Hitting answer, I try to keep the surprise out of my voice. “Hey.”
Brian makes a grunt of greeting that sounds alarmingly like my own, “Do you know where my social security card is?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s in the safe in the bottom of my closet.” I answer slowly.
“Do I need a key to get it?”
“It’s got a spin code.”
There’s a pause, “You gonna tell me what it is, or should I guess?”
I roll my eyes at his smartass reply. Things have been strained this past week, but I can hear that he’s rolling his eyes too – rather than flipping me off through the phone – so that’s a good sign.
“I’ll give you a hint. It’s a birthday,” I tell him.
Another pause. “Mom’s?”
A full body laugh almost sends me careening off the road. “Jesus, Brian!” I laugh again.
His own chuckle filters into the car, “Well I dunno! Who else is there?”
“You, dumbass.”
“Me?” I can perfectly picture the way his face contorts as he asks this.
“Yes, you.” I shake my head. “Like you said, who else is there?”
“Who else indeed,” he scoffs. “You know it wouldn’t kill you to date a woman, right?”
“Uh…” I try to ignore the alarm bells going off in the back of my brain. There’s no way he knows.
“Wow, convincing, Dad,” he snarks. “Who knows? If you find the right woman, she might be able to pull that giant stick out of your ass.”
“Hilarious,” I deadpan.
“Yeah, yeah, you’ll just stay married to your work. Speaking of, aren’t you gonna ask what I need my card for?”
I slow for a turn in the road, “I assume you need it for a job or to flee the country. And at this point, I’m kinda hoping for the latter.”
“Ha! Well sorry to disappoint, but it’s the former.”
“Anywhere I know?” I try to keep my tone casual.
I’ve been trying to get this kid on track for longer than I care to remember. If he’s finally doing it, I don’t want to jinx it.
“Bobby’s Autos.”
“What?!” I hit the brake too hard and screech to a stop, yards before the stop sign ahead of me. “What the hell?!”
“Calm your tits, old man. I’m going in undercover.”
I ignore thetitsand theold mancomments and move right to the last word. “Under. Cover.”
“Yep. Figured it was the perfect way to get some hands-on experience with guys that’ll treat me as just another worker. And it’s good to see how other people do things.”
“But… Did you put Axel’s on your resume? Didn’t that tip them off?”
He snorts, “Lots of people have worked for you. And I have Mom’s last name so even if they happen to know your full name, there’s nothing to connect us.”