?" She doesn't sound convinced. The woman knows me too well.

"'66 Mustang. A wreck but from my vantage point, it looked like it had potential."

Mom nods. Then sits quietly assessing me, head to toe. Her head tilts to the side and she sharpens her gaze on me, narrowing her eyes as she looks right through me.

"No. There's something else." She pauses and looks over me again. "A car never causes this."

"This? What do you mean, 'this'?"

She gestures to me. "Your hair is...sticky?" She leans forward and grabs a lock. "Yup, sticky. You seem lit up, somehow. Lighter. Excited maybe? I'm not sure but the little storm cloud that follows you everywhere you go is gone. It's like the sunshine is finally breaking through."

Um...whoa. If she only knew...

"Well, that's cool. Good talk, mom. Gotta get back to the garage. Garrett sent the latest design so now I've got to start making appointments."

"How is Garrett? I haven't talked to my sister in a few weeks." Mom's voice waivers a little. My aunt is another touchy topic in our house since she and Mom are so close but haven't been able to see each other for the last several years. Mom could have really used her when my dad died, but Aunt Melody has her own demons to battle.

"He doesn't ever talk about himself, Mom. I swear that guy has gotten quieter the last year or two. He won't do more than text a few words at a time."

"This whole thing with Lisa has been so hard on him. Sometimes I wonder if he's had it worse than Melody." Mom shakes her head and turns to face away from me, but I saw the stray tear make its way down her cheek.

What kind of son would I be to ignore that? I get up from my seat and move over to my mom, putting my arms around her. There's nothing I could say to make things better, so I just hold her for a minute or two.

"Alright, mister. Get back to your hobby and leave me to start dinner."

I don't have the heart to remind her I already stuffed my face. "It's not a hobby, Mom. It's a business."

"It will be a business when you don't sink the profits back into the next project. You need to keep more for a rainy day."

"That's still a business. I pay bills. I eat food. Money in, money out, payoff equals business."

"Agree to disagree. I want my boy to build up a nest egg, not rebuild fancier cars."

"One will lead to the other. Have faith in your kid." I wink as I give her one last hug then head back to the garage to make some phone calls.

But I hear my mom's voice just as the door closes.

"I never stopped, Nico."

Well...Nico's mom, Harmony, is Garrett's aunt. You may remember his moms name is Melody. Sense a theme? Lol that might come up later...

And I posted this without finishing my notes so if you're back for a reread, now this makes sense. BTW the next update is April's first day at her new school. Let me just say it's very...interesting. And much longer than these first chapters have been! Can't wait to tell you more!!

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