Page 7 of Roll With The Punches
We were, until she said she wished I would give Corey another chance. She blew it. Again. Do I have to call her?
Totally your decision. I told you that.
I’ll think about it. I’ll text you when I get home. Can Grace come home with me today? We need to study.
If her parents say yes.
They did. Thanks. Love you.
Brandon smiled. Somehow, he’d lucked out and she hadn’t turned on him yet.
Or maybe Tracey’s antics had given Emma a litmus test when comparing Brandon to Tracey.
Love you, too. See you when I get home.
Grace didn’t drive yet. She was three months younger than Emma and had just turned sixteen, but her eyesight was bad due to her being born prematurely. Plus being a very thin and frail-looking five two, she could barely see over the steering wheel and reach the pedals. Compared to Emma’s five seven and strong, lithely muscled swimmer’s build, Grace appeared tiny and fragile.
Grace still felt very nervous when behind the wheel during driving lessons, and wasn’t eager to get her full license yet. So either Brandon, her parents, or Emma drove Grace around. Well, and Jeff and Stuart now, since Grace’s parents had met them and signed off on it.
In fact, the five of them—and the two girls—frequently had family dinner nights together. He’d wondered at first if Grace’s parents would have a problem with their blended poly family, but they hadn’t.
What Grace lacked in physicality, she more than made up for with her brain and personality. Sweet, wicked smart, and with an incredibly funny and snarky sense of humor, she usually had all of them cracking up at the dinner table.
Brandon, Jeff, and Stuart had already sworn to Grace’s father to help him put a serious hurting on any boy who broke Grace’s heart, but so far, like Emma, she seemed dedicated to her studies when the two girls weren’t doing stuff together.
* * * *
It was a little after one in the afternoon, and Jeff had just finished working on his latest vehicle when his cell phone rang from its resting place on top of his toolbox.
Emma’s custom tone.
That was extremely unusual. She never called him at work. He peeled off his work glove to answer it. “Hey, kiddo. What’s up?”
“You know how you said you were going to teach me how to change a tire on my car?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we do that right now? We came out to drive home after class, and I’ve got a flat.”
The dealership he worked at was only ten minutes from her school. He could be there a lot faster than making her call AAA and waiting for them, and both Stuart and Brandon were much farther away.
“Sure, honey. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be right over.”
When he arrived, the student parking lot was almost completely empty, making it easy to find the girls. To Emma’s credit, she’d already removed the spare, jack, and tire iron from the trunk, and had them lying on the ground next to the front driver’s side tire.
“Did you feel anything this morning when you drove it? Was the steering wheel pulling or pulsing or anything?”
“A little, but only on the way to swimming. After swimming, it was rush hour traffic, and the pool’s only a couple of minutes from here. I barely got up to thirty then.”
He really didn’t have time to let her change the tire herself with his supervision, so he did it for her. Ten minutes later, he had the donut on, lug nuts tightened, and her tire in the back of his truck. He’d take it to the dealership and fix the leak, a roofing nail that had gotten embedded in it.
“There you go. I’ll put this one back on when I get home.”
Despite him being all sweaty and dirty from work, Emma still threw her arms around him to hug him. “Thank you! I love you.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Love you, too, kiddo. Send me a text when you get home so I know you made it.”
“I will.”
