Claire occasionally took calls with heads of state while Jake searched the kitchen for missing sockets.
Lily told both to stop being embarrassing.
Two years after the Mercedes arrived, Claire entered the garage on a Friday afternoon.
Jake was underneath a truck.
Same as before.
Her shoes appeared beside the creeper.
Jake rolled out.
“Car broken?”
“No.”
“Company broken?”
“Always.”
“Then?”
Claire held two coffees.
“And conversation.”
Jake smiled.
She sat on the old bench.
Same bench.
Paint more worn now.
Jake joined her.
They drank.
Sunset poured through the open bay.
Claire looked toward the sign above the workbench.
CALLOWAY’S AUTO
Lily had repainted it recently.
Jake asked:
“What?”
Claire smiled.
“I was remembering.”
“Bad habit.”
“The first day.”
“You nearly ruined a white blazer.”
“You were rude.”
“You liked it.”
“Unfortunately.”
Jake looked toward her.
“Do you regret not telling me?”
Claire thought.
“Yes.”
That surprised him.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I still understand why I did it.”
“But I should have trusted you sooner.”
Jake nodded.
“Fair.”
Claire looked at him.
“Do you regret saying yes to the gala?”
“Every time I meet Victor.”
She laughed.
Then:
“Seriously.”
Jake leaned back.
“No.”
“Not once?”
“Maybe during the speeches.”
Claire hit his shoulder.
Jake smiled.
“No.”
“I don't regret it.”
She looked down at her coffee.
Jake noticed.
“What?”
Claire shook her head.
“No diagnosing.”
“You came into my garage.”
“My rules.”
He moved closer.
“Claire.”
She looked up.
Jake reached into his pocket.
Her expression changed instantly.
“No.”
Jake froze.
“What?”
She laughed nervously.
“I mean—”
“Not no.”
“I just—”
“Are you proposing?”
Jake stared.
“You ruined it.”
“Oh my God.”
“Claire.”
She covered her mouth.
Jake sighed.
“I had a speech.”
“I hate speeches.”
“I know.”
He pulled out a small ring box anyway.
Claire’s eyes filled.
Jake opened it.
Simple diamond.
Elegant.
Not enormous.
Claire stared.
“Before you complain, Lily approved it.”
Claire laughed through tears.
“Traitor.”
Jake continued:
“I had this whole thing about broken cars and saving things.”
“Terrible.”
“I know.”
“So I'll make it simple.”
He took her hand.
“Will you marry me?”
Claire looked at him.
At grease on his knuckles.
At the same man who had looked beneath her hood before he ever cared about her last name.
“Yes.”
Jake smiled.