Wellfleet Automotive was located off of Route 6, making it easy for kids to get to whether they were driving, biking, or taking public transportation. The one-story building was built at the bottom of a long, sloped driveway. Bella stepped from her car and smoothed her dress as she assessed the property. A bank of tall trees shaded the parking lot. The temperature was cooler in the shade, which was a welcome relief to the warm morning. The lot was lined two cars deep. That has to be a good sign. They aren’t hurting for business. The building had three bays, two of which were open. Two men were moving about in the center bay, and in the far bay, she saw a pair of jeans-clad legs sticking out from beneath a truck.
Bella walked into the center bay and was surprised when neither the tall, dark-haired man in blue coveralls manipulating a wrench, nor the short stocky man peering beneath the hood of a car, greeted her. When she’d called to make the appointment with the owner, Mr. Healy, he was a little gruff, and since he’d put her on hold three times during their brief conversation, she’d written it off to the call interrupting his busy schedule. Now she wondered if the entire staff was less than friendly.
“Hello?” Bella called to them.
Both men looked up at her, then went back to work.
Nice.
The bay smelled like oil and gasoline and felt ten degrees colder than just outside the door, but that might have been from the creepy vibe of Jay and Silent Bob.
“Excuse me. I’m here to see Mr. Healy.” She walked toward the man with the wrench.
He had a thick middle and jowls that jiggled when he turned. He nodded toward a door to the right.
“Thank you.” Bella was beginning to wonder if she’d made a big mistake.
Inside the waiting area a young couple sitting in vinyl chairs against the far wall glanced up from the magazines they were reading, gave her a quick once-over, then turned their attention back to the magazines. Bella stepped up to the counter and rang the silver bell. Heavy footsteps sounded before she saw the giant man who owned them come through the door, hulking toward her. He had to be six seven or taller, with linebacker shoulders and a square head that reminded her of Lurch from The Addams Family.
He splayed the largest hands Bella had ever seen on the counter. “Help you?”
The combination of Mr. Healy and this being her first time giving her spiel made her stomach knot up. She glanced at the couple, who were still engrossed in catching up on the latest gossip, giving her a second to gather her courage.
“I’m Bella Abbascia, here to see Mr. Healy.”
A smile softened his weathered cheeks and gray eyes. “I’m Healy. Come around the desk and follow me.”
She followed him through a door at the back of the cramped reception area and into a surprisingly neat office with a window facing the woods.
“Have a seat,” he said with his back to her as he went to the other side of the desk and lowered himself into a leather chair that conformed to his large body.
Bella sat in the chair across from him, noting the dust-free bookshelves, the neat stack of papers on the desk, and the lack of mechanic’s stench that the bays and the front office seemed to be drenched in.
“Bella Abbascia.” He had a smoker’s voice and followed his words with a loud sigh. “Is your father Milton Abbascia?”
Bella tried to hide her surprise. “Yes.”
He smiled. “Concord station wagon, Buick LeSabre.”
She furrowed her brows as he rattled off the cars from her youth.
“Some people remember faces; for me it’s names and cars. I worked with my pop before I took over. Your name isn’t common, so I looked through the old records, and yup. The guy I remembered—tall, rail thin, serious minded. I assumed he was your father.”
Relief swept through her. Her father was all those things, plus a careful and meticulous man. If he trusted the Healys, then she knew she could as well.
“He’s driving a Taurus now.” She crossed her legs and drew her shoulders back, concentrating on, and pushing past, the nervous energy that had her fidgeting with her purse.
“Mr. Healy, I know you’re busy, so I’ll try to be succinct. As I explained on the phone, I’m working with the school system to put together a work-study program. Have you hired a teenager as an apprentice or mentored any of the local kids?”
His eyes grew serious again. “We hired a kid a few years back. Rat stole two hundred dollars.”
Great. “That’s unfortunate, but not all kids are like that. The program I’m putting together is geared toward helping those who can’t afford to go to college, or perhaps don’t have an interest. I’m asking local businesses to help these kids learn trades and responsibility. We’re talking only about fifteen hours a week at minimum wage.”
He leaned forward and rested his massive forearms on the desk. “Bella. Is it okay if I call you Bella?”
“Yes, of course.” By his serious tone, she knew she was about to be turned down, and she fought to keep the irritation from her face.
“Bella, what you’re doing is commendable, but winters around the Cape are very different from summers. It’s pretty desolate, and kids aren’t as inclined to ride their bikes to a job they’d rather not be doing in ten-degree weather.”
“You’re on public transportation.”
“True, but they have to pay for that transportation.” He lifted his thick, graying brows. “I could give you ten practical reasons why a kid would do a crappy job or not show up for work, but you’re a smart woman, so I won’t play that game. I’ll give you one honest answer.
“I’m not willing to spend time training kids that I don’t know and trust. I’ve had the same employees for the past eleven years. We run an efficient business, and as much as I want to help the kids around here, I’ve been burned once, and that was enough.”
“Mr. Healy, you got your start working with your father. Many of these kids don’t have that option, so I’ll ask you this. What options would you have had if your father hadn’t owned this shop?” Bella held his gaze, hoping he’d soften to her plight.
He narrowed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. “Great question, and one I’ve thought about a million times in the last twenty years. I’m not sure what my options would have been. But I’ve spent a lot of years building a business people can trust. The residents here rely upon me to do business fairly and to provide quality work.” He shrugged as if he’d provided an answer.
“How does hiring a student who can learn and grow from your efforts hinder that business?”
“If I could be assured they were here only to learn, that would be one thing.” He pushed to his feet. “Come with me.” He led her out the office door, through the reception area to the parking lot, where he pointed to a car. “See that red Corolla?”
“Yes.”