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I stand back with Jackson as Jason starts the car and reverses onto the driveway, then opens the hood and pokes around inside. Jackson and I don’t pretend to know what he’s looking at, or for, so we stand together and wait for the verdict.
“Have you heard anything from Gia?” Jackson asks.
The phone I’m clutching in my hand, now holding a low charge, is as silent as ever.
“No. And when I called again five minutes ago, it went straight to voicemail.”
Jackson frowns, and he must know I’m not in the right frame of mind because he doesn’t crack a joke to lighten the mood. “Try again in another five minutes.”
Jason closes the hood and sticks his head in the car to shut it off. “More good news,” he announces, wiping his hands on a rag as he joins us. “The engine seems completely fine, but when you bring it in, they’ll run diagnostics to see for sure.”
The knot in my chest loosens by another minuscule amount, but compared to the tension held in my body, it’s barely noticeable.
“And the bad news?”
Jason grimaces. He knows how tumultuous our relationship with Dario is, knows this will cause him to lose his shit, but he’s still staying calm and steady like he always does, still being my rock.
“You’re going to need major front body work, a new bumper, and a new windshield.”
“And a new garage door,” Jackson adds, as if he can’t stop himself.
Jason glares at him. “Again, your keen observations are much appreciated, Jackson.”
I knew it wouldn’t be good. I could tell from all the debris and the crumpled look.
If we had a regular relationship with our father, he’d be pissed, yeah, but maybe I wouldn’t be feeling like I’m suffocating under the weight of my anxiety. Maybe if our relationship was normal, I’d be able to call him, explain what happened, get him to tell Gia she’s not in trouble and to come back home. But that would never happen.
Jason’s eyes narrow at my mouth, and I rip my fingers from them.
“How much is that going to cost?” I ask.
Jason mulls it over. He was so worried when I called and told him what had happened. He didn’t even get to shower after work since I called him when Jackson was just picking him up from his shift, and they came straight here.
Jason did, however, rush to me before he even glanced at the mess in the garage, which is really hard to ignore. He held my face gently in his hands and tilted it every which way, assessing the bruising that was already blooming on my pale skin. He asked me if I was okay and how I was feeling, and his gentleness and worry over my well-being, something no one has ever showed and I’m not used to, brought tears to my eyes, which I then had to assure Jason had nothing to do with my pain level, which made me tear up more.
“I’m not sure,” Jason says, answering my question. “If you guys bring it into my shop, I’d convince my boss to only charge for parts at cost since I’d work on it. Can’t tell you what that would be off the top of my head. And as for the garage door, I have no idea. We’d have to call a few places and get a couple quotes.”
I blow out a breath. Here he is on a Friday at ten thirty at night dealing with my sister’s fuckup when he’s probably tired from school and work, and he’s even volunteering to fix the car for free.
“You don’t have to work on the car for free,” I tell him, but he sends me a look that makes me snap my mouth shut and leaves no room for argument.
“When does your dad come home from that work trip?” Jackson asks. “Maybe we can get this all cleaned up and fixed before he’s back. He’ll never have to know.”
If I could pull off getting everything fixed and replaced before Dario comes back and hope he never notices, I would.
“Tomorrow morning,” I answer solemnly. “Plus, my aunt is watching us while he’s away, and she’ll be home from work in a few hours probably.”
I almost want to release a pitiful laugh. Not only did Zia Stella, the only adult who didn’t make me feel like a completely unwanted burden, learn the truth about Stan, but she’s going to come home from an emergency at work, where she probably saved someone’s life, to find her youngest niece ran away from home after driving her brother’s luxury car through his house. If she wasn’t already on the verge of losing it from the Stan revelation and our lies, she’s definitely going to have a full-on meltdown when she gets home now.
Jackson winces. “Shit.”
Shitindeed. At this point, there’s nothing I can do but resign myself to my fate. Dario’s going to lose it, and I wonder if he’ll consider letting Gia come back if I manage to convince her to come home once she answers my calls.
Probably not, and there’s no way I’m staying here without Gia. Maybe after Gia confesses to Florence, she’ll let me stay with her, as long as I’m useful to her and agree to whatever new part she’ll come up with for me in the revised documentary. I shudder at the thought. I’d rather beg Warren to let me pay whatever pitiful rent I can scrape up to stay in his guest house than agree to Florence’s exploitation.
Jason’s the first to fill the heavy silence. “Why don’t we try to clean up as much as we can to minimize the initial shock factor? Get the car in the shop, clean up the glass and debris, move the paneling. At least it won’t lookashorrible when the adults see it.”
I appreciate what he’s doing for me, though I don’t think it will make any difference. But it’s a plan, and it keeps me focused on something other than worrying about Gia and our future. It’s something I can control.
