Page 119 of Push

John laughed. “Sure is, mate.”

“1960?” I asked.

John cocked his head. “It’s a ’62.” His eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled. “You know cars?”

I nodded. “Classics like this? Never had one, but…” I’d dreamed of getting one. Stupid teenage dreams. I ran my fingertips over the mix of sleek red paint and rust on the side panel. “You restoring it?”

“Sure am,” he said. “I need something to keep me out of trouble with theladiesupstairs.”

I grinned. “You working on the engine now?”

“Yeah. Just finished tearing it down, and I’m working my way through what needs to be replaced.” He pointed to the back wall where his neatly arranged tools hung on a corkboard. “Mind passing me the pliers?”

Without thinking, I headed straight for the tools. “You getting the pistons ready for cleaning?” I glanced over my shoulder. Zach hovered by the door. My gaze flitted between the tools and him. I was a terrible guest. “Oh, uh…should I…?”

Zach waved me off. “You’re good. I’m going to head upstairs.” He smiled. “Alfie should finish his nap soon. I’ll hang out with him, reading books and steering clear of the bossy ladies. I’ll grab you guys when lunch is ready.”

“Thanks, man.”

The slap of Zach’s hand was friendly on my shoulder before he disappeared. How much time passed in the garage? No idea. But I had the best time. I worked alongside John, and neither of us said much, focusing instead on examining what needed to be replaced and carefully cleaning anything that could be saved.

After finishing a line of valves, John opened the bar fridge under the bench. I shook my head when he offered me a beer, so he slid a soda along the wood instead. He hooked his sneaker around the leg of a stool and dragged it out for me to sit down.

“What do you do for work?” He pulled out the other stool and leaned his hip into the edge. “A trade?”

“Nah.” I grinned. “Dentist.”

“Sorry to hear that.” He laughed. “You work on cars with your dad?”

“Nah, he wasn’t… Not his thing, you know?”

“Yeah.” He cocked his chin. “Is he a dentist, too?”

“No… He was a… He, um…” Whatever look was on my face told John the words I couldn’t quite spit out.

His face fell. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Why did people always say that?Sorry. Some people might’ve been sorry my father died. Me. His favorite, Tanya. Not my mother. She’d never shed a single tear. The only other person who’d seemed upset by his death was Abi. Ian’s mother was soft-spoken but so bubbly and full of hugs. I’d often daydreamed she was my mum when we were growing up. Had she been my dad’s friend? Had he even had anyrealfriends? Maybe he and I were more alike than I thought.

“That’s okay,” I said with a tight smile. “He passed away a couple of years ago. You and Zach…seem…” Close? Not exactly. Zach looked more uncomfortable in the garage than I’d felt the first time I went to Stroller Squad.

“Zach’s a good man.” John tipped his beer toward me. “I don’t always understand him, but I’m bloody proud all the same.” A suspicious look crossed his face. “You like books?”

“Uh.” I grimaced. “Do magazines count?”

John laughed and clinked his bottle against mine. “To me, yeah.” Silence hung between us as we sipped our drinks. It wasn’t awkward—well, not until he cleared his throat and smashed me with, “You’re the bloke my daughter’s got some doubts about.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. John pulled no punches. “Uh, yeah… That’s probably me.”

“Cheated on your wife, did you?”

“Well, yeah…just…” I gulped a bigger swig of my drink than I should’ve. I almost choked as it burned down my throat. John’s eyes drilled into me. He wanted an answer. “Not like…you know…” Shame made my face flame. “Only a kiss.”

He barked a laugh. “That’s what you tell yourself, huh?” His eyebrow stayed arched as he took another sip of his beer.

My shoulders slumped forward. “It’s the worst decision I’ve ever made.” I blew out a breath. “Actually, it was probably the tipping point of a whole bunch of the worst decisions I’ve ever made.”

John’s nod was slow. “How long?” When my face stayed blank, unsure what he meant, he added, “You and your wife. How long have you been together?”

---