Sometime after midnight, Dani sat in the garage, toying with the steering wheel of Daddy's other baby. There were only eight like it—four—if you considered the two transmission options.
She remembered when Daddy first saw it. She was six or seven then. She could still smell the musty barn where he'd found it, a rusty heap. She could hear the break in the voices of the silver-haired couple talking with Daddy.
She'd never seen Daddy cry before. Or since.
She'd since learned that Private First Class Daniel Jenkins parked it there in '71.
She'd heard Daddy tell the story so many times that she knew the details by heart. Daddy had carried his buddy and laid him in a medivac chopper at Quang Tri.
Daddy had wanted to look up Jenkins' parents for years. By the time business brought him close enough to the Michigan state line to do it, he had to force himself. He'd brought Dani along so she could learn a little about the man she was named after.
Over the next few years, Daddy took as many trips as he could out to the Michigan farm country. Sometimes, Dani got to go. They were making the car like new, Daddy said, because Danny would have liked that.
Dani smiled, knowing she must have been underfoot at the time. Daddy would bark instructions at her in that Marine Corps drill instructor tone that always meant "I love you" to her ears. To hear Daddy tell it, he couldn't have done the job without her. She remembered him letting her turn the key, that growl under the hood, and the beams in Daddy's eyes when it first saw the light of day.
Daddy never expected the couple to give him the title.
She knew he'd had offers as high as a quarter million for the car, but the 1969 ½ Trans Am rested right where Dani sat in it now, venturing out only for an occasional car show or parade.
Who knows? Maybe if Daddy had sold it, no one would have discovered his talent for bringing rust buckets back from the dead. Maybe he wouldn't have invested his life savings in starting the shop. Maybe he'd have just served his twenty years and got out three years ago, with no need to continue in the Reserves. He'd be retired, and someone else's dad would be in danger halfway around the world.
At least they're not fighting yet. Daddy had said it wasn't likely mechanics would be close to any heavy fighting, anyhow, even if what they were calling Operation Desert Shield did come to war. And Vic told her he'd seen on the news the Iraqi missiles were outdated and unlikely to hit much anyway.
Still, it only takes one.
Dani lay her head on the wheel. "Daddy, I know he's right to be mad." That news story would have been a huge deal for Fidelis Restoration, and it didn't even air.
She yawned.
Dani jolted awake at the squeak of the house door and squinted against the dusk. Vic stretched the phone cord as far as it could reach, as he sat on the garage steps and closed the door, taking pains not to let it slam.
"I know it's early." Vic's voice hovered just above a whisper. "But playing with the worship band means everything to her."
Dani melted into the seat.
"…look, I get it… but it's been tough getting her to even come to church since… listen, she's going through… will you just think about it?" A pause, a sigh. "Tonight? Yeah, I guess I could."
An hour later, as the last shades of red kissed the horizon good morning, Dani parked next to Greg's beat-up Chevy, Greg's snoring face smushed against the window. The new pinstriping kit waited on the bench seat.
Where'd he find a Beugler in the middle of the night?
"Shhhhhh," Dani said, as if the groaning hinges could hear.
Greg shook, ran his hands through his stubble, and blinked his bloodshot green eyes repeatedly.
"Go get some sleep," Dani said.
"Might as well work." He yawned and stretched. "I'm wide awake."
Dani considered her O-for-lifetime record arguing with Marines. She didn't have time to try improving on it today. As it was, she'd have to work faster than she liked for a job that was going to take finesse. And a little luck.
* * *
Vic stretched breakfast with Ed Wilkins as long as he could. No, Mr. Wilkins didn't want to see the sites.
"Headed straight from the shop to Highway 1."
No, he didn't need to stop anywhere. Not even the bank.
"Check's right here," Mr. Wilkins said, patting the breast of his sports coat. "Just need the keys. Have to admit, I half expected a call, what with your old man away."
"I run a tight ship." If Dani doesn't sink it.
Vic took the long way. Caught every yellow light he could. Twenty more minutes and we're there.No way she's had enough time.
Mr. Wilkins drummed his fingers. "If the job's the quality I've come to expect from your dad, I've got two more lined up—'57 Chevys."
"We can handle them," Vic said, mind racing for anything to stall just a little longer.
"Need the right touch."
"Have we failed you yet?" Vic said, pulling into an Exxon station. "Need to hit the men's room."
"Man, I'd love to be in your business," Mr. Wilkins said to himself as both stepped out of the car.
* * *
At the shop, Dani forced herself to ignore the clock as she did what she could with the botched stripe. Can only polish a turd so much.
"I don't think you need to worry about it." Greg let out a satisfied grunt as he broke something loose under the Superbird in the next bay.
"Easy for you to say. Vic spent half the night hollering about how this is our best client."
"He couldn't run this place without you." Greg slid out from underneath the car and sat up on the creeper. "And he knows it."
"Wouldn't trade places for anything. Can you picture me trying to deal with people?"
"I can picture it."
Dani stepped back and scrunched her face as she eyed the work from several angles. "Mr. What's-His-Face is not gonna like this." There was no way to fix Vic's mistake without stripping the paint and starting over. Dani had done her best to work the splotch into a design – something that at least looked intentional.
"It's not so bad." Greg stood over her shoulder, polishing his wrench.
Dani arched an eyebrow, standing over him with an elbow on her hip.
"Okay, it's…" Greg nodded out the window and continued in a whisper, "It's Mr. What's-His-Face and your brother. And it's better than it was."
Vic's face dropped when he walked through the door. Dani glared. What's-His-Face wrinkled his brow.
"Coffee, anyone?" Greg held the half-empty pot in his greasy mitt.
Mr. What's-His-Face's tone was slow, steady as he walked up to the car, running his finger along the striping. "That's not what I asked for." He took the cup Greg held out to him. One cream, two sugars.
Dani cringed, biting her lip as he looked the rest of the car over.
"Who did this?"
Dani raised her hand halfway.
"We all had something to do with it." Beads of sweat formed on Vic's temples. "We'll make it…"
"Even better." What's-His-Face sucked in his cheeks, nodding. "You took a chance and made it better than what I asked for. When can you take the '57s?"
Dani sat alone that night, clicking channels. Vic had told her not to wait up, but she wanted to catch the news. It still felt weird to watch it when she didn't have a school assignment requiring her to, but it was becoming routine. Even though she knew any really bad news would come by phone or a chaplain at the door, it helped her sleep better to know there wasn't anything new happening in Saudi Arabia and Kuwait, places she couldn't have located on a map last year.
* * *
Across town, Vic walked under the streetlights, pace brisk, hands in his pockets. Kari Andersen bounced beside him, perm bobbing as she double-timed to keep up.
Keep it to what I came here for. "I think it'll blow over and Dad'll be back home in a couple months. But she worries. That's just Dani."
Big green eyes gazed at him over blue plastic frames.
She'd be good looking if she'd tone down the Tammy Faye impression.
Vic chided himself. She wore too much paint for his taste, but it wasn't that extreme. And he knew Kari was just trying to do what she thought was right with Dani. He also knew he could smile and talk her into just about anything.
The pair halted in front of Dominic's Ristorante.
"Best Italian in town," Vic said. Only Italian in town.
Kari giggled, leaning in closer than he liked. "I can think of at least one I like better, Signore Grassigli."
He made himself look into her eyes. She was practically shaking, looking like she was trying to suppress that toothy smile of hers. He shrugged. "About Dani…"
* * *
The phone shook Dani awake. She wiped tears from her eyes, thankful the Marine Corps calling to let her know Daddy was dead was just a bad dream.
Shelly. Sobbing.
Between trying to shake the dream and the cobwebs, Dani didn't understand much of what Shelly said. Something about Bobby being mad.
Good. Maybe he'll get lost.
That Sunday, Dani strummed and sang harmony as Kari played the piano and sang:
My lips shall praise You
My Great Redeemer
My heart will worship
Almighty Savior
Dani had no idea why Kari had a change of heart, but she determined as she played that she wasn't going to put herself in that position again. Being part of the worship team meant too much to her.
After a couple times through the chorus, Dani stepped up to the microphone and put some rasp into her alto voice:
"You take my guilt away…"
Kari's back stiffened.
"Turn the darkest night to brightest day…"
Kari gave her a look over her glasses. Fine. Kari had told her a thousand times that it was okay to rock out a bit in youth group, but she needed to keep her vocals clean on Sunday mornings.
Probably not the best time to test my boundaries.
She fell back into clear-as-crystal harmony as Kari resumed the melody.
"You are the restorer of my soul…"
Kari stopped the song after a single time through, moving on to a pair of simple, traditional choruses, songs Dani figured their church had been singing since long before she was born.
Pastor Ian Stenger hobbled to the pulpit. After opening with a quick prayer, he continued, "Most of you know Victor Grassigli put his plans for a missions trip on hold. He would have left tomorrow morning, but he is staying here for now to keep his family business running. What you may not know is that he'll be doing some preaching here and in other churches around the area. I'd like to make sure we all keep him and his family in prayer as they navigate a difficult season."