Roadside Assistance (25 page)

Friday afternoon, I padded up the driveway from the bus stop and climbed the steps to the deck. Glancing next door, I spotted the Jeep in the driveway with the garage door up, and my stomach flip-flopped.

Entering the kitchen, I found Darlene standing at the counter while studying a cookbook. She smiled at me. “How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” I said, dropping my backpack on the floor with a thump. I swiped an apple from the fruit bowl and bit into it. “How about yours?”

“Good,” she said. “I did the grocery shopping and had a meeting at church.” She turned toward the table, where a pile of books and a binder were spread out. “Would you do me a favor?”

“Sure.” I said, biting into the apple.

“Would you go retrieve Logan from next door? He ran out of here when he heard Zander’s Jeep pull up, and he needs to get back here and finish his homework.” She frowned. “He’s still grounded after getting a D on his math test. I let him go over there to say hi, but he knows he’s supposed to get his homework done and study.”

“Oh.” I bit into the apple, trying to ignore the sick feeling that overcame me at the thought of going to face Zander.

“I would really appreciate it, dear,” Darlene said while pulling some spices from the cabinet above her head.

“Okay.” I tossed the apple core into the trash can, wiped my hands on a paper towel, and headed for the deck.

My heart thumped in my chest as I approached the garage. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and then touched my headband to make sure it was still in place.

Standing at the open bay door, I found Logan sitting on a stool while Zander stood at the tool bench examining a carburetor that was in pieces before him.

“I told him that if he called me that again, I’d rearrange his face,” Logan was saying.

“The best thing you can do with a bully is ignore him,” Zander said. “That really makes them mad.”

“Yeah, but — “ Logan stopped speaking when he saw me. “Hey! It’s Emily!”

Zander glanced over at me, and my stomach twisted. When he gave me a halfhearted nod, my heart sank. “Hi,” he said.

I twirled my finger around a curl. “Hi.”

I cleared my throat, trying to think of something to say. “You’re having problems with a bully?” I asked Logan.

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” Logan said, waving it off. “I’m going to punch him out tomorrow.”

“I think that will earn you a trip to the principal’s office.” I leaned against the rear end of the car. “I have a feeling your mom and dad wouldn’t be too happy about that.”

“I told him to ignore the kid,” Zander said. “That will make the bully mad and keep Logan out of trouble.”

“That’s good advice.” I smiled at Zander, and he looked down at the carburetor. In an effort to break the ice, I stepped over to him. “Doing a rebuild?”

“Yeah.” He kept his eyes on the parts. “I figured I might as well since I have everything else rebuilt.” He grabbed his gloves.

“Can I help?” I offered.

“That’s okay,” he said, avoiding my stare. “I’m good.” He put safety glasses on and held the pieces over an oil pan while spraying them with carburetor cleaner.

Standing with my hands stuffed in my back pockets, I watched him, studying his handsome face and replaying our horrible fight. My heart was breaking in response to his silence. If we hadn’t fought, I would’ve been standing beside him, probably laughing and teasing him while we cleaned the parts together.

“How’ve you been?” I asked, grasping for anything to say.

“Okay,” Zander said, still not looking at me. “You?”

“What are you doing?” Logan asked, hopping down from the stool and stepping over to Zander.

Zander stopped spraying the parts. “I’m cleaning the parts with carb cleaner. Then I’m going to rebuild the carb, putting it back together with new gaskets.”

“Wow.” Logan rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “That sounds pretty hard.”

Zander shrugged. “Not really. It’s actually pretty easy.”

I glanced toward the rebuilt engine on the stand. “Looks like you’re pretty close to putting the engine back into the car.”

“Yup,” Zander said. “Pretty close.”

“If you let me know when you’re going to do it, my dad and I can help you,” I offered with a weak smile.

“Sure,” he said without facing me. “I’ll let you know if I need help.”

My heart sank. He knew as well as I did that he would need at least two people to help him get that motor back into the car. His statement meant one thing: he no longer wanted my help, and it crushed me.

“Logan James Richards!” Darlene’s voice bellowed. “You better get back in here and finish your homework!
Now,
young man!”

“Uh oh,” Zander said, grinning at Logan. “I think you’re in trouble.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I was supposed to tell you to come home.”

“Man,” Logan whined. “I never get to do anything.”

“Maybe if you do your homework, she’ll let you come out after supper,” I suggested.

“No,” Logan said with a sigh. “She’s still mad about my math test.” He schlepped toward the door. “See you later.”

“Bye, dude,” Zander called.

“Bye, Zander,” Logan called, heading toward the path.

I stood by the bench, running my fingers over the wood and wondering what to say. The silence between us hung like a dark, stifling fog. “Do you need any help?”

“Nope,” he said, his eyes trained on the parts. “I’m fine. I’ve done this plenty of times.”

Gnawing my bottom lip, I studied the engine. “I could bolt on the water pump for you.”

He placed the cleaned parts on the counter. Removing his gloves and safety glasses, he turned to me, and I was glad to see his face, even though he didn’t appear glad to see me.

“I think I got it under control,” he said with a frown.

“Okay,” I said quietly. “I just thought I would offer.”

“I’m good,” he said.

We stared at each other, and I wished I could think of the right thing to say. Although he frowned, I could see pain in his eyes. Was he feeling the same regret that I felt? Did he also wish he could say the right thing to fix what had broken between us?

“I guess I’ll see you at school,” I said.

“Take care, Emily,” he said, turning back to the tool bench. It felt strange to hear him call me by my given name.

Feeling dismissed, I stepped out of the garage. Before I hit the path, I turned back once more and spotted him cleaning the parts without even looking up at me. It was then that I knew I’d really lost him, and my eyes filled with tears.

chapter seventeen

H
appy birthday!”

I awoke to my dad yelling and the warm smell of turkey roasting somewhere in the house. Yawning, I rolled onto my side and swept the curls from my face.

“Rise and shine!” he called, crossing my room with something shielded behind his back. “You’re seventeen today. It’s a very special Thanksgiving.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I sat up, stretched, and yawned again. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and handed me a package wrapped in pink paper. “Happy birthday.”

“Dad,” I said, running my fingers over the paper. “You shouldn’t have gotten me anything. I told you not to spend any money on me. We need to save to move out.”

He ran his hand over my head. “You’re my baby girl. Of course I had to get you something.”

“Dad …”

“Just open it,” he whispered. “Please.”

I unwrapped the package and found a brown photograph album with the word “Family” engraved on the front. I looked up at my dad, and he gave me a sad smile.

“Go ahead, Emily,” he said. “Open it.”

I flipped the album open and my eyes focused on a
photograph of my mother holding me in the hospital the day I was born. I sighed, tears filling my eyes. Turning the page, I found photos of my mother and me when I was a baby — her rocking me, giving me a bath, holding me the day I was baptized, and sitting on the porch wearing a yellow sun hat.

I kept turning pages, finding photograph after photograph of my mother and me. I laughed, remembering wonderful, special days, and tears streamed down my face as grief overwhelmed me.

“She was beautiful,” I whispered, staring at a photograph of her and my father dressed up to go to their fifteenth high school reunion.

“She was,” he whispered, wiping his eyes. “And you look just like her.”

“No, I don’t.” I swiped my hands over my eyes. “She was much more beautiful.”

“You don’t see it, Emily, but you are too. You have her eyes, her hair, and her smile. I’m so proud of you, and I love you more than I can express.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” I whispered.

We flipped through more photos, sharing stories, laughing, and crying together. When I got to the last page, I studied one of my favorite photographs featuring the three of us sitting on our porch together the summer before we lost her. We were all so happy.

I ran my fingers over the album, marveling at the sentiment he’d put into the special gift. “This must have taken you forever to put together.”

He shrugged. “I just worked on it every night when I was sure you were asleep.”

“Thank you,” I said, closing the album. “This is the most wonderful gift you could’ve ever given me.” I wrapped my arms around him and kissed his cheek.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered, holding onto me. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” I said.

My phone began to ring, and my dad let go. “I’m sure your friends want to wish you a happy birthday too. Come down soon. Darlene has gifts for you.”

“Thanks.” Lifting my phone, I read Megan’s name on the screen. I flopped back on the bed and answered it.

By the time I came downstairs, I’d spoken to Megan and Chelsea, taken a shower, and gotten dressed. I found Darlene and Whitney in the kitchen, cooking Thanksgiving dinner.

“Happy birthday!” Whitney said, hugging me.

“Happy birthday, dear,” Darlene said. “Would you like your gifts now or when we have cake?”

“We can wait until later.” I spotted my dad watching television in the den. “Where are Logan and Uncle Chuck?”

“They went to get Grandma,” Whitney said.

“Oh.” I stepped out onto the deck and shivered in the cold as I glanced over at Zander’s house. We’d barely spoken over the past few weeks, and I missed him. He said hi to me in the halls at school and when I saw him at the house, but we barely spoke more than a lame greeting. Last week I’d retrieved Logan from Zander’s garage, as usual, and Zander shared that he’d be away for the holiday. His mother had decided on a family Thanksgiving at the beach, and from my window I’d watched him leave last night. I wondered if he’d remembered today was my birthday and if he even cared. I missed his friendship so much that my heart ached.

A car pulled into the driveway and I inwardly groaned.
Just what I need now — Grandma.

The SUV door opened, and Logan jogged up the steps to the back door. “Happy birthday, Emily!”

“Thanks,” I said.

Uncle Chuck and Grandma approached, and I forced a smile. “Happy Thanksgiving, Grandma,” I said.

“Oh, thank you, dear,” she said, climbing the stairs. “My arthritis is giving me a fit. I may have to leave shortly after dinner. My recliner is the only place where I get relief.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” I said. She opened her arms, and I gave her a quick hug. “It’s good to see you, Grandma.”

“You too. I haven’t seen you in a long while. Did you forget to come visit me?” she asked, her brown eyes full of scrutiny. “You’ve only come once since you moved here.”

Does she practice these guilt trips?

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” I said. “I’ve been busy.”
Where’s Dad when I need him? He should take some of this flack.

“How’s school?” she asked.

“It’s fine.” I wondered if she forgot it was my birthday.

“That’s good.” She started toward the door. “Where’s Whitney? I believe she had an advanced placement history test this past week. I bet she got an A.”

As Grandma walked through the door, I turned toward Zander’s garage. I considered sneaking in there later to get some peace and quiet. I wondered if Zander would mind if I went in there and worked on his car for him. He’d mentioned to me that he was close to getting the car running. Would he even care that I’d been in there?

“Happy birthday, Emily.”

I’d forgotten Chuck was standing there until he spoke. I turned toward his smile.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Your grandmother means well,” he said. “She doesn’t think before she speaks sometimes, but she has a good heart — deep down. Way deep down.” He grinned. “Although it may not feel like it, she loves you. She’s just a little thoughtless sometimes.”

Stunned by his words, I blinked. “Thank you.”

He opened the back door and then turned again. “Don’t stay out here too long. There’s a chill in the air.”

I watched him go inside and looked back at Zander’s garage. I hoped the day would go by quickly, so I could get back to what I missed and craved most for my birthday — working on his car.

“Logan, would you please say a prayer?” Darlene asked when we all sat down to Thanksgiving dinner a couple of hours later.