Second Chances Anthology
Heart of Glass Excerpt
~~~
Zack Doherty
IT WAS EARLY
on Friday morning, and I was beat. Ever since I’d touched down in Sydney on
Tuesday, I’d been sleeping during the day and lying awake at night, having not
quite adjusted to the time difference. Although the jet lag was literally
killing me, I needed to start the newest phase of my life, and my first plan of
action was to get the hell out of bed and look for a job.
I already
missed the life I’d built back in San Francisco—my family and friends, even my
crappy job at a local bar I’d taken after cutbacks forced me to leave the job I
loved. But after suffering a bad break-up with Trent Forster, the man I
thought I’d one day marry until I found him in bed with his ex-boyfriend, I had
needed a little time and a lot of
space to rethink the direction my life was headed.
It had been
more than six months since that day, yet I still hadn’t managed to move on.
Everywhere I’d looked, Trent had been there; our social circles colliding so
often that his and his lover’s presence had worn me down. Eventually deciding
enough was enough, I’d packed my bags, my tail tucked firmly between my legs,
and departed for Australia for a working holiday, leaving behind the only life
I’d ever known.
My father had
returned here to Canberra, south-west of Sydney, the place he was born, when
I’d moved out of the house to finish college, a year or so after he and Mom
divorced. I was looking forward to not only making a fresh start but also
reconnecting with him, having only managed to visit a mere handful of times
since he’d returned here ten long years ago. I was giving myself six months to
find a job, and if I liked it, I’d probably end up extending my stay and finding
a place of my own.
Dad had
returned to the job he loved since coming home. It was the very same job he’d
had when he first met Mom—working in public affairs for the US Embassy—and it
kept him extremely busy. So busy, in fact, that he rarely had the opportunity
to take his beloved Mustang out for a spin, especially since the Embassy
provided him with a car for work purposes. I’d only been in the house for a few
minutes when he handed me the keys to the Candy Apple Red ’67 Fastback, telling
me it needed to be driven around town from time to time to keep it in running order.
After a quick
reviving shower and shave, I grabbed the car keys from the dish on the
sideboard, happy that I finally had the chance to oblige him.
It had been
five years since I’d sat behind the wheel of this particular vehicle. No matter
how many times I opened the door and jumped in, the familiar smell of tobacco,
mint, and leather never failed to invoke many happy memories ... so many, in
fact, that I had a hard time keeping a smile off my face whenever I slipped
into the driver’s seat and turned the key.
But when I
decided to go for a drive and check out Dad’s place of work, stopping off at
the store on the way to buy a newspaper so I could check out the local job
market, I thanked the gods for their gift, because if not for my father’s
generosity, I’d never have encountered ... him.
He was washing car windows at the traffic lights. He was tall, tanned, and
lean with broad shoulders. I could tell his hair was long, thick, and wavy by
the wisps of light brown hair that peeked out every which way from underneath
his black, woollen hat. A smattering of stubble across his jaw and his long,
narrow nose enhanced his features perfectly, and when I caught sight of his
bright blue eyes as he moved closer, the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen,
roving over the entire car before they met with mine, I was hooked in an
instant.
I had to
suppress a laugh when I noticed he was wearing one of those god-awful green
glow-in-the-dark vests, and as he stood there, holding a squeegee in his hand
and looking at me like I was something to eat, a strange but exhilarating
combination of embarrassment and elation flowed through my every cell. Even
as the light turned green and the traffic began to move, I continued to devour
every inch of him. Shooting him a nervous wink for good measure, I watched as
he turned and walked away, his ass swaying hypnotically with every step he
took. It was in that moment as I sat there, ogling the most handsome man I’d
ever laid eyes on, that I felt as though I’d been struck by lightning.
