Hidden in the Blood: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 5)

Chapter Twelve: Al, Fall, 1984-Summer, 1985?

"You'll do," Marnie said to him one evening when they were working together at the Petro-Canada gas station. 

She was the cashier, he was the full-service attendant. Because of the bylaws in Coquitlam, self-service wasn't allowed. It was a quirk that always assured there was work for him in the evening if he wanted it, and he did; since he went to school during the day, it made for a good income. He worked evenings and weekends to pay for his first year of college, and it had been a pleasant enough arrangement up to now.

He was eighteen. She was thirty. 

He was a virgin, and it had only bothered him a little, because he knew why. High school wasn't very kind to him. He was shy by nature and had a hard time talking to girls. His main friends in Coquitlam had been the Reis boys, and they were hardly any better than he was at talking to the opposite sex; all three of them had attended their proms without a date. Not that there had been anyone in particular he was attracted to; Rachel still held his heart even after all these years, and Lauren, with that kiss she gave him a few years ago, had given him the mistaken impression that other girls might save him the trouble of approaching them and approach him instead. Maybe that was the trouble. He'd grown up with the two girls who loomed largest in his life, and it had been easy interacting with them. Starting from scratch, with girls he didn't know, was what was so hard.

He'd resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't get anywhere with women if he didn't take more risks, when he found the job at the gas station and met Marnie Pruitt on the evening shift.

It hadn't started right away. At first their shifts didn't overlap much. He'd gotten the job in the summer and worked days, mainly. He only saw her as he was leaving and she was starting her shift. 

Then the autumn came around, and his change in work schedule put him in her orbit.

He couldn't put his finger on how he became attracted to her. She was older than him by more than a decade, and at his age that was a lot. She was pretty, but it was a worn prettiness; she was already divorced, and the marriage she'd left was an abusive one, verbally, not physically. He learned this from the talks they had. The constant contempt and belittling from her ex-husband had worked on her like a sand blaster; that, and her smoking, made her look ten years older than she was. She had limp, dirty blonde hair she usually let hang loose to her shoulders, which were angular and wide for a woman with such a slender frame. She was almost too thin; he saw her smoke more than he saw her eat. 

And yet, there were things about her beyond her looks that drew him to her. He found her hands especially appealing, for some reason; the way they held her cigarette, the way they hit the keys on the cash register, delicate yet strong. He loved watching them move and gesture while she talked, and he suspected she noticed. The tired smiles she gave him whenever they started their shift together warmed his heart; when she smiled, something inside her glowed, and knowing it had been him who made her smile, when her life up to that point had been a hard one, made him tender toward her. She trusted him to do his share of the duties even though he was relatively inexperienced, and he appreciated that she treated him like an adult. She never questioned his competence and always assumed he knew what he was doing, and helped him when he admitted he didn't. Mostly, though, she talked to him and opened her life to him, never sugarcoating any ugly detail. Her confiding in him, telling him he was a really good listener, made him feel ten feet tall.

Then, one evening, she told him, "You're a really good guy, Al. I know you're young, but you're not a self-absorbed prick like other guys your age. How is it you don't have a girlfriend?"

That was the start of their relationship, or whatever it was.

Sometimes the gas station was empty at night. Sometimes it would be half an hour before a customer arrived. If they needed gas, a bell hose would announce their presence. If they entered the store, a chime on the door would warn them.