Arranged Love: Cristina's Story

Arranged Love: Cristina's Story - Chp 6

The garage becomes extremely busy during the early summer months thanks to the weather and since in August through September all the car shows around here regularly happen so everyone brings in their cars for some TLC and new paint before all the shows. The 6 of us who worked at the garage also have cars that we show in the shows so it wasn’t really surprising when Cris came in a few weeks ago with a 1964 1/2 Convertible Ford Mustang—the first Mustang created. It needed some serious work and where she got it is a mystery but she was like a kid on Christmas who had gotten the ultimate present.

We were working on the engine of her newest project when someone came into the garage. Alastar who was working closer to the front greeted the customer. From the looks Alastar occasionally threw towards his sister the job was for paint work. Cris was a talented painter not only in custom work but in restoration and it was due to her restoration abilities that we were swamped this time every year. Soon Alastar was motioning Cris over.

“Cris your brother wants you.” I told her with a nod in Alastar’s direction. She was busy working on the engine that she hadn’t seen him motioning for her.

“For goodness sake can’t a girl get any work done around here?” She sighed while wiping grease off her hands. She has been going back and forth all day with customers who were coming in for paint work.  

“Not for you hun.” I said with a smirk in her direction.

“Thanks sweetheart. Why don’t you continue where I left off on the engine?” She asked with a smile.

“Wow! You actually trust me with your precious baby?” I asked with a surprised look.

“Nope, which is why the twins are with my madre however I trust you enough to finish the work on the engine while I go book yet another job.” She gave me a wink before heading over to where her brother was standing with the new client.

I shook my head and started back to work on the engine. Despite all her teasing I was one of only two who she trusted to work on any of her projects when she was with a client the other was Alastar and we were the only two who she even allowed to work on one of her projects without her around. About an hour later Cristina returned with a Twizzler hanging from her mouth and a few more in her hand.

“How’s it going?” She asked around the Twizzler.

“I just finished up the engine. Did you get the job?” I asked while nodding towards her hand full of Twizzler in a silent request for one.

“Of course I got the job. It’s a simple repaint won’t take long to finish unlike with this thing.” She said lightly tapping the edge of the car.

As she handed me a Twizzler I could see the list of everything that needed to be done on this car run through her head. With that we continued the work on her mustang since there was maybe an hour left before close and neither one of us had any cars on the docket for today. Soon we were leaving the garage and headed off towards her parents house to pick up the twins before heading home for a nice quiet and relaxing evening.

The following morning I woke up to an empty bed. Normally I was up before Cris and the twins however this morning that didn’t seem to be the case. I reach over and found Cris’s side of the bed cold suggesting that she has been up for a while now which was odd since Cris was anything but a morning person. Getting up I went to check in on the twins and found Jaime’s crib empty while Rosalia slept peacefully in hers. With a frown I headed quietly out of the room and made my way towards the living room. Rounding the corner I found a very tired looking Cristina who held a sleeping Jaime who had his head snuggled into his madre’s neck. A blanket covered them both as Cris rocked slowly back and forth in the old glider rocking chair her mom gave us after we brought the twins home. According to Cris it was the same one that her dad had given to her mom when they moved in and was the one she had rocked all her children on. Now it was rocking another generation to sleep.