A Father's Name

Tyler Martinez didn’t look at the judge; instead he glanced back at the spectators. Mellie was there, though she should have been home in bed. Her face was drawn and pale. She wore a white scarf that he’d brought home as a gift from his trip to Cannes a few months ago.

He wasn’t sure why he’d noticed that, but he did. When he’d made that trip, he never realized how his life was about to change. Only a few months had gone by, but it felt like a lifetime.

The only constant in life was change.

He wasn’t sure where he’d read that, or why he’d thought of it other than the truth of the statement was staring him in the face. Maybe for some people change was a good thing, but not for Tyler—and certainly not these kinds of changes.

Jason was sitting next to Mellie, anguish etched on his face. Tyler smiled in a useless attempt to reassure his best friend. He wanted Jason to believe that everything would be all right.

Mellie took Jason’s hand and held it. Both Tyler and Jason knew that nothing would be all right again.

Tyler wished there was more he could do, but there wasn’t.

There wasn’t anything more anyone could do.

So this gesture would have to be enough.

“I don’t contest the charges, Your Honor.”

Tyler Martinez listened as the judge sentenced him. He watched his friends as he was led from the courtroom, knowing that when he got out of jail in six months there was a very good chance that Mellie wouldn’t be waiting with Jason.

CHAPTER ONE

GARY JOHNSON’S PHONE number flashed as a missed call on Angelina Tucker’s cellphone and she tried to tamp down her annoyance.

Tucker didn’t date often, but when she did, she practiced a catch-and-release program. Unfortunately, Gary Johnson didn’t want to be released and had been calling for days asking for another date.

She’d tried being polite, then tried to joke and pretend she was one of the guys with her let’s-be-buddies pitch. Neither worked. Gary obviously wasn’t getting her not-so subtle hints. She’d have to try something more direct.

The man was so dense it was going to have to be something big. Something like a swift kick or else a restraining order.

Gary’s number on her caller ID had left a sour taste to what was normally her happy Monday mood. She stomped into the garage, not wanting to think about returning that phone call.

“Hey, Lou,” she called by way of a greeting as she made a beeline for the coffee machine.

“What’s on the schedule today?” Lou asked.

“I’ve got to come up with some brilliant idea for the Paradisi bike.” Tucker was building a name for her custom paint jobs on motorcycles and an occasional car or truck. Thanks to the popularity of shows like American Chopper and Pimp My Ride, her air-brushed murals, pictures and plain old pinstriping had taken more and more of her time away from the basic mechanic work.

She took a long sip of her coffee, knowing she needed caffeine in her system before she could come anywhere close to inspired.

She thought about the black custom bike that sat in her paint room as she appreciated a second sip. “Lou, you and the other guys start in on the appointments, okay? I’m going to head back to my office for an hour or so. I have some invoices to get out.”

The only good thing about paperwork was that she hated it so much her mind frequently wandered and got creative to avoid doing it.

“Is your dad coming in today?” Lou asked.

“I’m sure he’ll show up eventually.” She offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile to Lou, but she couldn’t be sure. She wasn’t good at faking it—never had been. She needed to tell the guys the truth soon.

Soon, but not today.

“’Kay, Tuck,” the older man said.

“Way to go, Tuck,” she muttered to herself as she stomped to her office. She had to tell the guys sometime, but not until her dad was ready. And to date, George Tucker wasn’t ready and she wasn’t going to rush him. Lou knew the score without explanation and had pretty much taken over running the floor of the garage without being asked. And she’d taken over most of the hated paperwork. If her dad really did retire, she’d be doing it forever.

That was not the thought she wanted to start her day with, much less a week with.

She needed to speak to her dad about giving Lou a raise. Just one more thing on her to-do list. A list that no matter how hard she worked never seemed to get any shorter.

She slammed open her office door, her Monday mood really shot now, between Gary Johnson and Lou’s innocent question about her father.

“Well, it’s a hell of a thing when a man can’t rely on his daughter’s totally deluded happy Monday mood.” Her father was sitting in a chair, his own cup of coffee in hand.

“What are you doing here, Pops?”

Her father looked so much better than he had a few months ago. Thanks to her very vigilant eye on his diet, he’d lost a few pounds, which the doctors said would help with his heart problems.

“Enjoying the view.” He pointed at the bird feeder she’d mounted in the overgrown mulberry tree outside the window. “I never noticed the feeder before.”

“I put it up years ago.”

“I figured. It’s got a weathered sort of look to it. Guess there are a lot of things I haven’t noticed before. Sorry for that, kiddo.”

“You noticed plenty, Pops.”

“No. I missed some very big things, and even things I did notice—well, some I plain old ignored. Like the fact you were a girl. It was you, me and the guys at the shop. I treated you like one of them. I never pushed you to do girly things. If you’d had a mom, she’d have made sure you didn’t spend all your time around men and car repairs.”

Since her father had been sick, he’d had days of uncharacteristic nostalgia and occasionally, bouts of regret. Tucker wasn’t sure what to do when he expressed such emotion, other than try to reassure him. “Pops, if I really wanted to do girly things, don’t you think I would have done them? I mean, honestly, in my whole life, has anyone ever forced me to do something I didn’t want to do, or managed to talk me out of something I did?”

“No. But the point is, I never gave you a chance to explore what you wanted. I kept you close and here you are in your thirties and still working at the garage. Still living in the same house.”

Her father had bought a nice double-wide trailer and set it up next to the garage, leaving the house across the street, where she’d grown up, for her and her son, Bart. “You could have stayed there and I could have gotten my own place.”

“Not my point and you know it,” he scolded. “I didn’t want to stay there—but maybe you shouldn’t have wanted to stay there either.”

“Are you saying you want me to move?”

“Are you being deliberately obtuse, Angelina?” her normally affable father lashed out. “I don’t want you to move and you know that I always wanted you to work at the shop with me. But I’m wondering now if I was selfish. Maybe all men reach an age where all they can do is look back and second guess their past decisions.”

“Pops, is something wrong? Are you feeling short of breath, or having chest pains?” It was so hard to think of her once unstoppable father as ill and she hated it. She wanted him well again and back to his old self.

“No. I’m fine now, but I guess being sick leaves a man with a lot of time to think. I’m pushing seventy, and I won’t be here forever. I’m worried about you.”

Last Christmas the doctors had found blockage in her father’s arteries and put a stent in. He’d come back to work, but not full-time. He’d wanted to, but she’d put her foot down. The doctor had told her that her father needed a lighter schedule, less stress and a better diet. She’d made it a point on trying to see he had all three, but she obviously hadn’t done a good enough job if he was worried about her. “I’m fine, Pops. You have to know that I love my life.”

“Yeah, but your life has always centered around the job, me and Bart. I’m here to tell you that I’m stepping back from the day-to-day operations of Tucker’s Garage. Actually, that’s a cop-out. I’m not only stepping back, I’ve decided that I’m retiring. Officially. I’m going to leave the business, along with the worries, in your capable hands. And Bart is going away to college in the fall. I guess, I’m concerned about where that’s going to leave you.”

Tucker looked at her father. Finding out her father was mortal shouldn’t have come as a shock, but he’d always been so healthy, so much larger than life. His illness had scared her. He looked better now, but she couldn’t help but worry. Having him retire from the business and take it easy would ease those worries a bit.