Page 47 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

I closed my eyes. It wasn’t catastrophic, and somehow that almost made it worse. Catastrophic meant impossible. Impossible meant I could be angry and move on to another solution. This was technically possible.

And possible meant figuring out what else didn’t get paid.

“What does that include?”

“Water pump, belt, tensioner, coolant, labor. I’m also seeing wear on the front brakes and a leak around one of the hoses, but neither has to be done today.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not just saying that because you think I can’t afford it?”

Silence.

Then, “No.”

I sat back.

“You asked for the real price. That’s the real price.”

Something in my chest eased. Not because I liked the number. Because he’d listened.

“Okay.”

“We can do the necessary repairs now and deal with the rest later.”

“How much later?”

“Brakes? I’d rather not see you wait more than a month. The hose gives us some room, but I’ll show you what I’m looking at when you come in.”

“When?”

“The truck won’t be ready today. Parts should arrive tomorrow.”

I glanced toward the bills. “I can come by this morning.”

A pause.

“Thought you didn’t let strangers drive you.”

“I’ll take Meme’s Camry.”

His laugh came through the phone, and I smiled before I could stop myself. “I’ll be here,” he said. “Come whenever.”

“See you soon.” I ended the call before I could say anything stupid. Then I stared at the phone in my hand. This was ridiculous, I wasn’t seventeen. A man’s voice should not make me smile at an unpaid electric bill.

“Absolutely not,” I muttered to myself.

I gathered the paperwork and shoved it far into the desk drawer.

Chapter

Seven

CARSON

Sunlight spilled across the concrete when I pulled into Jones Automotive an hour later. The lot looked different without rain pouring through the open bays, the rays catching on chrome tools and the collection of old signs mounted along the building. Someone had placed three pumpkins beside the front office steps since yesterday.