Page 46 of Crazy Imperfect Hearts

“Hi, Ms. Lucas,” the polite twelve-year-old says. “It’s summer break now and Dad said I could start working here a few hours every afternoon.”

“Learning the family business?”

He nods. “I’m going to be a mechanic.”

“That’s amazing. I’m sure you’ll make them all proud.”

“Are you here to check on your Beetle?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I’ll go ask my dad. He’s the one who’s been looking at it.”

“Thanks, Christian.”

I watch him walk away, his torso twisting a bit unsteadily as he uses his crutches. There’s also a walker over by the door in case he needs it. Christian—the result of a scandalous teen pregnancy—has never let his cerebral palsy be a deterrent. When Christian's mom Denise bailed shortly after Christian was diagnosed, the whole town rallied behind Christian and his dad, Carter. Eventually, the shame became too much for Denise and she left town.

It’s her loss, though. Because despite the struggles Carter had with Christian as a child, all his persistence paid off, and Christian is a well-adjusted, happy kid who brings joy to everyone he meets.

He’s smart too. And I have every confidence that hewillbecome a mechanic in spite of his physical limitations.

I study him through the glass separating reception from the garages as he talks with his father.

What if I have a special needs child? What if I go with a sperm donor and end up with a baby who has medical expenses I just can’t cover? Would I lose the shop? Would the town set up a fund like they did for Carter? No—they wouldn’t. Because I’m not a naïve hormonal teenager who got himself into a situation and didn’t have the foresight to plan for such things. I’m a grown woman who has to live with the choices she makes.

Carter comes through from the garage. “Hi, Regan.” His smile immediately disappears, alerting me that what he says next isn’t going to be anything I want to hear. “I’m afraid the news isn’t good.”

My heart sinks. “Give it to me.”

“It’s the engine. It needs replacing.”

My eyes go wide. “The entire engine?”

“Sorry, but yes. And the air-cooled, flat-four engine design in these older Beetles can be intricate, adding to the cost of replacement.”

“How much?”

He rubs his chin in thought. “That depends if you’re going new or used. I might be able to scrounge up a used engine for a little over a grand. Add in the other parts and labor required for installation and we’re talking somewhere around twenty-five hundred out the door. I have to warn you, though, that while any used parts come with a six-month warranty, the same thing could happen a year or two down the road.”

“What about a new one then?” I ask, already seeing the numbers in my savings account dwindle down to nothing.

“Ten thousand.” He shakes his head. “But honestly, Regan, I’m not sure it would be worth it. The transmission is old. I don’tknow how much time you have left on it. You may have reached the point with this old car where things just keep going out one after the other.”

I sigh and sit on the stool next to the counter.

“I’m really sorry. I wish I could help. But even if I gave you the good neighbor discount, you’re still looking at a significant bill.”

The good neighbor discount. As a small business owner on The Circle, I know exactly what that means. It means basically zero profit for the business because they either really like you, or feel really sorry for you. I’m wondering which would be the case in this instance.

For a second, I look at Carter in a way I haven’t before—as a single, good-looking father. Younger than me, but available. Does he even date? I try to remember ever hearing anything about it. I think his whole life revolves around this shop and his son. Sure, he has a few tattoos, which I don’t normally go for, but then again, who am I to talk? He’s probably thinking the exact same thing about me and the clothes I wear.

“Regan?”

I bring my thoughts back to the here and now. “I’m not sure I can afford either, even with your discount. Maybe I can go without a car altogether.”

“It’s not unheard of. You’ve got the train if you need to go to the city or over to White Plains. And everything you need is pretty much along McQuaid Circle. I can see how much the scrapyard I use would give you for the car. And if you want, I could keep my eye out for another affordable option.”

“That’s okay. If I can’t afford to fix this one, no way can I afford another one.” I nod in resignation. “See what you can get for it.” I get out my purse. “How much do I owe you for the tow?”

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