“Oh no. Not at all. Drives mechanics crazy that you can get them for pretty cheap, and it’s quick to put them on, laborwise, but the whole engine can be lost if the owner doesn’t tend to it. So we’ll replace those all right. But there’s another thing, and this’ll set you back more. Those tires you’ve been driving on are downright dangerous.”
Bea drew her head back in a pantomime of surprise. “That doesn’t sound right. Herbert taught me how to do the penny test on the tread, and the tires passed that test before I left on my trip.”
“That’s not always the whole story, though. But don’t take my word for it. Come see what I mean.”
He pulled to his feet and reached an elbow out for Bea. As if Bea should take his arm and be lifted from the couch. Escorted into the shop. Bea wasn’t quite sure how to interpret that. Was he being gallant? Or did he think her incapable of standing up and walking?
“I’ll do fine,” she said, and rose on her own.
She followed Casper into the shop area, where her poor disabled van sat next to a nice new BMW, looking sad and old. The girl shuffled along behind. Bea could hear her footsteps. It provided some comfort.
“The problem is your alignment,” Casper said, speaking up to be heard over some sort of power tool. “Or lack of same. When’s the last time you had a front end alignment?”
“I don’t know. Herbert never taught me about that.”
“Do you know when he last had it done?”
“Well, he’s been dead several years, so none too recently.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Casper opened the passenger door of the van, reached through, and cranked the steering wheel to the left. “Now come look at this.”
They bent at the waist for a time, staring at one of the front tires.
“See these scallops on the inside edge of the tread?” He pointed at a couple of spots where the rubber of the tire seemed to have been scooped out. “You’re right down to the belt here. Very dangerous to drive on those. So you need to replace them, and of course we need to do an alignment so you don’t ruin your new ones in short order.”
“Oh dear. What about the back tires?”
“Not nearly as bad. But all four of them have cracks on the outside walls. I’d venture a guess and say they’re older in years than mileage, but it works against you either way. You maybe could get away with just two for the front if money is a problem. But I’d replace all four if you possibly can.”
“Oh, it’s a problem. It’s always a problem.”
Bea straightened up. Probably too fast. And maybe—just maybe—that was the reason she almost passed out. Or maybe it was the sudden realization that once again her plan had been full of holes all along. Life was too complicated and too dangerous, and there was always something she hadn’t anticipated. Why, she could have killed herself and that poor young girl, just driving along thinking she had everything under control.
And now she had to tell Casper the truth. That she did not exactly have the ability to pay him. Not without quite a bit of creative problem-solving. Not even for the tow, which was a service already rendered in good faith.
Or it might have been some combination of causes.
Whatever the reason, Bea’s vision went white, especially at the edges, and she felt herself lose her balance and pitch to one side. Before she could slam down on the concrete shop floor, Casper was there. Holding her up.
“Let’s get her back to that couch in the waiting room,” he said to Allie.
They each took one of her arms. Or tried, anyway. Bea shook them off.
“I’m fine. My goodness. I’m not an invalid. I can walk. I just stood up too fast. Got a little woozy.”
Still, they walked close on either side of her, which Bea felt was not such a bad deal. She just didn’t care to admit it.
Bea had no idea how much later she opened her eyes, or even if she had slept. She was on her back on the couch in Casper’s waiting room, her feet elevated. Allie was sitting on an uncomfortable-looking chair, staring at her.
“Was I asleep?”
“Guess so,” the girl said. “It’s been an hour or two.”
“Help me up. I have to go tell Casper about our money problem.”
“I already told him.”
A pause fell while Bea absorbed that. While she reset her negative anticipation and relaxed back into the couch. She wanted to know how it had gone. At least, part of her did.
“I had a long talk with the guy,” Allie continued. “He’s pretty nice. He didn’t take it badly at all. Not at all. He said we’d be surprised how many of the people who come through here haven’t figured out how they’re going to pay for their repairs.”
“I thought everybody had credit cards. Except me.”
“Mostly, yeah, but then they find out they’re too maxed out to cover the bill.”
“Hmm,” Bea said. “That actually makes me feel better.”
“He’s interested in my MacBook. He might take it in trade for part of the repair. He says he has a loaner car that he lets people use sometimes. It’s out right now. But it’s supposed to be back at the end of the day. So maybe tomorrow we can drive up to Eureka and take care of that business with the gold.”
“Tomorrow? I hate to be here so long. Where will we sleep?”
“I have no idea. But he can’t get the new starter delivered till tomorrow morning anyway. So we’re here tonight. That’s just the way it is.”
“Oh,” Bea said. “Oh dear.”
They stopped talking for quite a long time. Several minutes.
“Thank you for broaching that difficult topic with him,” Bea said. She had to push the words to get them to leave her mouth. “And finding a way to work it out. That’s quite a load off my mind, I must say.”
“You’re welcome.”
Another brief silence.
“I’m trying to be better at letting you know what I like about having you along. Since I obviously communicate it clearly when you’re a pain in the tail.”
“Thank you,” Allie said. “I appreciate that. What’s Casper the Friendly Ghost?”
“It was just a silly kids’ cartoon. It was before your time.”
“Do you like him? The real Casper, I mean.”
“He seems nice enough.”
“He likes you. He asked about you a lot.”
“Nonsense. Don’t be silly.”
“Why is it silly?”
“I’m an old woman.”
“He’s an old man.”
“I won’t hear any more about it. I’m sure you’re wrong.”
Truthfully, she wasn’t positive.
Casper appeared around closing time. At least, his head did. It hovered in the slightly open doorway of the waiting area as though attached to nothing. His face looked hesitant. Tentative, like a man about to give a speech in front of thousands, balancing in the grip of stage fright.
Before he even opened his mouth, Bea knew the girl had been right. It was a strange sensation, that knowing. Scary and unwanted and buoying and a little bit heady all at the same time.
“I was wondering if I could have the pleasure of taking two lovely ladies out to dinner,” he said. “Nothing fancy. There’s a place down the street that makes great pizza and chicken wings. And they have the best salad bar in town.”