All the Little Pieces. Jilliane Hoffman

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      ‘I can wet sand those,’ he answered with a smile. ‘I’ll try compound first. That might work.’

      ‘Well, that’s better than what I was thinking.’

      ‘Problem is your grille. You need a new one.’

      ‘Oh.’ Her face fell.

      ‘Oh man – you are far too pretty to have such a glum kisser. Listen, it must be your lucky day, ’cause I can probably get that part from a buddy without a hassle. Unless you want it new, because that might take a couple of days.’

      ‘No, no, it doesn’t have to be new, as long as it looks the same.’

      ‘It’ll look like you never hit …?’ he said, his voice rising. He was obviously waiting for her to fill in the blank.

      ‘A used part is fine,’ she replied.

      He nodded. ‘You’re paying cash, right? You don’t want to put it through insurance? That’s what you said on the phone.’

      ‘No. My rates will, you know … they’ll go up. I just want it fixed as soon as possible.’

      There was a brief silence. He rubbed his nose with a greasy finger, grinned and said, ‘Oh, I get it.’

      She shifted uncomfortably. ‘What?’

      ‘You don’t want the husband to know.’ He was looking at her wedding ring.

      ‘You got me.’

      ‘I’ve heard that before. But it’s a shame.’

      ‘What’s that?’

      ‘You’re married.’

      ‘Thanks, Sal. But you were nowhere to be found seven years ago.’

      He laughed. ‘I could fix your car for free no matter how many times you banged it up. And I’m very forgiving. Well, if you ever get rid of the husband, look me up. By the way, it’s Lou, not Sal,’ he said, pointing up at the sign above the garage bay that said: Lou’s Automotive Repair. Fast. Friendly. Dependable. ‘Sal’s my brother. He works here, too. And he lives with me. His shirt was the first one I found in the dryer this morning. Don’t mix us up if you come looking to take me up on that offer, Mrs …?’

      ‘Saunders.’

      ‘But if you’re coming in to complain, then ask for Sal,’ he added with a robust laugh.

      Faith looked around the garage. There was another car on a lift and a dozen smashed-up vehicles in the yard. ‘Can you do it today, you think, Lou? And the AC, too?’

      ‘Today? You crazy?’

      She bit her lip. She must have looked as desperate as she felt, because he added, ‘That husband of yours must be a real unsympathetic character. Accidents happen.’

      She nodded. ‘I can pay you … extra?’

      He studied her for a moment before he nodded. ‘It’s those blue eyes of yours; they’d get me to agree to anything. If you can throw an extra two-fifty my way, I’ll drop everything I’m doing just for you. I gotta see if Jimmy has that grille, so I may need you to come back later in the week to finish up. I can’t make no promises now.’

      ‘As long as you can get the dents taken care of today, I’d be really, really grateful.’

      ‘So what’d you hit anyways?’ Lou was down on the ground, examining the fender, his hands feeling up underneath it.

      Her heart began to race. There was nothing there.

      He stood back up and wiped his hands on his blue work pants. He stared at her, waiting for a response.

      ‘A deer,’ she said softly.

      He nodded. ‘Ouch. Not around here …?’

      ‘No. I was up north, at my sister’s, coming down 441. But it didn’t die. It … ran off,’ she answered softly.

      ‘Well, don’t worry about it none,’ Lou said as he walked her back into the office. ‘Deer can fuck up a car; you’re lucky this one didn’t do much damage. She probably wasn’t very big. And ya know,’ he added as Faith stared out the window, blinking back tears, ‘you couldn’t’ve hurt her too bad or she wouldn’t’ve gone and run off on ya, now, would she?’

       12

      The aroma of chocolate cake baking filled the air outside of Sweet Sisters. Faith could smell it the second she opened the taxi door. It was a scent that normally triggered fond memories of warm kitchens and holidays and baking with Grandma Milly. Today, though, she felt undeserving of such comforting nostalgias. The normalcy of the scent, of smelling it here outside her beloved bakery where she spent a good chunk of every day, made her feel like she had back at the house – anxious and guilty.

      She paid the driver and slipped in through the back door, passing the kitchen and heading straight for her office. She could tell from the chatter and bustle that the line was long and the tables were filled, which was good – people were willing to dodge rain and blustery wind for a crème brûlée cupcake and a caramel apple latte. Financially October was going to be a good month, even with Octavius trying his damnedest to drive customers away.

      The back office was empty. On Vivian’s desk was a half-empty, cold cup of coffee and her makeup bag, but her purse was missing, which meant she was out of the office, but she hadn’t gone far. Vivian Vardakalis and Faith had been the best of friends since they were six. They’d stayed BFFs through high school, then were sorority sisters at UF, and now, for the past three years, business partners in Sweet Sisters. Faith knew Viv about as well as she knew her sister and for almost as long – the girl couldn’t go too long without lipstick and concealer. She was probably grabbing lunch, running errands, or at the bank. Faith had called her yesterday on her way up to Charity’s to tell her that she wouldn’t be in till late today, if at all, but she hadn’t spoken with her this morning. Though neither of them actually did the baking any more, one of them was physically present at the cupcakery every day. ‘It may take a village to raise a child,’ Vivian liked to joke, ‘but it only takes one employee with his hand in the till to bring down a cash-based business.’ She was an accountant by trade. ‘If the mice know the cat’s away, they play, play, play. And they don’t give a shit about over-frosting your three-dollar-and-fifty-cent cupcake so that you make even less profit on a perishable product with a limited shelf-life.’

      Vivian knew all about the drama parade that seemed to follow Charity’s life around. At different points over the years the three of them had been BFFs, but that was hard to maintain. As Faith’s mom had warned a long time ago, friendships in pairs worked fine, but odd numbers meant there was an odd man out. Through high school it was pretty much Vivian & Faith and ‘we could ask Charity to come, too!’ After college, when Vivian had gotten wrapped up with her husband, Gus, and following his life around, Faith and Charity had reconnected. Then four years ago, Nick had made Charity move from Miami to Sebring – or as Jarrod called it, ‘Bumfuck’ – СКАЧАТЬ