The Best of Me - Nicholas Sparks [53]
Dawson reached for the faded bandanna folded neatly on the workbench. “This is what he wanted me to have,” he said.
“You sure?” Amanda squinted at the square of red cloth. “It’s not much.”
“It’s the first time I’ve ever noticed a clean one around here, so it has to be for me.” He grinned. “But yeah, I’m sure. To me, this is Tuck. I don’t think I ever saw him without one. Always the same color, of course.”
“Of course,” she agreed. “We’re talking about Tuck, right? Mr. Constant-in-All-Things?”
Dawson tucked the bandanna into his back pocket. “It’s not such a bad thing. Change isn’t always for the best.”
The words seemed to hang in the air, and Amanda didn’t reply. Instead, when he leaned against the Stingray, it triggered something in her memory, and Amanda took a step toward him. “I forgot to ask Tanner what to do with the car.”
“I was thinking that I might as well finish it. Then Tanner can just call the owner to pick it up.”
“Really?”
“As far as I can tell, all the parts are here,” he said, “and I’m pretty sure Tuck would have wanted me to finish it. Besides, you’re going to dinner with your mom, so it’s not like I have anything else to do tonight.”
“How long will it take?” Amanda scanned the boxes of spare parts.
“I don’t know. A few hours, maybe?”
She turned her attention to the car, walking its length before facing him again. “Okay,” she said. “Do you need help?”
Dawson gave a wry smile. “Did you learn how to fix engines since I saw you last?”
“No.”
“I can take care of it after you leave,” he said. “No big deal.” Turning around, he gestured toward the house. “We can go back inside if you’d rather. It’s pretty hot out here.”
“I don’t want you to have to work late,” she said, and like an old habit rediscovered, she moved to the spot that had once been hers. She pushed a rusty tire iron out of the way and lifted herself onto the workbench before making herself comfortable. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow. And besides, I always liked watching you work.”
He thought he heard something akin to a promise in that, and it struck him that the years seemed to be looping back on themselves, allowing him to revisit the time and place where he’d been happiest. Turning away, he reminded himself that Amanda was married. The last thing she needed was the kind of complication that comes from trying to rewrite the past. He drew a slow, deliberate breath and reached for a box on the other end of the workbench.
“You’re going to get bored. This will take a while,” he said, trying to mask his thoughts.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m used to it.”
“Being bored?”
She tucked her legs up. “I used to sit here for hours waiting for you to finish so we could finally go and do something fun.”
“You should have said something.”
“When I couldn’t take it anymore, I would. But I knew that if I pulled you away too often, Tuck wouldn’t have let me come around anymore. That’s also why I didn’t keep you talking the whole time.”
Her face was partly in shadow, her voice a seductive call. Too many memories, with her sitting there the way she used to, talking like this. He lifted the carburetor from the box, inspecting it. It was refurbished but obviously done well, and he set it aside before skimming the work order.
He moved to the front of the car, popped the hood, and peered in. When he heard her clear her throat, he peeked at her.
“Well, considering Tuck’s not around,” she said, “I suppose we can talk all we want now, even if you are working.”
“Okay.” He stood straighter and stepped toward the workbench. “What do you want to talk about?”
She thought about it. “Okay, how about this? What do you remember most about the first summer we were together?”
He reached for a set of wrenches, considering the question. “I remember wondering why on earth you wanted to spend time with me.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. I had nothing and you had everything. You could have dated anyone. And though we tried to lie low, I knew even then that it would