I rolled my eyes with a laugh. “I’ve apologized to Violet, like, a hundred times. She’s forgiven me. You all should try it sometime.”
“Of course we have. It’s just so unlike you.”
“It was months ago, Mom,” I said with a smile. “Everybody’s gotten over it except you.”
Amelia batted her eyelashes at me. “Where were you that night again?”
“Out with a friend,” I said quickly, dumping red pepper flakes on my pepperoni slice.
“Which friend was that?”
“You don’t know him.”
I felt Mom’s eyes on me as if she were scrutinizing that particular pronoun.
“It was just some guy from the team,” I said trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. “It was a dumb mistake, and I regret it and I apologized. Let’s move on.”
Except I couldn’t move on, and I didn’t regret it as much as I told myself I did.
“Ladies, stop giving River a hard time,” Dad said with a laugh. Whereas I had forgotten all about the season-ending win, it was still written all over his face. “Boys will be boys, right?”
“Boys will remain boys unless they’re taught to be men,” Mom said, shooting him a pointed look.
He chuckled. “Fair enough. River, you’re grounded.”
Amelia’s eyes widened. “For real?”
“No, I’m teasing your brother.”
I shot my sister a triumphant look. She stuck her tongue out at me.
“But on a serious note, tonight after dinner, River, we have to go over your college applications. You’ve been procrastinating on them long enough.”
“Yeah, okay.” I wiped my mouth on a napkin and balled it between my palms. “Hey, Dad, I was thinking. Remember the ’74 Camaro Mr. Brewster brought into the shop the other day?”
“I do. A classic. Needed a new carburetor, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, and its grille was shot, the upholstery torn up, and it could use a paint job. But that’s all it would take to make it pretty sweet again.”
Dad grinned. “That’s all, eh?”
“I asked him about it, and he said there was no one local to do the work.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Well…the business is doing pretty well. Maybe it’s time for an expansion.”
“To restoration?”
“Yeah. Mr. Brewster was saying there’re a lot of classic cars in town, but they got to go up to San Jose or San Francisco for any body work.”
Dad sipped from his beer glass. “It’s a completely different ball of wax and a huge undertaking. We’d have to build a new garage, buy the proper tools, develop relationships with parts sellers, hire new people…”
“We can afford to do all that. And I’ll help. I’d love to work on it.”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Mom said, smiling softly.
“I don’t know the first thing about car restoration.” Dad pointed a breadstick at me. “And neither do you.”
