"Really think you should wait and let Dani handle that," Greg said as he headed to the bathroom.
"Take care of your business and let me take care of mine," Vic said. Dani's habit of showing up when she felt like it had messed up enough for one day. And this project was on a ticking clock. May not be the artist Dani is, but I can handle a pinstripe.
With inches to go, Vic took a deep breath and admired his work. A flash of burnt orange caught his eye, and he flinched, throwing the stripe off course as the rapid-fire ping-ping-ping of gravel against the metal siding announced the arrival of Dani's GTO. Uttering something between a cuss word and a prayer, he threw the pinstriping tool against the wall.
Greg picked up the remains of the tool as he stepped from the bathroom. "New detailing technique, Boss?"
Vic slammed his palm against the Mustang's hood. He closed his eyes, reminding himself, "Wisdom yields patience; it is to a man's glory to overlook an offense." Truth be told, he knew he wasn't a good enough mechanic to run the place without Greg. Be tough to replace him,even though Dad's known for his overly generous payroll. He looked back at the car. "Think anyone'll notice?"
"She'll notice."
"She won't—"
His kid sister rushed in, leaving the door swinging, apology written all over her face.
"Second time's not a mistake," Vic said. "Much less the seventeenth in a month."
Dani groaned and rushed to the fastback, her eyes demanding an explanation as she ran her finger along the errant stripe. "Talk about mistakes."
She's trying to turn the tables. Like always. "Mr. Wilkins is on a plane."
"Next time you want to help…"
Vic gritted his teeth. "We can't afford to lose his business."
"At least the news lady stopped by," Greg said as he stepped between them.
"And chatted with me and Greasy McGee instead of getting a story about a brother and sister carrying on the family business while daddy's off getting ready to rescue Kuwait," Vic said. "Semper Fi. Oorah. Red, white, and blue, and all that."
Greg stiffened.
"Who knows if they'll even show it now." Vic slumped against a tool case. "Would've been great publicity."
"Corps means a lot more to Gunny than News at Eleven."
Don't I know it? Dad had always spent more time with his Marines than his kids. Greg was the third injured Marine his father had employed since opening the shop. "Mr. Wilkins expects his car in the morning."
"Maybe I can fix it." Dani knelt by the side panel, squinting. "Where's the pinstriper?"
* * *
That night, Dani clung to Teddy Bear, her oversized Chow Chow. The dog stood sentry as she sobbed into his black mane. Vic rehearsed excuses for Mr. Wilkins' car not being finished outside her door. Loudly. Greg sped down the highway—on the clock, Vic had reminded her— somewhere between here and LA. He wouldn't get any sleep tonight, but he would get a lot of overtime, and she'd have the tools she needed by sunrise.
On the other side of the world, Daddy would be waking up. She could hear him praying for her and Vic, like he had every morning since she was ten, three hours before her alarm went off. She'd always loved waking up that way.
Daddy was counting on her now. Vic didn't have the touch she'd picked up from Daddy for resurrecting rusty classics. He ran the business end well enough. He'd always been more like their mother. Best she could tell, the only thing Dani had inherited from their mother was her curls. "Thanks a lot for that," she'd often said while torturing herself with hairbrushes. Everyone else said they wished they had her curls. Everyone else didn't have to deal with them.
She opened her closet and filed through to the white lace dress in the back, running the sash through her fingers like she often did when she was stressed or found herself missing Mom. She hoped someday she'd look as pretty in it as Mom had in the wedding picture that hung above the family's mantle.
The last time she'd talked alone with Mom, she'd promised she'd save herself for that night, though at the time, she hadn't been too clear about what she was saving. She fiddled with the purity ring Kari had given out in youth group last month. "I'm a mess, but at least I'm still good as far as that goes." Someday I'll trade it for Mom's ring.
She wiped tears on her sleeve.
Dani sat and reached for her acoustic guitar on the other end of the closet. Teddy Bear ambled over, blocking the door, as she quietly fingerpicked. Music made sense, even when nothing else in the world did.
"And while I'm trying to figure out how to avoid losing our shirts, she's playing 'Don't Worry, Be Happy!'"
Dani stopped, sure she wasn't meant to hear that.
"Rome's burning! Nero's fiddling!"
Okay, that was meant for me.
"She's trying. God, give me patience with her. I don't know how I'm going to make it through this."
It's my fault Vic's freaking out. Wish Mom was here. She'd be able to calm him down.
The phone rang. Daddy didn't usually call on Fridays, but if he did, it would be about now. Dani hurdled Teddy Bear and tossed her guitar on the bed in a rush to beat Vic to the phone.
But it was Kari, calling to tell her she'd have to sit out of the praise band for a couple weeks.
"I only missed one practice." Dani bit her lip. "And I told you ahead of time."
"That you'd be at work."
No point arguing. Kari didn't let just anyone up front, no matter how talented and no matter how big a crush she had on their older brother. Not during youth group and especially not on Sunday. Just glad she doesn't know where I was. I'd never play again. Dani resigned herself to the sermon to follow. At least she cares.
Kari was just getting wound up on faithfulness in little things and knowing to do good and not doing it when call waiting saved Dani from the big finish about obeying those in authority.
Please, God, let it be important enough so I can tell Kari I'll call her back.
Shelly wanting to get their stories straight in case her mom talked to Dani.
Close enough.