You Drive Me Crazy novel · Chapter 7 of 24

Chapter 7: His Hands

I was at the bench at six the next morning, sore in places that had no business remembering.

Cade came in at seven with two coffees and set one beside my elbow.

"You said one night," he said.

"I did."

"I'm only bringing coffee."

"You're bringing coffee with a look."

"I don't have a look."

"You have a look like a man who thinks he won something."

He leaned a hip on the bench and the look got worse.

"I'd say we both did."

I took the coffee, because I am not stupid, and burned my tongue on it, because I am.

"Where's the drawing?" he asked.

"In the truck."

"Can I see it again?"

"No."

"Mara."

"It's a kid's drawing, Cade. He has forty of them."

"I'd like to see all forty."

"Then ask him," I said. "He'll sell you one for a dollar."

His jaw tightened, then relaxed.

"I will," he said.

At eight the old pickup rolled in and Eli bounced out of it with a cardboard popcorn bucket and a sticker on his shirt that said STAFF.

"Mom! Mr. Amos let me hold the flashlight in the whole movie!"

"It was a dark movie," Amos said, climbing out stiffly. "Somebody needed to."

"Did you sleep?"

"I did," Eli said. "Mr. Amos snores like a Ford."

"Like a Chevy," Amos said. "A Ford has some dignity."

Eli laughed and ran straight for the Mustang.

I had spent the night before wondering how to keep him from the car, and this morning I had no idea how.

The shell sat on jack stands with the doors off.

The front seat was a bare steel frame, and the steering wheel hung loose from the column with its old cracked rim.

My father had held that wheel.

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