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“You think your parents will want to be more involved?” Jake asked carefully.
“Now that he has a criminal record?” He didn’t, but my parents wouldn’t see it that way. An arrest, a charge, even if it was as a juvenile, was enough to condemn him in their mind. “I’m sure they’ll see him as an extension of me. Another fucked-up kid to be embarrassed by.”
I’d hoped for more for Corey. I wanted to support him in whatever he wanted to do, not making my love conditional on his choices, but I hadn’t expected this. That he’d be a troublemaker like I was. Where had I gone wrong?
Jake glanced over at me, then back to the road. “I don’t know. It might be good for you both to mend fences with your parents.”
“Have you lost your mind?” My dad told me when I left home, I wasn’t welcome back unless I wanted to go to college.
Jake shrugged. “I’m just saying, things change. People change.”
“My parents haven’t.” I reached out to them when Tiffany got pregnant, and it only meant more disappointment.
I cringed, remembering their reaction. All they cared about was that we’d barely graduated high school before I’d gotten a girl pregnant. They weren’t interested in meeting their grandchild. They still pushed for me to go to college, but I needed to get a job to support her and the baby. It didn’t make sense to wait four years or make her support me while I went to school. My parents couldn’t understand that. Tiffany and the baby were my responsibility.
Jake pulled into the garage’s lot. “It’s been twelve years. Just promise me you’ll keep an open mind.”
“If they want to see Corey, I’ll think about it.” It was so unlikely, I wasn’t worried.
As I got out of Jake’s truck, a surge of pride hit my chest. All of this was ours. The remodeled garage with our name on the top,Harbor Garage & Service Repair Center.I finally owned something I was proud of, even if my parents didn’t think it was a worthy pursuit. No matter what they said, I was a business owner. It had to be a success for Jake, me, and Corey. There was a lot riding on it.
Jake’s younger sister was a distraction I didn’t need. Jake warned me off her when we were teenagers. It hadn’t mattered much back then, but now, I didn’t want to do anything to hurt our friendship or business relationship. The fact that Corey was the one who broke into his sister’s store was already a source of tension between us. The last thing I needed was to be thinking ofhissister as anything other thanmysister, too.
Besides, he wanted someone better for her, and I didn’t blame him. Other than the garage and Corey, I didn’t have much to show for my life.
“You heading out?” Jake tipped his head toward my motorcycle parked under the roof of the garage.
“Corey has practice, and then the coaches were going to show the kids around the weight room, so I can stick around, and get a head start on what parts we’ll need for the next few weeks.”
Jake nodded and led the way to the door, unlocked it, and stepped inside. We were closed on Sundays, but we worked most days.
We had separate offices, but they were small. I booted up my computer, then brewed some coffee in our tiny kitchen area. Eventually, we’d get a receptionist to greet customers and make appointments, but we couldn’t justify it yet. So, I made coffee each morning and made sure we had the parts and supplies we needed to get through each week.
Jake managed the financial side, keeping the books and handling the schedule.
I didn’t mind being hands on. I liked knowing what parts we had in stock and how long it would be until we could get more. I felt knowledgeable and competent when I spoke with a customer. It made me feel good.
Each step pushed me further away from my parents’ beliefs that I wouldn’t amount to anything. I didn’t have a degree, but I’d make the garage something worthy of people’s respect, even if I’d never get theirs.
After a few hours, I closed my computer, rubbing my eyes. I cleaned the coffee mug in the sink and then paused at Jake’s doorway, where he held his head in his hand.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I was just looking at the cash flow projections.”
Jake was stressed and worried we wouldn’t break even soon, much less make a profit.
Unease settled in my stomach. “It’s good to know what’s going on, but staring at the numbers doesn’t change anything.”
He looked up at me. “What if we don’t make it?”
That question sucked the air out of my lungs. I hated to think about the possibility. “But what if we do?”
The goal was to add more services as we grew. Jake’s specialty was restoring old vehicles and fancy bodywork. He was insistent there was a market for both in historic Annapolis, and I believed him. But occasionally, he had doubts. It was my job to make him see the possibilities when he was down.
He gestured at the spreadsheet on his screen. “The numbers don’t lie.”
The accountant suggested making a cash flow spreadsheet, which was essentially projections of income and expenses based on what we’re doing now. He’d said we should be steadily growing.
