A Soldier's Promise

Brenna blew her bangs off her forehead with an impatient breath and leaned on the hood of her seven-year-old Mazda. “I wish I were.”

Diana looked confused. “What are you waiting for?”

“A mechanic. I called Alvin’s Garage forty-five minutes ago. And as usual, Alvin’s ‘We’re on our way’ is a gross exaggeration.”

“What’s wrong with your car?”

“Won’t start.”

Diana stared at the shiny silver sedan, which Brenna kept immaculate and in good running order. “Do you know why it won’t start?”

“Do I look like a mechanic?”

“You look like a wilted redheaded sunflower. Maybe it’s time to consider that mechanic a no-show. I’ll give you a lift home.”

“I can’t leave,” Brenna said. “I’ll give the guy another few minutes. I have plans for tonight. I need my car.”

Diana set her cumbersome briefcase, probably stuffed with papers to grade, on the pavement. She and Brenna both worked at Mount Union High School; Diana taught English and Brenna taught home ec. Just about everything in Brenna’s classes was accomplished during school hours, leaving very little work to take home, which suited her just fine. She liked devoting her off-hours to her own pleasures.

“I’ll just keep you company until the mechanic arrives,” Diana said. “Both the men in my life will be occupied with football practice until at least six.”

“Don’t be silly. Go home and wait for your husband and son. Why should both of us melt out here?”

“Maybe this is your guy,” Diana said as a blue pickup truck sped into the lot. A magnetic sign on the door indicated it had come from Alvin’s. The driver jolted to a stop a few feet from Brenna’s car.

“The cavalry has definitely arrived,” Diana said. “I might as well stay until we know he can get your car started.”

“Thanks.”

“By the way, where are you going tonight?”

“The Riverview Tavern,” Brenna said. “You’re welcome to come...”

She never finished her invitation because the driver of the truck stepped out and walked over to them. Brenna did a double take. She couldn’t remember this man working at Alvin’s. He was tall with a muscular build that was obvious even under his beige mechanic’s uniform. What hair Brenna could see peeking out of a ball cap was dark and wavy. He wasn’t smiling. Not surprising in this heat.

“I hope you’re looking for me,” Brenna said.

He pulled a work order out of a breast pocket embroidered with the name Mike and Alvin’s Garage in blue letters. “I am if you’re Brenna Sullivan.”

“Yep. And what took you so...”

“This is your silver Mazda?”

Enough small talk apparently. “Yes, it is.”

He stuffed the work order back in his pocket. “You said it wouldn’t start?”

“That’s right. I hope it’s something minor and you don’t have to have it towed.”

“’Scuse me.”

She stepped aside. He sat in the driver’s seat and turned her key in the ignition. Nothing. Not even the clicks she had heard earlier.

Brenna cringed. She was thankful Diana hadn’t left yet. She might need a ride after all.

Diana spoke in Brenna’s ear. “Have you ever seen this guy before?”

“No.” Even if this man were just an Alvin’s employee, she would have remembered him. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. It’s just interesting. He could be our first new man in town in a long time. Maybe he’s single and you and he...”

Brenna frowned at her friend’s blatantly coy grin. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m not looking and you know it. And if I were, I wouldn’t be scouring Alvin’s Garage for a date.”

The man got out of the car and opened the hood. He next opened the hood on his truck and finally removed some battery cables from a box in the cargo area.

“What are you doing?” she asked him.

“Charging your battery.”

“Oh.” She watched his practiced, abbreviated movements. He didn’t waste time or effort. He appeared to know what he was doing.

Diana nudged her. “He’s good-looking, don’t you think?” she whispered.

“Stop it.” But the comment did make her study his face again.

Though he remained basically expressionless, his features demanded her attention. Serious to a fault. Yet fine lines around his eyes and mouth indicated he’d done his share of smiling, or maybe frowning. And his eyes. Now that she really looked, she found herself staring into them. Very dark, intense. And much too thoughtful for a guy who spent his time staring at spark plugs. Or did cars even have spark plugs these days? Brenna recalled reading that everything in cars was digital now.

After a few minutes, he disconnected the cables, got back in her car, fiddled around with knobs on the dashboard and started the engine. The Mazda purred like the sleek kitten it was. He got out, took the work order from his pocket again and wrote some numbers down.

“That’ll be thirty-five dollars,” he said.

“What did you do?” she asked. “I didn’t see you fix anything.”

“Nothing needed fixing.” He covered his mouth with his hand.

Brenna stared at Diana. She mouthed the words I think he’s laughing at me.

Diana shrugged. “Appears so.”

“What’s so funny—” she pointed to his pocket embroidery “—Mike?”

“Women, I guess.”

“What? That’s just demeaning....”

He readjusted the seriousness to his face. “The problem with your car was what we call a parasitic drain.”

“And what exactly would I call it?” Brenna asked.