Page 4 of Unraveling Fate

“Not exactly standard issue, are you?” she said, tracing the ridges of the carving. The line wove under and over itself, leading back to where it had started. A stylized wolf ran in the middle of the design. As a kid, she’d seen enough examples of Celtic knotwork in Drostan’s office to recognize it when she saw it. She supposed it made sense for Drostan to add his own flair to it—the wolf matched the tattoo that wound around his left forearm.

But if this car was that special to him, why keep it hidden away and nonfunctional?

Over the last year of near homelessness, she’d been forced to dump or donate many of her possessions, but she had kept some of her father’s tools, and his intricate knowledge of Italian imports still lived in her head. If she got the Ferrari running again, it might show Drostan how much she appreciated his help.

“You who are made to outrace the angels,” she whispered to the Ferrari. “You ‘don’t want to go’ anymore? You’re content sitting here in this garage, going nowhere? I don’t think so.”

Closing her eyes, Cadenza laid her fingertips over the wolf, this time searching for the music.

She found…nothing.

An empty spot gaped between the melody of the cement floor and the faint sound of brass horns coming from the walls, like an orchestra where someone wasn’t playing their part. She opened her eyes, brow wrinkling. The earthsong was so eager, she’d always been able to call it at will. Hiding was not something the music did. Just like leaving a gorgeous import alone and broken was not something Drostan did.Weird.

Her phone dinged with an alert from the plane ticket price watch she’d set earlier that week.Tickets from San Francisco (SFO-San Francisco Intl) to Venice (VCE-Marco Polo) went up $25.

She rocketed out of the car. “No. You don’t need a mystery right now, Cadenza. You are here to earn money and get the hell out of this town before it sucks you back in, and then you’re going to Italy.” She planted her feet, breathing hard. “Seven hundred dollars. Eight, counting checked bag fees.”

But five hundred of that’ll come from this job.The taste of turtle chocolates lingered on her tongue. Drostan could easily find a local volunteer to sing for the races, and recording radio jingles was a day gig. To say nothing of giving Cadenza a place to live. He’d gone above and beyond, and she knew it. A lump formed in her throat.

Maybe just while I’m here anyway. For Drostan.She climbed back in the driver’s seat. Tried again.

A sense of something old and sleeping crept over her. Old and sleeping, but with a tune buried underneath. She coaxed at the song, trying to tease it out. A few notes peeked through, tasting almost familiar, then slipped out of reach, like a radio station just out of range.

It’s a start.Her fingers caressed the buttery leather of the interior, coming to rest on the carved wolf.

“I think I can convince you to go again.”

Two

25 Aug 2019

33 days to go

The recording session the next day proved simple. Two versions of a jingle that Cadenza could have sight read in her sleep. While not classically trained, Canon had a smooth, pleasant voice that he’d adapted well to mesh with hers. She checked her phone when they finished. Not even noon yet.

The receptionist in the lobby stopped her on the way out. “Your boss had to run back up to the dealership, but he said he could be back in a couple of hours if you want to wait for him.” Cadenza had ridden with Drostan to the studio that morning.

“I can give you a ride back up the hill,” Canon volunteered. “No point in sitting here for two hours.”

“Thanks,” she said. He’d behaved himself during the recording. Riding in the car together for ten minutes should be fine.

“Great.” He held the door for her on the way out. “Do you want to get some lunch before heading back? There’s a great to-go deli around the corner.”

Cadenza hesitated. That sounded too close to a lunch date. Maybe she’d gotten the wrong impression of him yesterday, and he was handsome, in a polo shirt, Ken-doll type of way, but living in Sonora again was a temporary situation on the way to a permanent career. She had no intention of dating anyone right now.

“That’s ok, I wouldn’t want to keep you from the sales floor.”

Canon shrugged and flashed a smile. “I’d be on my lunch break right now anyway. And I’d like to get to know my new neighbor.”

“Wait. Neighbor?” she asked. Drostan hadn’t mentioned anyone besides the two of them living on site.

“Yeah, Norroway’s roommate. Deli’s over one street.” Canon gestured to the west and started off down the sidewalk, leaving her to follow if she wanted that ride.

“I moved up from Hayward when I got this job,” he continued. “And bunking in his spare room was the easiest arrangement. I didn’t have to waste time looking for a place, so I could get to selling faster. And I think Drostan enjoys the company since his boys are gone.”

“His boys have been gone since I was little though,” she said.

He shrugged again. “I don’t know, it just seems like he broods about it sometimes. You know, like sitting at the window with a glass of whiskey staring out at the garages kind of brooding. I figure he’s remembering working with his sons. I try to have a weekly game night with him, chess or Stramash or something. I think it helps cheer him up.”