She asked:
"You live around here?"
"Twenty minutes."
"Family?"
He paused.
"Daughter."
Sophia’s suspicion strengthened.
"How old?"
"Eight."
Single father.
Mechanic.
Jake.
Thirty-five, probably.
She almost laughed.
He looked over.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You smile a lot for somebody whose car is broken."
"I'm considering the possibility that the universe is making fun of me."
"It usually is."
"What about you?"
"What?"
"You headed somewhere?"
Jake returned to work.
"Dinner."
"Christmas dinner?"
"Sort of."
Sophia leaned closer.
"Date?"
He looked up.
Maybe surprised.
"Maybe."
"That's evasive."
"Blind date."
Sophia bit the inside of her cheek.
No way.
"What time?"
Jake's expression shifted.
"Seven."
Sophia's heart began beating faster.
She should ask the obvious question.
Instead she heard herself say:
"Poor woman."
Jake smiled.
"Why?"
"You're going to show up late covered in grease."
"She might appreciate authenticity."
"She might own eyes."
"You always this mean?"
"Only when I'm freezing."
Jake returned attention to wheel.
"You?"
Sophia almost laughed.
"Also dinner."
"Date?"
"Possibly."
"Blind?"
She stared.
"How did you know?"
"You're too dressed up for roadside assistance."
"Maybe I always dress like this."
"Then Vermont is failing you."
She laughed.
Jake looked up again.
For a moment the joking quieted.
Snow gathered in his hair.
Sophia wanted to brush it away.
That thought surprised her.
He seemed to notice something in her expression because his own softened.
Then he looked back at the car.
"Connector's loose."
"Good?"
"Probably."
"Probably doesn't inspire confidence."
"Cars don't respect certainty."
"You sound philosophical for a mechanic."
"Occupational hazard."
Sophia's fingers were going numb.
Jake noticed.
"Put your hands in your pockets."
"I'm fine."
"You're shaking."
"I'm not."
He raised eyebrows.
Sophia obeyed.
"Bossy."
"Cold people make stupid decisions."
"Is that why you're late for a blind date?"
He laughed.
"Maybe."
Sophia leaned against the car.
"Do you want to go?"
Jake paused.
"Honestly?"
"Preferably."
"No."
She smiled.
"Me neither."
"Then why?"
"Friend."
"Sister."
They answered almost together.
Sophia laughed.
Jake looked at her.
The air changed slightly.
Two strangers.
Same inconvenience.
Same reluctant destination.
She sat on her heels beside him.
"What's she like?"
"Who?"
"Your date."
"No idea."
"Name?"
Jake looked at her.
There it was.
Moment.
He seemed suddenly aware too.
He said:
"Sophia."
She stared.
Snow fell between them.
Jake's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Your date?"
Sophia whispered:
"Jake."
Neither spoke.
A car passed slowly.
Tires whispered through slush.
Jake lowered the wrench.