face and blinks a few times. He’s hot, in a beer and baseball hat kind of way. He has a heavy five o’clock shadow, the kind I used to whine hurt my skin when the guy I was with kissed me, leaving red patches on my jaw, my neck, my thighs. Now I want to feel it. I’m in the mood for it to hurt a little bit.
He takes the flashlight. “Maybe I should hold onto this.” He tucks it under one arm as he replaces the lug nuts, the beam bouncing around the dusty metal.
“I can do it.” I reach for the light, but he lifts a hand to block me.
“No, thanks. I like being able to see.” He holds my stare, our faces too close, and I’m the first one to cave.
“Suit yourself.”
He nods and resumes working. “At the restaurant,” he says, after a moment. “That was a first date, you and the charity guy?”
“How do you know he’s a charity guy?”
“That story about Africa. With the log.”
“I knew you were listening.”
“I knew you knew.”
Another look and I see that his eyes are very dark. I wonder if he remembers I had brown eyes at the restaurant. They’re pale blue now, without the contacts. I used to get a lot of compliments about my eyes. For a while I’d dreamed of being a model, making millions selling mascara.
“Anyway.” I kick a small rock under the car. “Yeah. First date. And last.”
“You didn’t go to his place, either?”
“No. Feel better?”
He smiles.
“How long did you wait?”
He shakes his head but doesn’t answer. The visits with my father mark the longest conversations I have in any given month. Already I’m meeting my monthly average with a guy I don’t even know.
“Why are you here?” I ask suddenly.
“I’m changing your tire.”
“In the middle of nowhere. Why are you out here?”
“Why are you?”
“I asked first.”
“I work here,” he concedes, nodding back the way he came. “There’s a school about fifteen minutes in. It’s an extension of Holden College. They have an agricultural program and I was just wrapping up some things. I got a bunch of texts when I was driving back, so I parked to check them. That’s why I was stopped. I didn’t notice the lights had gone out.”
I squint into the darkness, like I might be able to see something. I can’t, of course. He could be lying. There could be nothing back there. Or there could be a school, with his name on a door. Professor Something. Master Gardener.
I look at his hands. The cracked knuckles.
I look away.
He could be an escaped convict. Maybe he stole that jacket and the Rolex. He’d paid cash for the meal—maybe he’d stolen that, too. I’d prefer it. I’d prefer his alias to this real person, to his true story. I’d prefer to know I’m not the only liar.
He lowers the jack, tightens the lug nuts the rest of the way, and stands, wiping his hands on his thighs. I need to back up, but I don’t. There’s a foot of space between us.
“That should do it, Denise.”
“Thanks.”
“Any time.”
“If you turn on your lights and check both ways before entering an intersection, there won’t be another time.”
He cocks his head slightly. “What if there could be?”
I don’t say anything. I don’t want to see him a second time. I didn’t intend to see him at all. But maybe it’s a sign. Maybe it’s a giant flashing neon sign saying, here’s that chance you didn’t take. Take it.
“There can’t,” I say.
His face falls a little bit. “Right.” He bends down to collect the jack and the wrench, and retreats to his truck. He tosses them into the back, the clatter of metal on metal deafening in the quiet.
“Tonight,” I say, to clarify. “That’s it.”
He pauses at the door to his truck, his fingers already wrapped around the handle. Taking his cue, like an honest, decent man. Who changed a tire, got rejected, and dealt with it. “What?”
“Turn off the lights.”
He stares at me for a long second, a little bit incredulous, then reaches through the open pickup window and shuts off the headlights. There’s a full moon and a blanket of stars overhead, the air cooling rapidly in the dark. I’m in the shadows again. In my element.
“Come here,” I say. I remain standing at the side of my car as he approaches, his work boots crunching over the rocks and dirt. He crouches to scoop up the discarded tire and returns it to