Avery held up a small metal component between two fingers. “This is the replacement part they sent, but it doesn’t fit.”
My eyes slid shut. “They sent us the wrong part? For God’s sake.”
“No, it’s worse than that,” Dad explained. “They discontinued manufacturing the original for this model a long time ago.”
“So what we need, they’re not making anymore?” I opened my eyes for the sole and express purpose of narrowing them at him. “Is that really what you’re saying?”
“Yes.” Avery tossed the now useless part onto a workbench and dragged both hands through his hair. “I’ve called around and no one has one of these parts available, but the size difference means that using one manufactured for a newer model isn’t going to work as a replacement.”
Theo cocked a hip against the bench, not looking like he quite understood that we were discussing the mechanical equivalent of organ failure. That dark hair swept slightly across one side of his forehead, his eyes relaxed and bright.
“On the upside, I’ve learned a lot about patience recently,” Theo said. “We could just keep calling around and hope that eventually someone has what we need.”
“That’s unlikely,” I said, giving it to him straight. “You’re taking this news exceptionally well for someone who might not leave here with a working bike.”
He inhaled deeply. “I’m trying to work on accepting the things I cannot change.”
Dad dropped onto the corner of the workbench with a grim expression on his face. The second I saw it, my heart started aching for Theo. I knew that expression, and it never brought good news. “The only thing you have to accept is that without this specific component, there’s no easy way to get the bike running again.”
“Noeasyway,” Theo repeated, emphasizing the word. “That means there is still a way?”
“Yeah,” Avery said. “Ifwe can figure something else out, but if not, your bike is done.”
Theo swallowed so hard, the elegant column of his throat moved up and down. “When you saydone…”
Avery pointed at the pile of scrap metal outside the bay doors. “I mean done, as in, it’s toast. It’ll be joining that graveyard over there. Or you could sell it for parts or make it a lawn ornament, I suppose.”
“No way,” Theo said without skipping a beat, his head shaking hard and fast from one side to the other. “We’ll fix it. We have to.”
“That machine is older than some governments,” I said. “Are you really so attached to it that you won’t even consider a new one?”
“I am,” he admitted, completely shameless about it. “It’s a classic.”
“Yeah, but classic also means rare. And they’re rare because they’re too old to keep running.” I swiped sweat from my brow. “Replacement parts are hard to find.”
He shook his head again. “Martha isn’t done. You’ll see. She’s going to surprise us all.”
Dad clapped him on the shoulder before he started backing out. “Speaking of things that are too old to keep running, I’m going inside to sit for a bit. But, Theo, if anyone can help you figure it out, it’s these two. They’re the best chance you’ve got. Good luck, kids.”
Once he was gone, Avery slid his hands into his pockets as he eyed the part still lying on the workbench. “A fix isn’t impossible. It’ll be complicated and it might not hold forever, but we can try to figure out some kind of workaround.”
“What about your friend?” Theo asked. “The one you said specialized in these bikes?”
I grimaced. “Phil is good. He’s great, actually, but he’s also by the book. Creative engineering isn’t really his thing.”
“If we call him about this, he’s going to tell you to sell and buy something newer,” Avery finished for me. “He’ll offer to help you find a buyer and he will find one, but he won’t try to fix this. Not with the actual part we need no longer available anywhere.”
When I glanced back at Theo, there was a stubborn gleam in his eyes, something that told me he was serious about not letting this bike go. It wasn’t entitlement, though. I doubted he expected us to fix this just because he wanted it done. This looked more like genuine attachment to me.
“It has to be this bike,” he said a moment later. “I know I can buy a new one and I realize Martha might end up being an expensive lawn ornament no matter what, but we can try. I’m willing to do whatever needs to be done to get her back on the road.”
I nodded slowly, finally swiping up the component Avery had dropped on the workbench and turning it over in my hand. Design was one of my passions, and usually, I was pretty good at it. This, however, really would be complicated.
As I mentally weighed the options that sprang to mind, Avery suddenly grinned. “You already have an idea, don’t you?”
“No,” I said before he could give Theo hope where there wasn’t much of it to be had. “I don’t know. Maybe, but even if I do, it probably won’t work.”
I rubbed the metal with grease-streaked fingers, squinting at the part while Avery looked like he was ready to burst into a victory dance. “She has an idea, man. This is great.”
