style="font-size:15px;"> She flounced across the street, passed by the fueling pump and stepped into the office of the motor garage. The nasty smell nearly sent her right back out. Grease. Exhaust. She fought the urge to press a handkerchief over her nose.
No one was in the office area, if it could be called that. The tiny room had lots of shelves and hooks filled with automobile parts, like belts and hoses and stuff that Jen would love but Minnie didn’t recognize. A single desk with a small cash register and a messy pile of papers dominated the room. To the left, an open doorway led to the work area. A couple of cars filled the dirty space, but Minnie couldn’t see Peter. He must be underneath or inside a car.
Should she wait or call out for him? As she nibbled on the glove and debated what to do, she happened to notice that the papers on the desk were work orders and bills. If the man needed work on his car, then one of these might have his name on it. She turned the top piece of paper around. No, that wasn’t it. Mr. Kensington’s name was at the top.
“Can I help you?” Peter said.
“Oh!” Minnie jumped away from the desk, paper still in hand. “I was just...” She didn’t have a good explanation, but maybe a smile would distract him from the fact she’d been snooping. She slipped the paper behind her skirt and gave him her biggest smile. “I thought maybe we could talk.”
“About what?” Peter stood in the open doorway between the office and the work area, rubbing his hands on a filthy old rag.
“That rag must be putting more dirt on your hands than taking it off.”
“You came all the way here to tell me that?”
“No.” She gave him another smile, swished in front of the desk and covertly replaced the invoice on the desktop. “I wondered what kind of car that was.”
“What car?”
“The one your friend just drove away in.”
“A Pierce-Arrow.”
“Ah.” Minnie noted that he didn’t contradict her assumption that the driver was a friend of his. “It looks expensive.”
“It is.”
“Your friend owns it?”
Peter looked suspicious. “Why do you want to know?”
“No particular reason. Just making conversation.” Out of the corner of her eye, Minnie saw the invoice slip off the stack. Before it slid to the floor, she nudged it toward the center of the desk. Though Peter hadn’t answered her question, he hadn’t contradicted her assumption, either. That was good enough for her. Now all she needed to know was his marital status. “Is your friend staying long?”
“Just the night. Why?”
“I just figured you would want to talk with him. You know, catch up on family and all.”
Peter didn’t bite. “What are you getting at?”
This time Minnie couldn’t explain away the heat in her cheeks, so she stared at her feet. “Just wondered who the stranger was. We don’t get many newcomers in Pearlman, especially someone with such a fancy car.”
“Vince is an old friend from New York. He used to help out at the—” he hesitated, and his neck flushed red “—at the orphanage.”
“Like volunteer work?” Maybe this Vince was like Pastor Gabe and his sister. They did a lot of work for the orphan society that had sent Peter and a handful of other orphans to Pearlman almost four years ago.
“I suppose he volunteered, but I don’t really know. It didn’t matter to the kids if a person was paid or not.”
“Oh.” Embarrassed, Minnie struggled to turn the conversation back in the right direction. “But he became your friend.”
Peter smiled at that. “He taught me carpentry.”
Relieved, Minnie seized the opening. “He’s a carpenter? He doesn’t look like one.” The only carpenter she knew dressed in work clothes and drove a Model T truck. “Is that his regular job?”
“I don’t know. Why all the interest in Vince?”
Minnie had come too close to revealing what she wanted. “Oh, just curious. It gets so dull here that anything new is welcome.” She tossed him another smile. “Besides, he did a good job teaching you carpentry. You make beautiful furniture.”
He beamed. “I like working with wood. It’s kinda creative. More’n fixing cars.” He flushed again. “I mean, more than fixing cars.”
In a way, Minnie appreciated that he tried to speak correctly around her, but it made him nervous, and a nervous Peter wouldn’t divulge what she needed to know.
“I’m glad he taught you. Be sure to thank him for me and for my father. Daddy appreciates the bed table that you made for him. The casters make it easy to move into place, and it lets him work on the accounts. It helps him feel—” her throat swelled before saying the last word “—useful.”
Peter shrugged. “I liked making it.” He shifted his weight, telling her this conversation had gone on too long.
“Well, I suppose I should get home.”
“Me, too.”
Minnie wouldn’t exactly call Constance House a home, but Peter had moved in with his foster brother and sister-in-law a couple of years ago to help out at the orphanage.
“See you later.” Peter headed back into the garage.
If she didn’t get the answer she needed now, she’d never know. “I hope you get to spend time with your friend tonight.”
Peter halted, his expression quizzical.
“Before he has to go home to his family,” she added and then held her breath.
He shrugged. “Oh, he’ll be back on Saturday.” Then he returned to work.
Minnie didn’t follow. He hadn’t told her what she wanted to know, but she had time to find out. Between now and Saturday, she would transform herself into a woman who would dazzle Peter’s friend.
* * *
Peter had let an opportunity slip away to ask Minnie if she would help with the upholstery, but he didn’t realize it until he sat down to supper and Mariah asked about his day. Long ago, they’d learned to feed the children first and then have the older orphans read to the younger ones so the adults could eat in relative peace. That gave them the chance to catch up and take care of any pressing business.
“Anything interesting happen today?” Mariah asked him.
Hendrick looked up hopefully. “Any new business?”
Peter swallowed a mouthful of mashed potatoes as his mind flitted over the surprising events of the past several hours. “An old friend stopped by after I dropped off your medicine. Do you remember Vince?”
She
