Page 60 of The Liar in Room 5

“Everything okay?”

After the oil change, we stopped for lunch at another local taco place. It had the second-best carne asada in the area but was tops for the churros, and the tortillas were made fresh every day. If I let myself come here every day, I’d die a chubby, happy man. This place was owned by the cousin of the other taco place.

After ordering, we wound our way through colorful cut-outs made of tissue paper and sat at a bistro table near a small fountain in the back. It likely wasn’t intended to be a private place, but it almost felt like we were alone in the busy taqueria.

“Yeah, sorry. I was checking something with Marc.”

“Is Ben okay?”

The fact that Drew asked about him first made me smile. The kiddo, being the excellent judge of character that kids often were, had adored Drew at first sight.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Marc mentioned the other day that he needed to hire someone to take Ben to preschool in the morning.”

Drew immediately perked up when I asked if he’d be interested but then collapsed back into his slouch. “Ugh, I would be.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“I mean… Who wouldn’t want to hang out with Ben? He’s cool, but I’m pretty sure his dad didn’t mean taking him on the bus for hours.”

Ugh. Seeing the light leave his eyes was an absolute punch in the gut.

“You have a license though?”

“Yeah, but without a car, I don’t even get to brag about my no-ticket record.”

The self-deprecating laugh was brittle.

“Then it’s settled. You’ve got yourself a job. Marc said he pays well, but he didn’t say exactly how much. I’d be happy to negotiate for you.” I paused before adding dramatically, “You can tell him to call your lawyer about the terms. We’ll drive a hard bargain.”

“Unfortunately, you won’t be able to practice your lawyering skills to fleece your own brother. Bad Daddy. I don’t own a car and, uh, I’m not likely to be buying one anytime soon.”

“That’s fine. You can borrow mine.”

“You drive yours to work.”

“No, I mean the one we’re going to buy.”

“We’re not.”

“I am.”

“You can’t buy me a car.”

“I am.”

“But…but…but you can’t.”

“I can. However, I’m not a monster. We can argue about the trim if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Do I have a choice in this?”

“About you having reliable transportation to a job you’re going to be kick-ass at? No. But the color is definitely on the table.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not even a little.”

“Daddy…”