ONE
Riley
When I bought my car a few weeks ago, I didn’t think I’d have to take it to the shop three times in a two-week time frame. Seriously. This is why I struggle when it comes to committing to things. Obviously, something is up with my car selection skills.
“Well, Riley,” Dubs, our local mechanic, says as he peeks out from under the hood of the old Toyota Camry. “Not sure if it’s your alternator, could be your radiator, but I’m going to need to keep it today to run some tests.”
“First, you can’t get it to start, then three out of four tires go flat, and now it's a mystery problem.” Beside me, my best friend, Dylan, wraps an arm around my shoulder. “You, my friend, have terrible CAR-ma.”
Using my elbow, I nudge her in the ribs and bite back a laugh. I’m way too irritated to giggle, even if it is a good pun.
“What?” she exclaims, throwing her hands in the air with mock haughtiness. “Was that not good enough for you?”
Fine. I crack a smile, pulling my lips tight into a thin line. I try to show some teeth, but my lips rebel, quivering and contorting into what must look like an exaggerated grimace.
“Don’t even know if I can honor the friends and family discount with that face,” Dubs teases. “Whatisthat?”
Now, I’m laughing. “You guys, let me be mad for a second, okay?”
“No way,” Dylan calls over her shoulder as she heads to the back office, motioning for me to follow her. “We don’t do anger here at Dubs’ Garage. I think it’s a house rule.”
I walk into the confined space where Dylan works a few hours each week, keeping the books for her dad’s garage. They’ve been getting busier, so she’s been spending more time here, evidenced by her emergency medical technician uniform piled in the corner.
“Doing double duty today?”
She nods, inclining her head toward the desk. “As soon as I get through the last batch of bills and call you a Hitch to get you to the bookshop, I’m out.”
I hold my hands up to protest. “You don’t need to do that, I have some capabilities. I can use the app and request a ride through Hitch to get to work on my own.”
Swiping her phone off the desk, she shakes her head. “No way. Third time in two weeks you’ve been here, girl. Let us take care of your Hitch because you’re certainly paying a lot of our bills this month.”
She snickers as she pulls up the app on her phone, taps it a few times, then puts it down in triumph. “Ronaldo will be picking you up in his little white Fiat in less than five minutes.”
“Ronaldo, huh? I hope he’s Italian and smoking hot.” Straightening my shirt, I point my thumb over my shoulder to the front door. “Did you tell him to meet me out front of the shop?”
“No. I suggested you two meet down the block at the laundromat.” Dylan rolls her eyes. “Of course he knows to come here. You know how it works. You’ve gotten a shared ride before.”
“Oh shush, I’ve been thrown off my game today.” I pull my wallet out of my purse and wave it in the air. “Do you guys need my credit card now?”
“Nope. Just go meet Ronaldo and his little white Fiat.” She points behind me. “Your chariot awaits…or at least, it will soon.”
“Ha,” I say, leaning across the desk to hug my friend. “I’ll talk to you later.”
I make my way out of the office and navigate through the garage past the cars that are currently under Dubs’ care. Passing by my little red Camry, I kiss my hand and tap the hood, saying a silent goodbye and praying it works again soon. Nothing is worse than buying a car and then having it stop working right after you sign the papers of ownership.
A distant ring catches my attention. Looking around as I step out onto the street, I realize it’s my phone and the sound is coming from inside my purse. Shaking my head, I dig around in my bag until I find the thing, then pull it out and press it to my ear without looking. Dangerous, I know. I answer it in my new way because I’m determined that this is my year. I’m going to be a serious professional in all the things.
Well, fingers crossed.
“This is Riley.”
The chuckle on the other end is way too familiar. “So, my baby sister announces herself now?”
“Yes, Travis, I do. Now that I’m sinking my savings into a catering business, I figure it’s only smart to begin a conversation in a positive way…unlike how this one is going now,” I finish, cracking up. “How are you?”
“Crazy busy. And you? Besides being a consummate professional as you keep insisting.”
“I’m irked, that’s how I am.” Sighing, I look up and down the street to keep an eye out for Ronaldo and that Fiat. “My car’s back in the shop, I’m late to work, and Mom needs me to have the menu ready by the end of the week for the dinner she has me doing.”
