Page 15 of Prove Me Wrong
Drying my dirty hands on my overalls, I reach for the landline. My eyes glance around the small office with a messy desk full of paper, a torn desk chair haphazardly shoved away, business cards and spare bolts. Rims sit in a corner for the Holden we need to repair tomorrow, a pinboard takes up one wall with a bunch of out-of-date appointment cards and old companies Damon used to deal with, a torn desk chair, and the mini fridge Damon and I use to store our lunches.
“This is Noah,” I say into the receiver, taking a seat in Damon’s chair. It’s soft and way too flexible so I’m not game enough to lean fully against the back. The two of us have a bet that the person who breaks it has to buy a new one, and I don’t want to break that bet. Not that I can’t afford the chair, but it’s been four years and something Damon and I have bonded over. But, also, we do need a new chair…
“Hi, this is Darline. I am just wondering if my Focus is ready to pick up?”
I look out into the garage at the aforementioned Focus that has rudely left a bump on my head.
“Yes, ma’am, it’s ready.”
“Great. I will be there soon.”
The corner of my mouth ticks upwards. “No problem.”
Grabbing the keys from the hook, I move the car into one of the car spots outside with the rest waiting to be collected.
The sun streams down, blinding my eyes as I slam the door closed and lock the car. It’s bright out, and I usually forget how sunny it gets since I’m stuck inside most of the day. Sweet summer air fills my nostrils. It’s warm and fresh, the complete opposite to inside the garage.
“Noah!”
Groaning, I stroll back in to see Damon rolling out from under the car with a torch in his mouth and a spanner in his hand.
I rush over, pulling the torch out. Damon grins widely. “Not as bad as I suspected. Just need some new pads.”
“Cheaper than you quoted.”
Damon uses my hand to help himself up. He’s forty-four and in a mindset that has him believing he’s in his early twenties. Acting like we’re the same age, the only telltale signs are the wrinkles in the corners of his deep blue eyes and the flecks of silver in his hair.
“Focus is getting picked up soon.”
Damon nods, swapping out his spanner. “Same with the Hyundai.”
“I’ll get the invoices ready then,” I say, turning towards the office.
“You can leave after that, Noah.”
My face peers over my shoulder. Damon rubs at the back of his neck. “It’s only three.”
“Yeah, but I know Jade is sick and you’ve been worrying about her all day. Go pick her up and I’ll handle the pick-ups on my own.”
My eyes narrow on his as a smile creeps onto my face. “Is this your way of apologising for scaring me?”
He huffs a gruff laugh. “No. I’ll never apologise for being entertaining. You should try it sometime.”
“I'm fun,” I grit out.
“Says the man who has been grumpy since he walked in here this morning.”
“That’s because of Jade,” I mumble and dig my palms into my eyes. Damon tilts his head at me, and I nod, giving him a small smile. “Thanks.”
Patting my back, he walks me over to the office. “I was a young dad too once, so I know the feeling. I can handle everything. Jade needs you today.”
***
“What do you mean you’re cutting days?” I grunt, crossing my arms over my broad chest.
Cori, one of the daycare workers, tightens her lips. “Jump Start has to drop its opening days from five to three because our funds are too low. We aren’t exactly booming here, and we aren’t receiving any more help for the rest of the year.”
I blink at her. “It’s only April.”
