It takes me a blink to remember how to speak. “So I can’t drive it?”
“You can drive it, but I wouldn’t wait too long. You need to bring it back in a day or two and let me finish working on it.”
In my head, I do some quick math, my stomach sinking at the thought. “How much is all of this going to cost?”
Billy starts to answer. “Transmission can run you at least eight—”
“Don’t worry about that right now.” Gray takes off those glasses and returns them to his shirt pocket. “I’ve always wanted to work on this car.”
The genuine warmth in his tone almost makes me forget how angry I’ve been at him all day. It’s so much like how he used to be, optimistic, excited. I want to reach out and touch his hand, hold him, but his signals are so mixed, I don’t.
“I can bring it back in the morning if that’s okay?” I manage to give him a little smile, a sign I’m still here, waiting.
He takes a step back, almost like he’s guarding a wound. “I’ll have to order parts for the transmission and tires—”
“We can work on the brakes tomorrow.” Billy has been hanging back, following his new boss’s lead, but I can tell he’s pretty smart with cars. “We have what we need for that.”
Gray nods. “If you want to do that, we can keep things moving.”
“Thanks.” A little smile, and I slide into the seat, amazed at how smoothly the engine turns over. The car sounds like it used to.
It gives me an unexpected sense of hope, of bringing something back that was broken. It just needed a little TLC.
My hope turns to sadness when I get home and find my dad in the same place I left him this morning. He’s in that same chair, holding that same empty tumbler of scotch.
“The Jag is almost back to perfect,” I say, taking the glass from his hand.
He sniffs as if I’ve startled him out of a trance. “Drew. Don’t you need to go to work today?”
His question makes my heart hurt. “I did go to work, Dad. I’m just getting home.”
“What?” He looks around the room confused.
“Did you sit here all day?” I take the chair across from him, inspecting his clothing. “It’s not good not to move all day.”
“Danny never moves now. Your mother never moves.” He looks out the window again, and I’m at a loss.
I know this is all part of his addiction. The alcohol feeds the depression, and the more he drinks, the less grasp on reality he has. I’m starting to despair at my inability to help anyone I care about.
I decide to change my approach. “You know, Ruby likes to use dating apps to find guys to go out with.”
He leans his head back, frowning at me. “A dating… app? I don’t know what that is.”
Shifting in my seat, I do my best to stay positive. “It’s a computer program that matches your personality with other people’s personalities. Anyway, that’s not really the point I was trying to make.”
“I’m not looking to date anyone.” He puts his hands on the arms of his chair and starts to stand. “I’m really tired.”
“No, wait. I didn’t mean for you to date someone.” I scoot forward, catching his hand. “I was thinking about what you said. About nothing being anonymous in Oakville.”
He straightens to his full height, looking down on me with disdain. “I hope this isn’t more of your harping on me to attend those meetings.”
The way he says the word lets me know I’m losing the fight once again. I stand as well, even though my head only reaches the top of his shoulder.
“Dad…” I do my best to carefully choose my words. “I know you feel sad because of Danny, because of Mom. I know it feels like you have nothing left… But you still have me.”
His expression softens a bit, and he almost smiles. “Yes, and one day, you’ll leave me, too. Live your life, Drew. Don’t spend it worrying about me.”
He takes his first slow, staggering steps toward the door, and I hurry up beside him. “I’ll never stop worrying about you, Dad. I want you to be well.”