Tuesday 3:44 AM
Joy pulled over on the first side street we came to once we had driven comfortably away from the scene. She switched off the ignition and stared out the windshield for a second.
"You with me?" I asked.
She paused a moment longer, then smiled.
"Damn, Nick, yes, just letting it sink in a second. It feels stranger than I thought it would. I don't know. I feel, well, free?"
Joy leaned over and held my head close as she spoke softly.
"Switch places; you're driving."
"Me?"
"Yeah."
"Where are we going? Don't we need to get this thing back to the shop? Sleep a little before tomorrow?"
Joy cocked her head to one side.
"No, Nick, we can sleep anytime. Relax a second, would you? We're going back to the shop. Now go!" She demanded.
I did what she asked. I had no idea what she had up her sleeve, but I wasn't going to miss out on driving a DB5, not one owned by Neil Peart.
We both got out simultaneously and high-fived as we passed in front of the still shining headlights. I paused only a moment to pull some of the Hydrangea debris from the radiator scoop, then slid into the right side of the car. The door closed with a remarkably solid thump. The keys Joy left dangled in the ignition to the left of the steering wheel. The steering wheel was a beautifully aged wood, a triple-spoked wheel that sat handsomely between myself and the over-gauged dash. The leather was cool and slick. I adjusted the rearview just as Joy closed her door with a heavy thump, leaned over, and kissed me again. I felt I could certainly get used to that. I took the wheel in one hand, feeling the cool steel rivets binding the wood rings, and started it up. The inline-six rumbled to life again, letting us know it was ready for anything without sounding overanxious and ungentlemanly. I put it into gear with my left hand, and off we went.
"I'll bet you do feel free," I said.
"You put a hell of a lot of work into all this, and I can say it now, I was worried. I've never done anything remotely close to this. It just seemed like a fantasy."
"Nope," she grinned, "definitely not fantasy. Too much damn work for that," she said, pushing aside her seatbelt, leaning hard into me, distractingly so.
I could smell her sweet perfume, still barely lingering from the night. I glanced quickly at her; she was close, our eyes met, and I missed third gear and had to double clutch. The Peart forgave thankfully, but Joy knew and smiled and kissed my neck softly, then my ear. It tickled but in the best way.
"Look, you've got to stop that," I groaned.
"I'm nervous enough as it is, and you and all your," I glanced over again, "self. You're just very distracting." I snickered.
Joy slinked back into her seat and slipped her seatbelt back over her shoulder. She tilted the visor down to see the mirror and tussled her hair a second, then pulled her lipstick from her tiny purse and carefully put it on. And damnit, that was just as distracting. I focused on the sparse traffic ahead of us. Changing lanes at my pleasure and speeding a little faster than I needed to.
"Hang a left on West Paces Ferry," she said softly and took my arm.
It was a miracle; I made the green light at Peachtree and West Paces Ferry and gave the Peart the gas. All three SU carburetors opened in perfect unison and gave me the punch I needed to take the corner, accelerating and coming out with a quick shift to fourth. James Bond could have done no better himself. We jostled over one of the ubiquitous potholes on the Atlanta surface streets. We were cruising on our way back towards the freeway.
"Forty-one or seventy-five?" I asked as we rocketed by the Governor's mansion, doing well over the speed limit.
Joy giggled a little.
"The quickest way I can get you home, Nick."
My eyes left the road for a second to glance at her. She was leaning back in her seat, relaxed, her head rolled to the right, and she was staring pensively at me, almost love-sick, but there was no way that was it. It was something else. With her, it was always something else.
"Seventy-Five," I said, slowing to make a right onto the freeway ramp.
Damn, that was a fun car to drive! One gear down, then two back up, and we were cruising a comfortable eighty miles an hour. The Peart settled into a pleasant hum.
"How about this shit, Joy! A week or so ago, I was down and out and had no hope. Now I'm mad, bad, and dangerous to know, and I'm driving Neal Peart's DB5. Neal freakin' Peart Joy!
She was all smiles as she patted my shoulder.
"A modern-day warrior, mean mean stride,
Today's Tom Sawyer, mean mean pride," she sang softly, nodding to the rhythm in her head.
"Though his mind is not for rent," I continued,
"Don't put him down as arrogant.
His reserve a quiet defense,
Riding out the day's events,
The River."
We sang the whole tune motoring up the familiar freeway; Joy was always full of surprises. Only if she could let herself go more often. I was working on making that happen, and she was, too, both for different reasons. Joy had a rough go of it for a while, and damned if she hadn't made the absolute best of what she had to work with. Repossessing cars for a living? What a joke. It was off the star charts beneath her. As I drove the elegant English touring car up the freeway, I took her hand and held it, pulling her arm up more than once to hiss her knuckles and fingertips. Joy was really there with me.
Tuesday 4:06 AM
We turned off the freeway and onto our surface streets. The Peart rumbled down the narrow road in the darkness. After a few more moments, we were home at the warehouse. I shut the engine off and sat with her a moment, listening to the ticking of the exhaust manifold as it began releasing heat into the cooler night air.
"You know how to get to the top?" She asked, suddenly breaking the silence.
"The top?"
"Yeah, the roof?"
"Oh, the steps. Yes, I remember."
"Go, boy! She said, slapping my arm, "I'll meet you up there!"
Joy quickly got out and stretched. I came around to close her door, and she took my hand and led me inside.
"I'll just be a minute, have to get a couple of things."
I climbed the steps and opened the noisy hatch door to the roof.
The air was cool and much drier than even the week before. There was a slight breeze, a cool breeze that was a welcome change from the stifling humidity known in the deep South. The breeze happened about the same time every year, and to me, it always meant change, like it or not, was coming.
I looked at her telescope but didn't touch it for fear of knocking something out of alignment. It was covered anyway. I stood there and looked off the rooftop, where I could just make out her crafted sun at the far end of the lot near the railroad tracks. I shook my head in fascination. She had more layers than I would probably ever uncover, but I sure as hell was going to try.
In a few more moments, she joined me. She was carrying a bottle of champagne, had a quilt thrown over her shoulder, and a pillow tucked under her arm. I took the quilt and pillow and spread the quilt out near the telescope. Joy sat, legs folded, and began twisting the corkscrew she had brought into the bottle.
"Want me to take care of that?" I offered.
She cocked her head sideways and scrunched her face.
"Hell no, I know what I'm doing," she said, continuing to crank down on the bottle.
"Joy, if we were coming here all along, why didn't you just let me follow you in the Jeep? I mean, it would have been just as easy."
"Because I wanted to ride with you, Nick, this is it. This is what we were working for, and I wanted you with me the whole way, okay? We can pick up the Jeep tomorrow. It's no big deal. I wanted us together for this."
We just sat and stared at each other for a few moments. She stopped fiddling with the bottle of champagne. I was waiting for her to say something, but she just kept looking at me and smiling, then finally,
"Nick, I don't really know how any of this happened. Really it's all been a blur. It just fell into my lap," she paused.
"Kind of like you did."
She leaned over and kissed my cheek, then scooted herself against me. I put my arm across her, gripping her folded thigh and holding her in place. She passed me the bottle, and I did one of the finest uncorking jobs I have ever done. Hardly any spill at all! I let her take the first drink, then she passed me the bottle. It was cold and ticklish, but I drank as much as possible and then passed it back to her.
"I know none of this would have worked out if you weren't here," she said softly, sincerely, then took another long drink of the champagne, passing the bottle back quickly when she had too much. She began to laugh and had to stop herself. Finally, she managed to swallow, then fell back, resting her head on the pillow. When she stopped giggling, she sat back up and took my face in her hands to look at me.
"I need you to do one last thing for me, Nick," she said as seriously as she could muster.
"Sure, name it Joy," I agreed.
"You will have to trust me on this one, and it's going to sound strange, but I promise you it's for real."
"Joy, nothing coming out of your mouth after this week sounds strange."
"I took the liberty of getting you something, something you want and need, and I put your Landcruiser in on trade," she said and winced, waiting for my explosion.
I was stunned, sure, but not angry. I still didn't have any real idea what she was talking about. The sky was ever so slowly turning from nearly black to the slightest of blue, and all but the brightest of stars had begun to fade from sight. I tipped the bottle up again, determined to finish it this time.
"Okay, but they are expecting you by Friday to make the swap in Brunswick."
I choked a little and put the near-empty bottle down.
"Brunswick? This sounds fishy. Holy shit, Joy, now I'm a little concerned. You want to send me back to your old stomping grounds to trade my Cruiser? I'm a little apprehensive here."
"Don't be Nick," she whispered, kissing me softly.
She kept on explaining, but she was slurring her words. It wasn't from the drinking earlier in the evening either, nor the champagne. She was tired, every bit as tired as I was. I laid her back against the pillow, removed my jacket, placed it over her, then lay beside her, taking her slender hand in mine.
We watched the last of the fading stars disappear into the pre-dawn sky. When I looked at Joy, she was already asleep. I lifted her gently from the quilt and took her to bed. Then after securing the car inside and locking everything down, I checked on her. She was sound asleep and breathing heavy. I wanted to crawl into the bed next to her, but it just did not feel right for some reason. She had done it, pretty much done it all without me. I was proud of her, happy for her, and confused as hell as to any future with her. I brushed her beautiful brown hair back, kissed her forehead, and then retired to the familiar futon.