Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Even as it became clear it wasn’t my worst fear come to life, my paranoia refused to allow me to relax as he took a few steps up the driveway with something in his hand.
“Didn’t mean to freak you out,” he called, waving a hand in greeting. “My son just wanted me to look at his sink,” he added.
Son.
As soon as he said it, I could see it.
The same height, frames, bone structure.
This man was what I imagined Seth would look like in another twenty-five years.
Which meant he was hot with that little bit of gray streaked in his hair and endearing eye crinkles.
“Oh, okay,” I said, relaxing, noticing how Isaac did as well, his hand finally releasing his sister’s arm. “Hi, I’m Lana,” I said, taking a few steps forward, offering him my hand.
“Repo,” he said, and I tried as hard as I could not to react to such a strange-ass name. “Are you renting the flat?” he asked.
“Yes. We moved in yesterday,” I said. “He couldn’t figure out the sink, huh?”
“Can’t claim I know much more about it than he does, but I figure it’s the dad’s place to at least grunt at it and tighten and loosen some shi— stuff,” he corrected himself at the last second.
“That’s been my way of handling the clanking noise my car has been making,” I agreed.
“Clanking?” he asked. “From under the hood or chassis?”
“Oh, ah, from the front of the car, but not the engine,” I said. “I was not seeking car advice, I promise,” I said.
“Could be the struts,” he said, putting down his toolbox right to the side of Hazel’s lopsided butterfly. “Lot of potholes around lately. Can fuc—screw with them,” he said, catching himself again, this time with a little grin. “I’ll take a quick look,” he said, already making his way toward the car.
“No, please, I can’t ask that.”
“Don’t remember you asking,” he said, still walking.
“Really, it’s not necessary.”
But it was pointless trying to insist, because the man was already rounding the front of my car, pulling a flashlight off of his keychain as he got down on the ground, then inched under.
It seemed like stubbornness was part of the family genes. But, I guess, you couldn’t fault them for it when the stubbornness was rooted in do-gooding.
“Go ahead,” I said softly to Hazel as she gazed longingly at her half-finished, very phallic-looking, mushroom.
Isaac’s attention, though, was on the man under the car.
I felt guilty sometimes that he didn’t have someone around that did those manly sorts of things with him. Sure, he was young, but I imagined a lot of little boys his age handed their dads tools and stuff like that.
It wasn’t like he ever had it with his biological dad. And now it seemed like he might never have it at all.
Maybe I needed to invest in a tool kit and learn to do some basic house repairs, so I could show it to Isaac.
“Hey, little man,” Repo called as he shimmied out from under the car, then went to stand near the hood. “Do you know how to pop the trunk?” he asked. Isaac shook his head. “There’s a little black lever right inside the door where your mom sits. Near the floor. Has a picture of a car on it with the hood open. Pull that.”
Isaac, clearly excited to be given such an important task, rushed to do so, eyes bright when it clicked open.
“Good job. Wanna hold this flashlight for me?” Repo asked.
He didn’t need the help, but he must have picked up on Isaac’s curiosity, and just rolled with it.
God, where did these men come from?
And why weren’t there more of them?
“Definitely the struts, but you also need some fluids topped off, and a check-over on the brakes. I can swing by with the tow truck later. Or I can drive it over now if you don’t have any plans.”
Oh, God.
No.
I couldn’t afford just the struts, let alone the possible brakes. Hell, I wasn’t even sure an oil change was in the realm of possibilities.
“Oh, ah, actually, I just don’t like being without a car. You know, with three kids,” I said, waving toward them.
“You can keep mine for the day,” he said, shrugging as he handed Isaac the keys. “I’ll just pop out the carseats,” he said, going toward the backseat to do just that.
“No, please. Mr… Repo,” I said as I rushed closer. “You’re supposed to be looking at Seth’s sink, not my car.”
“Figure if he knew your car was having problems, he wouldn’t have even mentioned the sink,” Repo said, unclipping Isaac’s seat.
“Look, I can’t…”
“Hey,” he called, voice soft as he looked over his shoulder at me. “Stop,” he said, lowering his voice even more so that the eavesdropping Isaac couldn’t hear. “I’m going to fix your car. And you’re not going to worry about it.”