Leroy's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

A week after the diner, Rori's sketch still hung on Leroy's fridge. He lived above a mechanic's garage. The flat smelled of oil and old coffee. He'd looked at that drawing every morning, at the word she wrote under his face. Worried. He wanted to see her again. He just didn't know how to make it happen. Elias solved it for him, the way he solved everything. He showed up at the flat with two cups of coffee and a grin. "Good news. I found where she works. That little bookshop." He set a cup on the workbench. "I'll go in tomorrow. Warm her up. Get her number. Then I hand it to you." Leroy stared at his brother. That was the plan. Elias talks. Elias charms. Elias delivers the girl like a part for a car. And it would work. It always worked. "No," Leroy said. Elias blinked. "No?" "If you get her number, she likes you. Not me." The words came out slow and hard. "She stayed for me at the diner. Not for your winking. Me." "Little brother." Elias set down his coffee. "You freeze up. You do the murder face. I'm trying to help." "I know." Leroy's throat tightened. "But every time you help, she meets you. I need her to meet me." Elias opened his mouth. Then he closed it. For once he had nothing charming to say. He picked up his coffee and leaned back. "Okay," he said quietly. "Then what's your move?" Leroy didn't have one. He looked at the sketch on the fridge. She saw past the face. Maybe he just had to let her keep looking. He crossed to his closet and pulled out a flannel shirt, warm orange and brown. His mother said it brought out his eyes. He never wore it. Too soft for a face like his. "I'll go myself," Leroy said. "Tomorrow. Alone." Elias watched him hold up the shirt. Something in his brother's face changed. The grin faded into something smaller and real. "You'll freeze," Elias warned. "Probably." Leroy folded the shirt over his arm. "But it'll be me freezing." Elias stood. He walked to the door, then stopped. "For what it's worth, she didn't laugh at my jokes." He almost smiled. "She waited for you to talk. I noticed." The door shut. Leroy was alone in the oily quiet. He hung the flannel on the chair where he'd see it first thing. His hands were sweating already. Tomorrow he would walk into that bookshop with no brother, no plan, and a face that scared strangers. But it would be his face she saw. That was the whole point. He looked at the drawing one more time and let himself be scared.