Page 55 of Midnight Auto Parts

Years ago, Matty egged Josie on to Frankenstein random vegetables and fruits into what they now called fruitables. Which they fermented into alcohol. It always—always—knocked them for a loop. And they never learned their lesson.

Honestly, I don’t think they wanted to learn aside from which fruitables produced the strongest buzz.

As the morning sun stabbed Matty in the eyeballs, I was doubly grateful I abstained from their nonsense.

“Oops.” I bounced the wagon through a pothole on the way to Bonaventure. “Sorry about that.”

“There were never this many potholes before,” he whined, his eyes swollen.

“Oh no.” I tapped the brakes. “A possum crossing the road.”

“You always blame a possum.” He curled in a ball against the door. “There aren’t that many in Georgia.”

“Maybe they all moved to Thunderbolt?” I dialed up the music. “They’re everywhere these days.”

“Why aren’t you punishing Josie?” He covered his ears with his palms. “She did it too.”

“Carter is handling her punishment.” I chuckled imagining what she would cook up for our sister. “You’re the one who thought it would be a hoot to get drunk on bathtub gin, or whatever you call it, during your workweek. You knew you had to wake up early, and yet you chose to party.”

And, since he was about to take a long nap, Pascal would be the one stuck with the consequences.

“I found out my sisterdied.” He glared at me through red-rimmed eyes. “I was traumatized.”

Smarting at how much truth I heard in his accusation, I hardened my resolve. I was an old pro at how the blame game was played when it came to mediating between my siblings. He had thrown a red herring in the hopes I would give him a pass. I might have, if he and Josie hadn’t broken myno drunks on the stairsrule.

They were going to break their necks one day if I didn’t keep hammering their thick skulls until they got the message. Then again, maybe that was the missing step. Maybe I ought to let them take a fall and then shove the warning into their brains along with any leaking gray matter.

Idiots.

Not to be distracted, I pushed him harder. “How long does it take for that poison brew to ferment?”

“Two weeks.”

“You two planned this two weeks ago.BeforeI died. Don’t blame my death for your bad decisions.”

“But we wouldn’t have gotten into it last night if—” He sagged against his seat belt. “I’m sorry, Mary. You don’t deserve that. How can we ask you to share your concerns with us if we throw them back at you to excuse our bad behavior?” He rested a hand on my shoulder. “I was upset about what happened to you, but I could have told Josie no whenshesuggested we sample our latest batch.”

“She suggested it, huh?” I rolled my eyes. “You sure that last bump wasn’t us rolling over Josie after you threw her under the bus?” I wished I could keep myself from caving, but it was a lost cause. “Brat.”

“But you love me.” He leaned his head on my shoulder. “I’m your favorite brother.”

“My only brother.”

“I’m your favorite sibling too,” he said sagely. “You just won’t admit it. Not even to yourself.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Because I did love him, and I was a giant sucker, I relented and made the rest of the drive smoothly.

A grin split my cheeks when I rolled into my usual parking space to find Kierce waiting on me with Badb.

Rushing through the usual routine with Matty, I seated Pascal within him for the day.

Paco, who was up in the Suarez rotation, had requested the day off, so his little brother was on deck.

“You’re sure you want to teach him to drive in the wagon?” Pascal slung an arm around my neck without evidencing so much as a twinge from Matty’s overindulgence. The guy had a cast-iron stomach. Even when the stomach in question belonged to someone else. “He’s a cool guy, don’t get me wrong, but the wagon? Don’t we have a clunker you can use for this?”

We’d had a ratty little pickup a few years ago. We let Josie drive customers home after dropping off their vehicles or pickthem up once we finished with their cars. She’d sold veggies and fruits out of the back of it at the farmers’ market in town as well as hauling her gardening supplies. I’d had big plans for the Suarezes to finish rebuilding the transmission before moving on to the body work. I figured we could have it wrapped to advertise the shop, but then the Suarezes carved a classic car repair niche via Matty.

---