In Touch (Play On #1) by Cd Brennan Read Free Book Online

a thirst.”
    Gillian pointed to a green reusable grocery bag on the lawn. She ducked her head under the hood, but could hear her friend rifling through sack. A bottle of beer appeared in Gillian’s line of sight.
    “No thanks, no beer, but can you open my wine?” Gillian swiped a dirty finger down both sides of her face like war paint. “My hands are greasy.”
    “Still off the beer?”
    “Yup.”
    “Like the feather, by the way.”
    Gillian tapped her head until she found what Junette referred to. “Oh, yeah, found this gull feather on the lawn this morning. Thought it added to my warrior look.”
    “Truly hard core.” More rustling, and Junette said, “I found the six-pack, but no bottle of wine.”
    Gillian balanced the troubleshooting manual on the engine block, wedging it between some clear tubing and what she had identified as the radiator. She weighted the first pages down with a wrench so the book would stay open. “It’s there at the bottom.”
    Junette snorted. “You mean this airplane-sized bottle of Cab Sav?”
    “One glass of red wine a day is beneficial. Finally recognized by the US health system, known for centuries by the Europeans.”
    Gillian turned in time to catch Junette making crazy eyes at her. “What?”
    “Nothing. I guess that means I get to finish this six-pack off myself. I’m good with that.”
    “All yours.”
    “So how was your first day with the Blues?”
    Gillian shrugged, then took a sip of the wine and set it on the ground. “All right.” She unscrewed the cap on the air filter and lifted it off.
    “You don’t sound too enthused. Not like when you talked about it this past spring.” Junette pulled a portable camp chair from the lawn to the car and took a seat. “Maybe it’s not such a good idea. You can’t change people if they don’t want to be changed.”
    Gillian couldn’t look at her best friend so busied herself inspecting the guts of the car, not really seeing anything. She’d started out in college as a music major, but changed her second year to physical therapy. So much happened that year, and she had been determined then, as much as she was now, to have a career that might help others. If she only impacted one person, that was enough. But to her surprise, she found she was good at it, too. In her own non-traditional ways. “No, but I have to try.”
    “That’s honorable, Gill, but why don’t you just get a job as a PT in an established practice like everyone else out of college? That would be better for you.”
    “Because I’m not everyone else.”
    Junette snorted. “Ain’t that the truth.”
    Gillian eyed the air filter, blew into the creases, and then placed it back into the circular receptacle.
    “Gillian, did you hear what I said?”
    “Sorry, no, what?” Gillian walked around the side of the car to give it an appraising look. All the work. Years of fixing the rusted frame, replacing piece after piece from entire doors to floor pedals, updating the engine, everything. Andrew was the talented one as machines went. She had mostly handed him wrenches and contributed her pennies. She should have watched more closely, should have listened when he spouted off his mechanical wisdom.
    “I said would you turn this shit off? Every time I come here, you’re playing the same crap.” She swirled her beer in the air. “Like hello, we left the eighties over thirty years ago.”
    Simple Minds was singing “Don’t You Forget About Me” and hell if she was going to turn it down or off. It was one of her favorites. “Eighties music is the best. So much passion and ingenuity. Folk will catch on and my music will come back full force. I’m just way ahead of the rest of you.”
    Junette blew a raspberry. “Whatevah.”
    “Plus, it’s a beautiful night for it.” Gillian opened her arms and did a slow twirl. “A warm summer evening in Michigan. Lawn mowers buzzing, sprinklers sprinkling. The kind of balmy night you want to sit out and turn up