Chapter 29 Getaway
Chapter twenty-nine
Getaway
Iwasn’t going anywhere fast, not if I had to rely on my parents, my sister, and my boyfriend to get there.
Under normal circumstances, I’d sit at home and cry about it.
But then I’d be stuck there. Possibly forever…
or at least until eviction. Then I’d have to live in Angel’s car or move in with my parents, where I’d be stuck dealing with Jen.
I couldn’t do that again. I had to escape this situation.
And that meant getting my own transportation—even before any new job interviews.
Dad drove me to a car lot in relative silence. It wasn’t the same terse quiet as I’d endured earlier with Giselle, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.
I cleared my throat. “Do you think car dealerships have any Valentine’s Day promotions? Or is that more of a chocolates-and-flowers kinda holiday?”
“Maybe they’ll throw in a bouquet,” he said dully.
I chuckled and crossed my ankles. “I’m not sure I’d have a vase to put it in.”
“Your mom’s got tons of them.” He hesitated. “I’m sure she’d lend one to you if Kat doesn’t have one at her place.”
“Kat’s packing up so she can move in with Victor,” I said.
Dad flexed his grip around the steering wheel. “I forgot about that.”
I bit my lip. “Did Mom give you all our recent life updates?”
He raised his eyebrows. “She said you got a boyfriend.”
“Yeah. I think you’ll like him,” I said.
Dad turned into the used car lot and sighed. “He’s gotta be better than Jen’s fella.”
“Most people are, I imagine. Although I guess I should reserve judgment until I meet him.” I got out and strode through the aisles of cars looking for my next long-term investment.
The frontmost salespeople hurried to talk to my dad, who flapped his palms in a gesture as if they were dogs that needed to heel. “Let us kick some tires for a minute. We’ll signal when we’re ready for more information,” he said.
It was weird. One salesperson waved from their computer, another laughed when I struggled to open the trunk on one of the models, and the rest chatted with their colleagues.
They all treated me like I was invisible or a small kid.
Yes, I came with a parent, but I had my own money. Some, anyway. I mentally calculated the monthly payments on a reliable little sedan with a clean interior. With the interest rate on the loan, I’d end up paying almost twice the listed price.
I groaned and draped myself over the steering wheel. “Why is life so expensive?”
Dad leaned in through the window. “Maybe ‘cause it’s valuable, even if it doesn’t go how you expect.”
I smiled sheepishly at him. “Ah, sorry. I’m just trying to get on my feet again without getting saddled with ten years of debt.”
“Is this your way of asking if your mom and I will chip in for the car?”
“No. Yes? Would that be an option? I could pay you back…with interest. Not as much as the dealership is asking for, but you'd still make money,” I said.
He eyed the promotional banners nearby. “A loan could build your credit score.”
“I’m sure I’ll have plenty of credit history by the time I’m done with med school,” I said.
“You’re going to finish?” Dad sounded much too enthusiastic.
“I…I’d like to,” I said. “Maybe a different program. But I might not be a good fit.”
“What makes you say that?”
My vision glazed over with memories. “Past failure. Crashes. I wasn’t cut out for selling underwear.”
He cleared his throat. “Didn’t you say the world lost a lot of great potential nurses because of a statistics class?”
“Yes.”
“So, what would you tell someone who failed it?”
“I guess that they should try again. But a guidance counselor told me to try something else.”
“They were basing their advice on statistics,” he said. “The program was hard. Most people weren’t up for it, therefore, you should quit.”
“Well, what about The Closette?”
“That was never meant to be permanent on your end. And you get better at failing with experience. You learn.”
“Oh, great,” I muttered. “I do love learning.”
Dad leaned in to the window. “When I was younger, I had a hard time getting an interview anywhere. Ended up at the car wash with some friends. One day, I goofed off in front of the wrong person, and that was the end of it. Thought I’d never get hired again.
No references. No great resume. But I learned a few things, made a few new friends, and got the wild idea I could still be the person I wanted to be—make my own company, and in the meantime, find another who’d wanna hire me.
I just had some work to do to get there. ”
“Right. Work. I just don’t think another entry-level job is gonna allow for the effort I need to put into my schooling again.
” Even Angel was cutting back on shifts after he cashed out on Valentine’s Day tips.
Although I could ask Kat if I could work at Hot Contra and do homework in her office, I didn’t want to rely on her generosity any more than I already had.
“Jen’s lucky her company lets her work remote sometimes.
If I could do something hands-off like that… ”
“Then you wouldn’t need this car,” Dad said.
“I’d still have errands.” And maybe classes to attend.
“Well, I can talk to your mother about finances. I’m sure we can add you to our insurance plan if you’ll also pay for that. Are you sure that’s what you wanna do?”
“Yeah.” I wasn’t going to move to a city with better public transit, and I couldn’t rely on everyone else until I got on my feet again. This was a huge step in the right direction.
Dad walked off to call Mom away from people testing the stereo systems while I double-checked the windshield wipers and windows all worked the way they were supposed to. After all, if I wasn’t careful, this vehicle would soon be the only thing I had going for me.
Living out of my car sounded better than dealing with Jen. That must be how Angel felt about his mom’s boyfriends.
Dad held the phone aloft from his ear. “Tori, in exchange for our financial contribution, would you consent to a weekly dinner?”
I stifled a laugh. “Are we taking after the Glimores?”
“The who?”
“Never mind.” It wasn’t like he’d paid attention to my after-school comfort show. “Schedule permitting, yes. I’d be happy to have a family dinner on a regular basis.”
“She said yes,” he told mom on the phone.
“Ah, wonderful,” she cheered loud enough for me to hear.
Dad put her on speaker phone. “Anything else you want to tell her?” he asked.
“I love you,” she said. “Oh, and see if you can convince Kat to come once in a while. We can always bring food to you too. But how about you come here tonight?”
“Oh, tonight?” I’d planned on getting groceries with Angel. I supposed that could wait—especially for a free meal now that I was on a tighter budget. “Is Jen okay with that?” I asked.
“She’ll be fine. Or she’ll be in her room. Either way, it’ll be good to see you again,” she said.
I blinked away the tearful sting of appreciation. My mom wasn’t perfect, but I never doubted that she loved me.
“Okay. See you later,” I said.
“Oh, and I’ll send you a list of the top ten safest cars. Can’t ignore those consumer ratings,” she lectured.
“Thanks, Mom. Love you.”
“Love you too,” she said, then hung up.
Dad appraised the sedan. “So, is this the one?”
I nodded. “I think so. Just need to make sure it’s on Mom’s top ten brand list.” My phone pinged with a screenshotted list, which I showed my dad. “There it is.”
“Time to negotiate pricing and perks then.” He tightened his belt and flexed his shoulders back. “Do you want to try it yourself?”
“I’ll learn from the master.” Reading the room, these people respected my dad and his credit rating more than an unemployed twenty-something.
But I picked the salesperson we went with, the person who’d waved earlier and committed the least offenses.
Mom called partway through the negotiations.
“Should I take this?” I whispered to Dad.
“Go ahead. I want to go over this warranty,” he said.
The salesperson flashed me a strained smile as I slid out of their little cubicle with my phone to my ear.
“Hey, what’s up? Did this car have a secret recall we don’t know about?” I asked.
“We’re gonna have to reschedule our dinner,” Mom said reluctantly.
“How come?”
“Jen’s having contractions.”
I straightened my spine as if that’d help me hear her better. Was my sister faking a medical event to get out of dinner with me?
“How far apart are they?” I asked, hedging my bets in case it was true.
Mom sounded like she turned away from the phone. “How far apart are the contractions, sweetie?”
Jen blubbered in the background.
“She's not sure. They’re just starting,” Mom said.
“Okay, well, it might be false labor, but she should definitely rest up. If her water breaks or the contractions get to be about five minutes apart, take her to the hospital. I hope she feels better.”
“Thanks, hon. I’ll call you when—”
“Wait,” Jen whined loudly, then sounded as if they’d switched to speaker phone. “Would you come to the hospital?”
“You want…what?” We weren’t even on speaking terms. Now she wanted me to be there while she gave birth?
“You’re the only one of us with medical knowledge.” She sniffled.
“But Mom has a lot more practical experience.”
“I know. And I need her too. But I think all this stress has been bad for the baby.” She let out something between a sob and a wheeze. “Can we…stop fighting? Please? For the baby? I can’t do this without you, Tori.”
I leaned away from the phone and sighed.
How could I say no to the baby?
Besides, stopping by the hospital might be good for me. I had to reassess my future and welcome a new life into it. If that went badly, at least now I’d have a getaway car.