Who Am I (A Jai Courtney Fanfic) Book 2

Chapter 106-Jai

Nick drives us out in his 4WD to meet a handful of his mates. They're all over the area and this should take a good portion of the arvo. But I get to see several beauts that aren't even posted for sale. The owners are debating on selling... but they're nervous about giving their babies away to just anyone. They want someone who'd take good care of 'em. I don't blame them—so would I.
We drive out to the bush and I have no idea where we are.  I look on my phone map and see a familiar highway but this is further south than I've ever gone.  We've been driving over an hour.  The convos have been pleasant, though.  I'm really getting to know my future father-in-law.  He absolutely is a decent bloke—much like my own dad. 
"Where are we headed again?" I ask. 
He tells me the name—Lima, like the bean. 
I nod.  "So what does this mate of yours have?" I inquire. 
"His may not be the best collection, but it's probably the largest.  I'm fairly certain he just collects, not restores.  Some of them may be beyond repair, others may just need a little work," he explains. 
I nod again.  We arrive to a small town and exit.  He drives through the city, then past it.  The more I see of Ohio, the more I realize Meg is right—farmland.  I notice two types of crops growing for the most part—corn and soya beans but they're just starting to grow.  There's nothing but farmland out here with a few sporadic houses around, though. 
Nick slows and turns off onto a worn old street—farm fields on each side.  They're just popping up out of the ground.  He turns down a dirt road and I see an old farmhouse in the distance and a large metal barn beyond that.  He pulls beside the house.  An older bloke steps out.  He's got to be at least ten years older than Nick—maybe more.  Meg's dad hugs him.  I shake his hand as Nick introduces me to him—Jimmy Mac Arthur.  He's an old customer of Nick's.  He retired but his son has taken over the business.  I find out he—along with his family—will be in attendance at the reception.  He's a decent bloke—loves classic cars.  Like Nick said, though, he's a collector only and hasn't cared about the condition—just for sentimental value. 
Jim takes us back to his garage.  It's enormous as we approach it.  It looks like he could fit an aeroplane in there now that I think about it.  He opens the large sliding door that I realize had several locks on it.  He flips some light switches on and I'm in awe of this historic collection.  I see Model Ts that've seen better days and cars all the way up to probably the 70s.  I'm just in shock.  There are old coppers' cars, ambos, fire engines in sight.  We walk a bit and there's all sorts of classic jeeps and military-like vehicles with camo and everything.  There are some classic Volkswagens—buses, bugs, and whatnot.  I notice some old trucks—work type but interesting to see them.  We progress further down the line and I even see one-horse powered buggies.  We walk past some twenties-style vehicles and I wonder if Meg would like one of those.  I see so many cars from the 50s that I'm seriously thinking about making an offer on one in the future.  There's a 67' Mercury Cougar that catches my eye and we stop for a moment to look her over.  I'm really tempted to restore this beaut but I'm not as familiar with them.  We move onto his Chevelles.  Most of 'em could use some serious work.  I notice a light yellow one that's in the best shape out of the lot.  It's defo not driving ready right now but after inspecting under the bonnet and underbody, I could probably get this baby running in a month or so—with a few parts of course.  A thought crosses my mind of Megan's ex's yellow Porsche—the banana car as Tabby playfully calls it.  This shade is significantly lighter than that one but I don't want her thinking about him when she's with me.  I rise from examining them to notice the rest need some serious work.  It's sad to see them looking so worn but he's got parts and some big projects.  I'll defo keep this guy in mind in the future. 
Nick tells him I have an interest in motorcycles, too, and he takes us over to his collection.  My jaw about drops at the assortment he has.  I'm wondering if Hollywood would be interested in making an offer for the whole lot in here.  I've heard they've restored some vehicles for films in the past.  This would defo be worth it for the pictures—especially since most of these are hard to come by.  I've never seen a collection so extensive before—not even heard about it.  There are all ages of classic motorcycles—Hondas, BMWs, Triumph Classics, Harley-Davidsons...  Some have sidecars from various times.  It's set up sporadically, not by year or brand or anything.  I see one motorcycle that seriously catches my attention.  She's a beaut.  I walk over and look her over.  She defo needs some tinkering before she'll ever run again but if I had one to choose here, she'd be it. 
I tell Jimmy that I'm defo interested in a few of his vehicles.  I'd probably have to set up my garage first and have them transported home.  He tells me to think it over—that they're not going anywhere.  I tell him he's got a bonzer collection and thank him for his time. 
"It was nice sharing my babies with someone that enjoys them—especially someone looking to make them shine again," Jim grins. 
I smile and shake his hand thanking him once more.  We wave to him as we drive off.  I look over the pics I took in there.  I've got some of the whole garage, then section by section, a few individuals of the probably twenty or so I want.  I'm defo sending a few to some mates of mine—well... after I've bought the ones I want most, though. 
"What'd you think?" Nick asks me on the drive to the next place. 
"They need some work... but I honestly haven't seen anything like that before.  I'm impressed that he has so much," I admit.  "I wouldn't mind taking a few off his hands but it'll probably be some time for that."
"Yeah.  He's definitely worth a look.  He's actually expanded the collection since I'd last seen it.  There are way more motorcycles and antiques.  He's always going to estate sales, garage sales, and auctions.  He's not good with fixing them, though.  They're all untouched for the most part," Nick explains.  "I have heard his son mention what he'd like to do with Jim's collection.  I hinted to him once about it.  He said he knew.  He's got it written into his Will that nobody can touch the vehicles or property without genuine interest in refurbishing them.  That'll hold even after he's gone."
"What does his son want to do with them?" I inquire. 
"Scrap," he divulges sadly.
"Good plan on the Will," I nod.  He's like a hero of lost relics.  I've got to find someone to take them.  I know some guys that'll at least make a dent in that treasure pile back there. 
Nick drives us to the highway and we stop at the next major city on the way back north.  This bloke's in a gated community just past the city. His property isn't as impressive as Will's but it's pretty nice.  We're greeted at the entrance by a servant of his.  This bloke's name is Leonard Davis.  He's a current customer of Nick's—also an invitee on our reception list.  He descends a massive staircase wearing a designer suit.  I'm surprised he's not more relaxed on a Sunday but perhaps he attends service like we did.  I put my casual duds on, same as Nick, since I figured we'd be getting dirty checking out some muscle cars. 
I shake Leo's hand and he takes us out.  It's a ten car garage and packed to the brim with some serious rides. 
"What are you looking to sell?" I ask him. 
They all appear to be in top condition and I'm shocked he's considering parting with any of them. 
"I have my heart set on a Lamborghini Huracan STO.  The wife insists on me selling one to make room.  She doesn't want to add on to the garage and take up more of her precious garden space," he laughs lightly. 
"Well, Diane does enjoy her garden," Nick nods. 
Leo smiles at that.  I look around at all of them since he's not particular about which one he wants to part with.  He has a tan colored Rolls-Royce.  I'm fairly certain this is an 80' Corniche.  It's nice but nothing I'm interested in.  I see a 77' Aston Martin V 8 Vantage that catches my eye.  It's a silver beaut.  He lets me check out under the bonnet and I'm not as familiar with these as others but I can tell he's had a lot of work done on it.  I've heard these have electrical and starter troubles but it appears to be a hodgepodge of miscellaneous parts in here.  I thank him kindly and move on.  I bypass several that don't hold my interest whatsoever but do stop at his grass green 69' Ford Mustang.  She is a thing of beauty.  I open up the bonnet and I'm disappointed.  She looks just as bad as the other.  I close it up and kindly examine the rest... but what's most important is missing.  I glance at his Dodge Charger but move onto his black Chevelle—which is the only reason we're here.  She's incredible—pristine even.  I hate to spoil it but have to know.  I open the bonnet and I'm disgusted.  I ask Leo a few questions about the care of his engine. 
"I have my mechanic take care of all that," he says dismissively and I realize he really knows nothing about them.  Either his mechanic doesn't know what he's doing... or the more likely option is he only cares about the exterior, not the value of having original parts. 
I make a little more polite conversation with him and I tell him I'll get back to him.  Nick leads us out thanking him for his time.  As he drives down the bitumen, Nick addresses me.
"Yeah, I figured his had some issues. They look good on the outside but he's not keen on showing off what's underneath the hood. He had to if he wanted to sell them. I asked around and he heard about it. He actually was putting on a facade. He's not looking to purchase anything new, his company is having financial difficulties—of which I was aware. I just hadn't realized how much," he confides.
I nod. They looked good, but upon closer inspection they're more work to replace the false parts than the other bloke's.
Nick drives us to the last place. We don't even head out on the highway. This place isn't even in the bush, it's in whoop whoop. He drives on an interstate but still we're heading through small rural cities with stops—farmland between.  We enter a nice little town. It's at an intersection of the river and it's decent-looking here. He follows the river and pulls into an upper-middle class home's driveway just off the river. It's got a decent looking garden with a bit of woods in back. We step out of his 4WD and Nick knocks on the door. An older man opens the door with a smile.  Nick greets him with a hug as well, then introduces me.  His name is Dean Reynolds.  From the grease stains on his white t-shirt and hands it's obvious he's clearly been working on a car.  He lets us both in his home.  The interior is older—more like my parents' style.  It's not the extravagance of the last bloke's.  He takes us through the house to the veranda out back.  I see a modest garage past the garden with the door open.  I realize the shiny red beaut inside is why we're here.  He leads us inside. She's pristine. She's a wild cherry red with a white convertible top. The interior is white and black.
"So, she's a 69' Chevy Chevelle SS convertible. I just gave her a tuneup so she's ready for the road," Dean explains. "I'd love to pass her onto someone in the family but she's not my daughter's style and her son has already wrecked two cars. I just can't in good conscience give her to someone who won't cherish her. I'm almost certain he didn't learn his lesson from totaling the first two."
"That's a shame," I say surprised.
"Eh, these young-ins are spoiled," he waves dismissively. "I hear you own two."
"Yeah," I nod.
We talk a bit about mine—how I travel for work with homes in LA and Sydney. I explain that Meg wants to be near her parents as often as possible. He tells me a bit about his. We look under the bonnet and it appears as though he took better care of her than I have my own. He knows everything about her and I'm shocked by the condition she's in.
"She was always a secondary car for me. Only drove her around on special occasions," he admits. "I bought her new, though, so the mileage is accurate."
I take a look at the interior. It's incredible. I even look underneath the body and I've never seen one look so immaculate. I'm in love... nowhere near Meg, though. He offers to let me test drive her and I take that offer. Nick and I drive down the street and around the neighborhood. I'm in awe of this beaut. We head back to Dean's place. He's waiting with a smile on his face.
"How much you want for her?" I ask him stepping out.
He chuckles lightly and glances at Nick. We head inside to his kitchen. He washes his hands and grabs us each a glass of lemonade. We sit down at his kitchen table to talk business. I know what a vehicle in this condition is worth so I don't offer him any less than what it'd be appraised as. I actually wasn't expecting to find anything like this but it's a once in a lifetime opportunity. I write him a check and he hands me the keys. I shake his hand and he tells me he'll meet me at the title agency in town tomorrow. I figure I can make it. I add the car to my insurance and it's done. The three of us go out for sangers afterward since it's about time for tea. Nick takes Dean back home and I get some take away from the same place for Meg—her father's recommended favorite from here. I follow my phone's guidance home. I pull in our driveway and see her blue 4WD parked outside. I open the manual garage and pull my new baby in. I step out and walk through the side door in search of my girl. I set her sanger down on the dining table and notice she moved the tarp. I'll have to replace it before the installers show up tomorrow but I notice a few supplies on the table. There are parts of mats and a guillotine. I step into the lounge room but she's not in here. I notice the ladder has been moved. I see she's been busy. My birthday presents are up on the wall. I can't help but laugh at them. Yeah, those are bonzer. I love 'em. I search the house for her but I should've known. I find her in her downstairs studio covered in white muck. I wrap my arms around her. I've missed her.
"I brought you tea, love," I whisper.
"Thanks," she replies gently.
"That looks incredible," I tell her.
"I think so, too," she says and I can hear the smile in her voice.
She carves and sands the last little bit before she says she's done. She rises and shakes the powder off of her clothes. It's in her hair and all over her face, though.
"Maybe you should shower, love," I recommend.
"Maybe," she whispers.
I take her upstairs and grab some of my trackie daks and a t-shirt. I insist she at least rinse off before she eats. She agrees. I close the door and sigh. I've missed her. It looks like she's been busy today. 
I wait around in the lounge room staring at my present.  I observe how she posed us.  It looks incredible—professional.  It reminds me of her blue series but this one is so different.  She's happy.  I can see it.  Being with me—even at my worst makes her laugh.  I honestly don't know why I picked this.  I just kind of didn't want her to use it and sell it in a gallery—having to explain—but I like this.  It's surprisingly good and defo us.  I've never felt like this before with anyone.  What we have is so different from anything else I've experienced.  This is defo love... what God intended, I think.  It's like He made her for me. 
I hear her walking down the hallway and I rise to meet her in the kitchen. 
"Oh, you got one of my favorites?" she asks excitedly. 
"Yeah," I nod checking her out in my duds. She looks incredible.
She smiles and opens the bag telling me I did good.  I explain it was all her dad's doing.  She thanks me nonetheless and enjoys her meal.  She tells me about her day and I tell her about mine. 
"Mr Davis actually said that his wife didn't want him to extend the garage?" she asks confused. 
"I think it was an excuse but yeah," I nod. 
She nods as well.  "She did always like her garden," she comments.  "You know... I know you like cars.  If you'd want to build a big garage for them, I wouldn't mind," she mentions. 
I grin at that and bite my lip.  Yeah, she's perfect for me. 
"I thought you were going to three?" she questions. 
"Right," I nod shaking out of my reverie.  I've only explained the first two.  "So, we went to Dean Reynolds' place," I mention. 
"Oh?  His house is nice—right on the river.  He's got a pretty red convertible..." she says trailing off. 
I hold up the keys for her. 
"Now we have a pretty red convertible," I grin. 
"Are you serious?" she questions surprised. 
I bite my lip and nod. 
"That one was always my favorite," she smiles. 
"And now it's ours, love," I tell her but it's my favorite, too. 
"You've got to get another.  That car is too nice for daily use.  I wouldn't even wear blue jeans in there.  I'd be afraid I'd stain the interior by sitting in it," she says worriedly. 
"Alright, love.  I'll get something for everyday," I agree grinning. 
"What are you considering, then?" she questions. 
"I don't know," I admit with a shrug.  "I'll have to think about it."
"Maybe you should contemplate something for the winter.  After that, you can get whatever you want," she suggests. 
I nod.  Maybe I should.  "We can go looking tomorrow... maybe after the install or towards the end," I mention. 
"Yeah," she nods.  "Izaak was going to do some electrical work, then help me to make a light."
I grin at her and push a stray cluster of hair back.  I'm so in love with her.  Thirteen days.