Page 9 of Second Chance

Either way, the flat tire is not the problem. Pa’s estimation they can even out the bent fender without replacing anything, generous to say the least, remains the issue.

Around one, Tony gets called into the office to go over the estimate with Sean and his friends. By now, they’ve all got their phones out. Sean animatedly describes the accident to Lily, who’s filming him as he speaks. It’s become a herd of deer Sean only narrowly avoided, saving their lives in the process. Valiantly, Tony tries not to judge them. Sean’s hands are still shaking, and Lily looks about ready to fall asleep in her seat. Their friend stares out the window, totally silent. Tony wonders idly which of the two guys might be Lily’s boyfriend, the one who was supposed to take her to therapy this morning.

Maybe making dumb videos is a good alternative to therapy. Everyone processes stressful shit differently. Tony hopes they’re not posting this online. Gianna’s shown him a few TikToks. He thought they were funny. Car accidents are not funny in Tony’s book, but how they process the event is up to them.

When they see him approach, they put their phones away hurriedly, which is both funny and sad. Tony’s really, really not that old.

He gives Sean the estimate. It makes him wince but not panic, so he’ll probably be fine. Tony takes down Sean’s parents’ insurance, which they thankfully put him on when he got his license, but he never asked about, and passes it on to Carl. This means Carl can leave, Kyle can relax, and they can all get some work done.

Lunch gets shifted to 3:00 p.m., when Tony’s finally done with the pickup he was working on before the invasion of the college students. Said students haven’t left the storefront and, instead, are now watching loud videos on their phones. Tony doesn’t particularly want to end up going viral for the way he eats a ham and cheese, so he has lunch in the shop, leaning against the table with the coffee machine while Pa and Kyle work.

“Your ma packed you an egg salad sandwich.” Pa eyes Tony’s clearly-not-egg-salad when he gets off his welding mask.

“Sorry,” Tony says with his mouth full. “Should have told her I wouldn’t be home.” It slipped his mind last night when the evening got late enough that the drive home to Kingston sounded less appealing than sleeping in Daniel’s warm, comfortable bed. Anyway, Tony doesn’t like egg salad much.

Pa shrugs. “More for me. You getting your sandwiches made for you over in Rhinebeck now?”

Kyle pulls off his welding mask and looks between them. The question is writ large on his face, but he doesn’t ask it, bless him.

Tony takes another bite. “I can put some ham and cheese between bread myself, thanks.” Asking Daniel to make him lunch would be—bizarre. They did make their lunches together last night, standing side by side in the kitchen, handing each other condiments and plastic packaging while Daniel complained about its effect on the environment. It makes Tony ache somewhere in his gut, but that’s also not something he’s about to express to his father.

“I didn’t mean…” Pa starts, and then he sighs and shakes his head. “Whatever. So long as you’re not hungry.”

“Nope. All good.” Tony keeps his tone light, but it niggles at him even more when he has to go out and handle the transactionwith Sean, Lily, and their friend (his name’s Frank, “like Frank Ocean,” which doesn’t mean anything to Tony). With college starting up again, Gianna only works two shifts a week so she can attend classes, and when she is at the shop, she’s always got Lia with her. As a result, Tony picks up extra shifts so someone can cover the front desk, and for some reason, “someone” is always him.

It’s those darn people skills. Pa gets grumpy if he has to talk to too many customers, and Kyle straight up doesn’t talk.

All told, Tony only gets around to giving his own car the oil treatment it’s been after at five, and it’s six thirty before he manages to finish up all the paperwork for the day. Kyle’s long gone, and the temperature in the lot has gotten less oppressive. The AC still hums away, blasting cold air through reception and the garage.

Tony struggles out of the coveralls he hates wearing and dumps them in the hamper. It’s getting full; it’s a good thing tomorrow is one of Ma’s workdays, or Tony would have to ferry the laundry home too.

“Pa?” he calls into the garage. “You good to close up?”

“Yeah.” Pa’s voice is distant and muffled.

He’s under Mrs. Cooper’s goddamn car.

Tony closes his eyes. “I checked the undercarriage. Put it on the clipboard and everything.”

“I know.” Pa rolls out from under the car and struggles to his feet. “Dropped a screw; it rolled under. Don’t give me that look, Tony.”

“No look,” Tony lies.

Pa shakes his head.

Irritation claws up Tony’s throat sharply. He spent all day caught between customers and the shop. He’s hungry and tired and late for his evening plans, and he’s doing it all so Pa can run the shop without hurting himself, so Kyle can work without being fussed at, so Carl can keep towing every idiot in the state, and so Gianna can finish her degree in peace. All he gets for it are veiled comments about his personal life and Pa ignoring the one request Tony actually makes of him.

Pa claps a heavy hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Good work today. Couldn’t do it without you.”

“Thanks.” From somewhere, Tony manages to conjure up a smile. He lets his shoulders relax, tries to swallow down the frustration. He’s not entirely successful.

“You coming home tonight?” Pa doesn’t deal in heavy-handed hints or subtext. He sounds like he just wants to know. It still grates at Tony’s nerves.

“Probably not,” he says.

Chapter Two

Mike’s isn’t too crowded when Tony finally gets there. It figures, given school is in session again and the tourists have all gone home. Weeknights in Kingston are not hopping.

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