Page 14 of Missed Exit

“Then they should lower their prices. They’re robbing people.”

“They’re not running a charity, Greta. That’s just the way it is.”

“Well, it sucks.”

“That’s life.”

“It shouldn’t have to be, though. What kind of a world do we live in when a teacher can’t even afford to get her car fixed?”

“Hey, look. There’s a cardinal in that oak tree.”

I don’t disagree with her, but there’s nothing I can do to repair late-stage Capitalism while I’m losing daylight in this parking lot, and I don’t want her to get upset again. One, she’s a little scary when she gets wound up, but two, it sounds like she’s had a rotten run of luck lately.

“I don’t see it.”

“Huh. I guess it flew away. Maybe it saw me looking at it.”

“There was no cardinal, was there? You just wanted me to shut up.”

“No, there wasn’t a cardinal. But I didn’t want you to shut up so much as I just didn’t want you to be upset.”

“Nothing ever changes until somebody gets upset enough to do something about it.”

“Okay. What’s your big plan for lowering the cost of car repairs?”

“I hear having a big TV can sometimes get you a discount.”

I look up from under her hood to smile at her. “For the record, the TV might not be your only bargaining chip.”

“Oh, right. The chips. I forgot about the value of those.”

Her smile almost looks a little flirty. I guess we have an inside joke now. That didn’t take long. I’m never going to look at a bag of chips again without thinking about her.

“Ow! Fuck!”

“Are you okay?” She hops down from my tailgate in a panic.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Wrench slipped. That’s what I get for not paying attention.”

“I distracted you. I’m sorry. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“It’s just a busted knuckle. I’m fine.”

And you can distract me any time.

If I said that out loud, she’d probably lower this hood on my head. And I can’t keep an eye on her and attach these wires at the same time, so it’s probably safer if I keep my inside thoughts inside.

It takes less than half an hour to swap out the parts. The repair quote really was highway robbery, but I’m not going to bring it up again.

“Moment of truth,” I say, motioning for her to get behind the wheel. “Start her up.”

Her car hums to life. “You did it!”

“Looks that way. See you at seven.”

“What’s happening at seven?”

“The Giants are playing the Dodgers.”

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