She slides Amelia’s head off her lap, gently laying it on the couch cushion, then stands and walks into the main lobby, where she starts to pace. “A week. Maybe more.” She’s not talking to me, only to herself. Her head shakes over and over.
I follow behind her. “How can I help?”
“I was hoping to be long south of here by day’s end. I thought maybe we’d go to Florida. Amelia would love Disney World. And she’s always wanted to go to the beach.”
I think of the random cars we have out in the warehouse. Cars totaled by insurance companies that were signed over to us by the owners and we’ve restored to working condition to sell at deep discounts. But then I look over at Amelia, who’s napping soundly despite the noise coming from the game show on the television. No, that’s not an option. None of them have the safety standards Kenna would want for her daughter.
“Maybe you could rent a car? We have room to store yours after it’s repaired. You know, until you can come back and pick it up.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t rent a car.”
I raise my brow in concern, wondering if that means she has no money or no credit cards.
“I’m only twenty-four,” she adds. “You have to be twenty-five to rent a car. Besides…”
Her words trail off as I do quick math in my head. Was she a teenager when she had Amelia? Seems I’m finding out we have more and more in common.
“Besides what?”
“Nothing. I just can’t rent a car is all.”
“What about going back to the city?”
“No.”
It’s only one short word. But from the way she says it, I understand it isnotan option.
“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but there are two hotels in town. They’re never full.”
She leans against a stack of tires. “I don’t suppose they’d rent me a room for cash and no questions asked?”
As if she didn’t have my attention before, she sure as hell has it now. Something is definitely going on with her.
“I’m not sure. But you can always call and ask.” I give her the names of the hotels and then step away to give her privacy.
When Dax comes in from the garages and calls out Mr. Kensington’s name, Amelia wakes up, looking scared because her mom isn’t there. I shoot Dax an annoyed glare and walk over to the girl. “Hey, pumpkin. Your mom is right over there on the phone.”
She wipes her eyes with small fists. “Did you fix our car?”
I chuckle at the innocence of her question. “Not quite yet. I had to order some parts that won’t be here for a while.”
“What’s a while? After lunch? Do you have Chick-fil-A?”
I look at the clock, noting it is nearly lunchtime. “We’ve got something much better than Chick-fil-A. We have Donovan’s.”
“What’s Donovan’s? Do they have faffle fries?”
Damn this kid is adorable. “You know, I’m not sure. But I know the owners and the cook, and I’m positive they could come up with some.”
“Mommy! The man says there’s a place with faffle fries better than Chick-fil-A.”
“It’s waffle fries, baby. With a ‘w’.”
I lean in close when Kenna appears at my side. “I kind of like faffle fries better. Has a nice ring to it.”
“Can we go? Please?” Amelia begs, drawing out that last word in the cutest way only little kids can.
Kenna looks lost. “I, um… Mr. Cruz was just trying to be nice, Amelia.”
