I laughed. “You are dreaming, old man.” I practically sprinted back to Daniel’s Jeep.
Dad was right behind me, Daniel’s presence in the corner equally forgotten by him. “Since when do you run from a simple battery change?”
“Simple? Really? You actually said that with a straight face.” Dad had sicced a Stratus on me once before and I still had nightmares about it. “Didn’t you tell me that Stephen King wroteChristineafter working on a Dodge Stratus?”
Dad rubbed the back of his neck. “I probably made that up.”
“Dad. No.” I laughed again. “No. The battery is wedged up under the driver’s side bumper. I’d have to jack it, take off the tire and the inner fender skirt just to reach it.”
“See? Simple, you already know what to do.”
“Yeah, leave the evil cars to my infinitely more patient father.”
More neck rubbing from Dad, and a little smiling. “You’re always telling me you like getting your hands dirty.”
Yeah, but there was getting my hands dirty and there was ripping my nails off trying to pry a battery from the cold dead hands of a Dodge Stratus.
I held my ground. Or more accurately Daniel’s Jeep.
“I guess if you really don’t want it—”
“I do not. I super do not.” I was aware of Daniel moving up behind me and brightened. “Plus, I need to finish up here. I’m trying to talk him into retrofitting his Jeep with an AC.”
Dad’s flat look said he was wise to my scheme, but knew he couldn’t say any more in front of a customer.
I grinned. “Have fun with the Stratus.”
Dad scowled toward the vehicle in question. I knew his look was only half for show, so I took pity on him.
“Fine, I’ll come help when I’m done, but I don’t like you anymore.”
Dad’s grin put mine to shame. “You don’t like me any less either.”
My smile ran out of gas when it was just Daniel and me alone again. He had the strangest look on his face, like I was an alien species or something equally foreign. It was more unsettling than the look he’d given me when I told him my age. How could what he witnessed with me and Dad be worse?
“Sorry about that,” I said. “If you’d ever worked on a Dodge Stratus before, you’d understand.”
Except the look he gave me said he wouldn’t.
“So it’s just you and your dad here?”
“Right now, yeah. There’s another guy who comes in during the cooler months to help when all the tourists are here.” I circled Daniel’s Jeep, squatting ostensibly to check each tire as I passed. “It’s actually more fun when it’s just me and my dad, no offense to Lou, but he doesn’t appreciate the Whitaker humor.” I shrugged and stepped back.
The brakes had been whisper quiet on the test drive, and even Daniel admitted that the initial smoke had been barely perceptible.
“Well, you’re welcome,” I said, feeling constrained by the overly polite conversation.
The noise had picked up out front as lunch-hour traffic filled the streets. I listened to it while Daniel ran his uninjured hand through his hair and then forced both into his pockets. I did not like the smile he gave me after glancing toward the door Dad had disappeared into.
I wanted to pretend I didn’t know what that smile meant, but I did. I liked that his hair was so inky black that it looked like nothing, like in a picture except the artist forgot to color it in. I liked the way he was still sort of surprised every time he smiled. I really liked that he understood why I’d rather sleep on top of my roof than under it.
I liked Daniel. Or I was starting to.
Was it better or worse that he seemed disappointed too?
He pushed off from the wall and walked toward his Jeep. “I should get going. Thanks for the brake pads.” When he opened his door, he paused and met my eye. “I guess I’ll see you around, Jill.”
Neither of us believed him.
