“My brother Jimmy, remember him?”
I nod to Jimmy, but he’s already starting up the blower. “You need to dig her out too,” I say, pointing to the girl’s old Honda Civic hatchback as I hand him the keys. “Let me know what’s wrong with it and I’ll pay. She’s broke.”
“Yeah, OK.” Jason goes over to Jimmy and talks close to his ear so he can hear over the machine, then hands him the keys. “Come on, we’ll go inside and catch up.”
“Well,” Jason says an hour of A Christmas Story and five cups of coffee later. “You’re right. Your tranny’s blown and your coolant system isn’t much better. You need a rebuild and some hoses. Gonna be about a week to get this one done.” He eyeballs me and I know what that means. It’s a week if you want it done at regular rates.
“Well, let me guess, Jason. I can get her back in three days if I just pay you double, right?”
He shrugs. “Us little guys gotta make a living somehow.”
“Please. You are not starving. You own a frontage road garage and the only cheap motel in Vail. And I’ve seen your f**king family compound. So spare me the theatrics. I don’t care how much it costs, just get it done by Monday.”
“Well, that means I gotta start today, though, Ford. And not only is today the Friday after a big f**king blizzard, which means I should be out on the mountain instead of in here working on that piece of shit you’ve been driving since high school, but it’s also a national holiday. So that’s like mandatory triple time, I figure.”
I add up the cost of a transmission rebuild and triple it. “You want six grand to fix the transmission on a truck that probably costs four when she’s running?”
He shoots me a paybacks are a bitch, aren’t they look. “You can junk it, leave it with me. I’ll take care of her for ya.”
I take out my card and flick it at him. “What’s the damage on the girl’s car? Add it in.”
He grunts. “She blew her engine, probably trying to force it up the mountain. But I know a guy down in Copper who specializes in these old Hondas, he’s got a used one. Hundred and two thousand miles on it, fourteen hundred plus tax for him, seven hundred for me, and a hundred-dollar delivery fee. Jimmy’s gotta make some money out of it too. That will not be done by Monday, so she’s stuck here for at least a week.”
“Just ring it up.”
Chapter Eight
I make calls while Jason does the paperwork.
Vail. For an entire weekend. It’s like my bad luck is smiling down on me, saying that’s all I’ll ever have, so get used to it.
The shop door opens and a strong burst of wind throws it backwards, slamming it into the building. The frazzled high-school kid grabs at the door frantically and then pulls it closed behind him. He stomps his boots on the rug near the door and calls over to Jason, “Another storm’s coming and all these f**king tourists will be stuck, whining and complaining that they have no f**king this or no f**king that.” It’s only then that he notices me. “Oh, sorry.”“I’m not a tourist.”
“Right.”
“You have my car?”
“Yeah,” he says with a wince. “I know you ordered a truck or SUV, but sorry, man, this is all we got.” He pans his hand behind him and I strain to see the vehicle through the blowing snow. “My coworker even had to follow me over here in that stupid Ford Focus.”
Jason grunts out a laugh at that, but I ignore him and get up so I can see the vehicle properly.
“A minivan? I said four-wheel drive. I live on f**king Goat Hill.”
“It’s all-wheel drive. Same thing.”
“A lot of good those f**king wheels will do me when it bottoms out in the driveway.”
He shrugs and I drop it. It’s not his fault I’m stuck here. It’s mine. “Fine.” He hands me the keys and I hand him my card, which he runs in a portable device on his phone, and then hands back to me. “You get double bonus points for renting—”
“Yes, thank you,” I say as I take the keys he’s offering. “Jason, we’re on for Monday, then? What time?”
He doesn’t even look up at me, just continues punching something into the computer. “I’ll call you Monday AM and let you know. Do you know where that girl is? I need her to sign the paperwork.”
I grab the pen and sign for her and then push it back across the counter.
Jason gives me a weird look. “OK. Well, tell her I won’t even start working on her new engine until next week sometime, and it’ll take at least a week after that. So, I’m not sure what she’s gonna do—”
“I’ll take care of it.”
I head out, pulling my suit coat around me as a gust of wind barrels across the parking lot, then jog over to the minivan which is, thank God, still warm when I get in.
“Fuck,” I say out loud once I close the door.
I’ve got snow. I’ve got Vail. I’ve got a girl and her baby. I’ve got a past that’s doing its best to catch up with me. I’ve got Rook, who I want to talk to so desperately it actually makes my chest feel funny. And I’ve got a house that’s been winterized for two f**king years, being de-winterized at this very moment, and who the f**k knows if anything works. Hell, maybe all the pipes burst and we have no plumbing.
I rev the engine then put the van in gear and drive forward down the parking lot towards the motel office. I park right in front, leave the van running, and then get out quickly and make for the door. The heat assaults me as soon as I enter and the first thing I hear is Mrs. Pearson trying to gossip over a very fussy and unhappy baby. The girl looks at me, her body swaying slightly to soothe the child and her eyes wide as she subtly motions at the incessant chatter of Mrs. Pearson—like she’s pleading with me to make her shut up. Mrs. Pearson simply continues to talk, directing the conversation to me. I tune her out completely.