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Dad grinned. “That’s all, eh?”
“I asked him about it, and he said there was no one local to do the work.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Well…the business is doing pretty well. Maybe it’s time for an expansion.”
“To restoration?”
“Yeah. Mr. Brewster was saying there’re a lot of classic cars in town, but they got to go up to San Jose or San Francisco for any body work.”
Dad sipped from his beer glass. “It’s a completely different ball of wax and a huge undertaking. We’d have to build a new garage, buy the proper tools, develop relationships with parts sellers, hire new people…”
“We can afford to do all that. And I’ll help. I’d love to work on it.”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Mom said, smiling softly.
“I don’t know the first thing about car restoration.” Dad pointed a bread stick at me. “And neither do you.”
“No, but I could study up on it. After school and on weekends.” I swallowed hard. “And…this summer.”
Dad frowned. “This summer, you’re heading to college, to training camp for whichever school you choose. You won’t have time for something like that.”
Holden’s face floated across my mind with Mom’s words whispering beneath.
What about your heart?
I inhaled to try again but it caught in my throat. Was this the moment? Was tonight the night I imploded my life?
“I like the idea but it’s too much to take on,” Dad said. “Your only job is to concentrate on your college applications.”
“Dad—”
“I’m not touching the business, and that’s final. I don’t want to spend more time away on a new venture.” He reached over and took Mom’s hand. “I’m happy with how things are right now. Let’s not rock the boat.”
The light above our kitchen table was gold and warm. Mom’s smiling face had color to it and her hair was coming back. Amelia happily scrolled through her phone, her smile easy, like it had been.
“You’re right.” I forced my own smile. “Sorry I brought it up.”
“Yo, River.”
Chance, Dante, Mike Grimaldi and Isaiah Washington and a couple other guys surrounded me at my locker at school the next day, the last day before winter break.
“A bunch of us are skipping out for lunch,” Chance said. “You wanna come?”
“Nah, I was thinking about checking out the talent show.”
Donte made a face. “The talent show? Is he for real?”
I shrugged. “A guy from my Calculus class is going to play the violin. Last week I told him I’d watch.”
Chance gaped. “You told some math geek that you’d watch him play the violin?” He snorted a laugh. “That’s the gayest thing I ever heard.”
The back of my neck reddened. I slammed the locker. “I said I’d go, so I’m going.”
I gave Chance my best don’t-fuck-with-me glare. He and Donte exchanged looks and then shrugged.
“Whatever floats your boat, dude.”
