The Mechanic

Chapter Twenty-five - "Freaking OUT."

"The Mechanic"

Chapter Twenty-four

'Freaking OUT.'

Scene...

The Next Day

Dec 23, 5:24pm

Demi's POV

I missed my best friend to an impossible extent.

Especially at times like this.

I was browsing through the mall, practically mindlessly, in search of the perfect gift for my mechanic. The Christmas Eve get-together that he'd invited me to was only a day away, and as excited as I was to spend more time with Joe, I was incredibly nervous to meet his family. I felt an inexplicable unction to impress them, as if I were some sort of significant other of his. While it was known between the two of us that we had feelings for each other, the truth of the matter was that I was not his girlfriend; and yet, I was still a complete anxious mess about meeting the family.

Specifically his mother.

He'd always spoken of her so respectfully, as if she were the greatest woman he'd ever had the privilege of knowing. I was fully aware that Joe had an amazing relationship with his mother, and that many things he did warranted her initial approval.

So there was that pressure.

I'd spent the better part of my day going from store to store, looking for something- anything that Joe would like. After all, I knew he was getting a gift for me; he'd told me so on the day he'd invited me. So I knew whatever I decided to get for him had to be special.

Nevertheless, with hours upon hours of endless shopping and no result, I finally gave in, and decided to give Ariana a call. I leaned against a clothing rack full of leather jackets, pulled out my phone, and pressed it to my ear.

"Demi!" She answered excitedly. "I was just about to call you. I miss you so much."

"Oh my God, I miss you too," I said exhaustedly. "Especially right now! I need your help."

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," I assured her, brushing off her concerns. "I just . . . I can't find a gift for Joe." She laughed a bit, sighing in relief.

"Okay, well, what all have you looked at?"

"Everything!" I exclaimed, turning to the rack of leather jackets. "I've tried watches, suits, ties, colognes - Ariana help me, please I don't wanna embarrass myself tomorrow-,"

"Whoa, whoa Demi! Relax," she giggled. "I can already tell you what your problem is."

"Well what is it?" I asked, desperately. I had gotten so worked up, I was actually a bit winded. 

"You're shopping for Wilmer. Not Joe. That's the problem." I scrunched my eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

"Look, I don't blame you; it's likely just a habit you've formed after being with a rich man for so long. But think a little, Dem. Joe is a mechanic. Have you ever seen him in a suit and tie?"

Fuck. She was right.

"Okay, so, what do I buy for a mechanic? A wrench? He has one of those-,"

"Oh my God, you're so clueless," she laughed again. "Demi, he's not a stereotype! He's a man. A man you know really, really well! You're actually kind of under-thinking this, if that's a thing."

"Ari, you know I suck at shopping for anyone that's not me! Come on, please just help me!" I began pacing back and forth down the aisles of the store, looking at random objects as Ariana spoke to me.

"Dem, stop freaking out!" She exclaimed. I could hear the smile on her face, and I knew it was smug. After all, I'd never been so out of sorts with nerves. I was sure it was amusing for her. "You need to start from square one. The very moment you met him. What kind of man did you think he was when you first saw him?"

"Umm," I traced my thoughts all the way back to three weeks prior. "I thought he was kind, and wise, and generous, and handsome." Ariana sighed.

"Demi, come on, dig a little deeper. What makes Joe so special to you?"

I stopped pacing, took a breath, and shut my eyes. As the image of Joe's smiling face entered my mind, I felt my nerves settle the slightest bit.

"The way he looks at me," I said, opening them again. "It's never changed. He's always looked at me like I'm  . . . necessary. Needed."

"That's absolutely adorable," she muttered. "What else?"

I took a breath, feeling my heart rate slow.

"He's all man," I said, biting my lip. "He's not afraid to get his hands dirty, or put in long hours of hard work to get a result. He doesn't give up. He's loyal to anything he sets his mind to."

"You mean . . . ," Ariana breathed. "Like . . . you?"

"What?"

"I mean, Demi, come on, you're kind of a fixer-upper. Isn't that what a mechanic loves?"

Well, damn. She had a point; and a valid one at that. 

Maybe Joe knew from the minute he met me that I was damaged goods. Maybe that was why he'd always looked at me the way he did. He saw in me what he saw in the cars that came into his shop - a job to do.

He clung to routine.

He loved fixing things.

"So the question is," Ariana began again, "What do you get for an incredibly sexy guy that loves taking things apart, just to put them back together again?"

Somehow, I came across the rack of leather jackets yet again, and I began to examine them a bit more closely. One of them stood out to me most; it was a deep charcoal, covered in flaps and intentional rips. It looked worn, and yet so fashionable. It was clearly a motorcycle jacket, and at the sight of it, I knew exactly what to get him.

"You're a life saver," I said to Ariana. 

"It's what I do," she replied. "Alright, Dem, I have to go. Let me know what you get! Love you."

"Love you too, Ari. Come back soon. I miss you."

"I will! Bye!"

"Bye."

---

After swiping Wilmer's credit card a record amount of times, I finally had Joe's gifts prepared for the get-together. I had even picked up something for his mother, for reasons I hadn't yet picked apart.

By the time of my arrival back home, the sun had already set, and I was incredibly exhausted. I had already begun to prepare for bed, as my eyes were getting heavy before I'd even gotten the chance to lie down. The day had certainly been a long one, clogged heavily with thoughts of my mechanic. 

And then, with impossible timing, I received a text from him.

          "Sorry I couldn't come by today. Busy day at the shop."

Of course I'd forgotten that he'd mentioned coming by, and I was glad I did. It gave me just enough time to get him a gift, while simultaneously missing him a little more.

          "That's fine," I wrote back. I went about my normal bedtime routine then: brushing my hair, then my teeth, slipping into my satin pajamas, and contemplating calling Wilmer before finally deciding not to.

          "I'll pick you up tomorrow morning at 8am. Just in time for breakfast," Joe's text alerted me.

I smiled at my phone's screen as I climbed into my bed, sure I'd get a great night's sleep.

          "That's perfect. Can't wait to see you," I replied boldly. 

With that, I turned off my phone, snuggled into my comforter, and passed the hell out.

JJDL