Page 25

“No, I—” I start when my phone buzzes on my coffee table. A number I don’t recognize pops up on the screen, and the Petunia Lemon boxes stacked on top of each other wobble nearby.

Saved by the bell, literally.

I don’t usually answer the phone unless I know who’s calling, but since I’m avoiding talking to Keisha and feeling my feelings, having a potentially frustrating conversation with a stranger is a much better option.

“Hello?” I hold the phone against my ear and try to listen through all of the noise coming from the other end of the line. “Hello?”

“Oh yes,” a deep, gruff voice I don’t recognize says. “Is this Emerson…Emerson Pierce?”

“This is she,” I respond, my grandma’s strict phone etiquette instantly reappearing. “May I ask who’s speaking?”

“This is Greg down at Highland Auto Repair, you had your car towed here last night.”

My stomach falls to my toes. I knew this was coming, but I’m not ready to know the cost of my procrastination.

“Oh, yes. Hi.” I try to hide the dread in my voice. It’s not his fault he’s probably going to accomplish the nearly impossible task of making this terrible day even worse. “Thank you so much for getting back to me so fast.”

“We have your 2008 Honda Civic that came in to us after it wasn’t starting.” He tells me what I already know and I hold my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “The good news is you don’t need a new engine.”

The air leaves my lungs in a quick whoosh, and I almost fall to the ground from pure relief.

“Oh thank god!” I wish I could reach through the phone and kiss him! This isn’t just good news, it’s the best news! I’d been mentally preparing for what a new engine would mean, and no matter how I tried to look at it, it never ended well. “So what is wrong with it?”

Now that I know it’s not an engine and I won’t have to replace my beloved Honda that I’ve mistreated so horribly over the years, I can handle anything.

“You have a blown head gasket,” he says like that means anything to me. “A lot of times when this happens, you need an engine too, so you’re really lucky.”

I’m pretty sure he’s the only person who’s ever told me I’m lucky. After today, the assertion is even more laughable than normal, but it’s nice to hear nonetheless.

“Okay…” I drag out the word, so unfamiliar with the world of auto repair that I don’t even know what to ask. “Can you please explain this to me like I’m five? What does that mean? And more importantly, what is this going to cost?”

I’m sure he doesn’t get paid enough to deal with a customer like me, but thankfully, he does anyway.

“The head gasket is an important part of the engine that stops the oil and the coolant from mixing. It’s important to keep the engine running smooth and efficiently.

With proper care and regular oil changes, they can last a pretty long time.

” There’s some judgment in his tone, but since it’s well deserved, I ignore it.

“This isn’t an engine repair, but it’s not a little fix either.

I’d say the cost can range anywhere from fifteen hundred to three thousand dollars. ”

The surge of relief I was feeling retreats into the wild, and my old friends, Anxiety and Fear, are quick to settle back into place.

“That’s a pretty big price range.” I don’t have three thousand dollars to throw at my car, but if the sopping-wet shoes in my closet are anything to go by, I can’t afford to not fix it either. “How much is it going to cost me?”

Because I know how my luck works, I’m fully prepared for him to come back on the higher end of the spectrum. I sit back down on the couch, ignoring Keisha’s concerned gaze and chewing on my nails. My stomach churns; I’m pretty sure I’m going to be sick.

“I know when you called in, you said Tom sent you over, right?”

“Um, yeah.” I struggle to follow the change of subject.

When I called The Barkery to tell them my car was sitting in the parking lot, Tom snatched the phone away from Shelly and barked out orders to call this mechanic.

And since Tom isn’t one to normally share advice, I didn’t hesitate before listening.

“Tom Cywinski, he told me to call you and let you know he sent me.”

“Yup,” he confirms. “Tom is a good friend of ours. He helped me find Rita, my pit bull, and helped to keep her safe when the city was coming down hard on the breed. I owe a lot to Tom and he tells me you’re good people, always at the shelter, helping the dogs.”

I’m not a crier, but for some reason, my sinuses feel like they’ve been set on fire and my living room gets a little blurry. I don’t know if Greg’s waiting for a response, but my throat is clogged and I couldn’t say anything even if I wanted to.

“The price to replace your Honda Civic gasket would normally come out to around eighteen hundred dollars. But…” He lets that hang and the hope I try so hard not to feel seeps right back in again.

“Because of Tom and all the good he tells us you do, we’re going to knock off most of our labor costs and do it for you for eight hundred dollars. ”

Eight hundred dollars is still a lot of money, but it’s nowhere near as bad as the almost two-thousand-dollar bill. I guess sometimes luck is subjective after all.

“Oh my god,” I gasp into the phone, trying my hardest to keep my stupid tears from falling. “Thank you so much.”

“So can I take that as permission to get the repairs started?” he asks, and I swear I can hear his smile through the phone.

“Yes.” I nod my head knowing damn well he can’t see me. “Please get the repairs started.”

“Alright then,” he says, and I hear the faint clicking of computer buttons in the background. “Looks like we can start those repairs on Tuesday and should have it finished for you by Thursday or Friday. You can pay for the repairs when you pick it up.”

I thank him once more before pressing end. I toss the phone onto the couch and take in the deepest breath I can manage before I slowly let it out, realizing what has to be done.

I look at the Petunia Lemon boxes displayed all around my living room, and if there’s one more bright side to this whole mess, at least I didn’t open most of my inventory. “Well fuck.”

“Well fuck, what?” Keisha repeats after me, her patience clearly running dry. “What’s happening?”

“Good news first?” I ask and she nods her head. “I can afford to get my car fixed. Bad news? I’m going to have to quit Petunia Lemon and take them up on their money-back guarantee.”

“I know you said there was bad news, but I have to be honest, I’m not hearing any.

You’re not going to be stuck on your bike through the winter.

You’re escaping a cult without a permanent reminder etched onto your wrist, and…

” She grabs the old fashioned I made for her and gestures to the rest of the snacks sitting in front of us.

“Now we can go back to keeping our snacks to ourselves.”

She’s not exactly wrong. I might be a little irritated at Nora right now, but I’m still going to hate having to tell her that I’m quitting.

She might be disappointed, but at least she can’t say I didn’t try my hardest. I’ve spent almost three thousand dollars that I don’t have and haven’t made a single cent back.

I love people, I just don’t love selling to them and evidence would suggest people don’t like me selling to them either. Petunia Lemon has been fun, but it’s time for me to call it quits.