Chapter 9. PSA Don’t Forget to Regularly Service Your Car
CHAPTER 9
PSA: Don’t Forget to Regularly Service Your Car
“Rob Carmichael,” I stared at the wonderful sight before my eyes, “you’re a miracle worker. A fairy godfather. A heavenly angel sent from above.”
After only three days of work, Rob and his crew had removed the fallen tree, patched up the gaping hole in the roof, and replaced all the rotting roof tiles. The leaky pipes were gone, and in their place were brand-new heavy-duty brass pipes instead. His team was now replacing the damaged floor tiles, and the speed and competence with which they worked on everything had obliterated any lingering doubts I’d had about faking a relationship with Alec. If he hadn’t introduced me to Rob, I’d probably still be hacking away at the fallen tree right now, because no matter how many video tutorials I watched, I could never do what they did.
“And you, Ellie Pang, are good for my ego.” Rob grinned. “You might sing a different tune once you’ve started painting the walls though. Sure you’re up for it, E?”
“Absolutely. Anything I can do to help.”
“Knock yourself out, then. Sing out if you need anything.”
I donned my protective gear and spread the drop cloths on the floor, then got to work. Two hours later, I had just finished applying the first coat of paint to the last section of the wall, when an unknown number flashed on my phone.
“Is this Ellie?” A friendly voice rumbled from the other end. “I’m Mike Chang, the mechanic who picked up your Honda the other day.”
“Hey, Mike. Did you find out what was wrong with it?”
“We did. When was the last time you serviced the car?”
My stomach sank. “A while ago. Close to a year, maybe.”
“No wonder your engine failed.” There was a low chuckle. “The level of oil in your car is practically nonexistent. Alec told me you’ve just driven it across the country?”
Oh fuck. “Yes.”
“When the oil is low, it damages the engine. You could have avoided this if you had serviced it regularly. Sorry to tell you this, but you’ll need to replace the engine.”
Another point to add to my parents’ list on how I couldn’t survive on my own. How many disasters had I notched under my belt in less than a week?
“Sure.” I pressed my thumb to the bridge of my nose, mentally preparing myself. “How much would that be?”
“Around eight to ten thousand. I could also rebuild the old one for half the cost, so about four to five. You’ll get better gas mileage out of a rebuilt engine, and it can usually last as long as a new one.” The low chuckle returned. “Just don’t forget to service the car.”
A headache began to pound at the back of my head. Eight to ten thousand. That would throw my budget way off and stretch my already thin account balance to its very last legs.
“Or you could look at buying a secondhand car and sell your old one for scrap metal.”
I didn’t know whether to cry or laugh, because even though he meant well, it was the most absurd suggestion I’d ever heard. The only way I could afford a secondhand car was to sell one of my kidneys, or other non-vital body organs. Plus, the CR-V was my first-ever car, and I’d learned how to drive in it. It had scratches and dents, and it wasn’t perfect, but getting rid of it would be like saying goodbye to my own beating heart and letting go of the last tangible reminder I had of my Engkong and Emak.
It was clear: I wasn’t parting with the car, or my heart, or any of my kidneys. I had to save money somewhere else.
“Did you say rebuilding the engine would be cheaper? Let’s go with that.”
After agreeing on the cost and timeline, I hung up and looked around the shop with exasperation. In a few days, I’d be at least four thousand dollars poorer. A few minutes ago, I’d been pleased with the progress, but right now, the self-doubt came back in full force.
Am I biting off more than I can chew?
No. I steeled myself. This was only a minor setback. All I had to do was readjust the budget, and things should be back on track. The clock was ticking, so I had to dust myself off, stop the moping and the pity party. The only option was to keep pushing forward.
Abandoning the paint, I picked up my phone again and scrolled through my emails. Rob had sent me a list of materials and estimated costs for the work, so I made a mental note to chat with him to see if we could substitute some things around.
Just then, my phone pinged with a reminder that I needed a dress for this weekend’s function. I’d donated all my fancy party dresses before I left home, so unless I wanted to turn up wearing these dusty, paint-splattered overalls, I had to find a presentable (and affordable) outfit in less than forty-eight hours. The thought of spending what little amount I had in my bank account on something so frivolous plunged me back into the deep, dark well of gloom and dread.
“Hey, neighbor.” There was a rap on the front door, and Kim strolled in with a grin. “You want to grab dinner together later?”
“Sure. What do you have in mind?”
“There’s this awesome Japanese fusion place over at the Plaza’s rooftop area called Ocha Izakaya. They have the best sushi tacos and sake in the city. I’ve been flat-out busy at the shop, so I need to unwind and chill out tonight. My housemate Jenna is coming, too.”
“I’m in.” An idea popped into my mind. “Before that though, can I steal you for an hour? To help me find a dress for an event?”
Her face lit up. “Hell yes. Absolutely.”
“Great. I’m broke, so something not too expensive. If you could also recommend a good hairdresser, that’d be awesome.”
“Consider it done.” Kim rubbed her hands, looking excited. “I know the city like the back of my hand. You, my friend, won’t even recognize yourself when we’re done.”
That afternoon, Kim took me to a vintage boutique inside the Plaza. Jenna met us there, and they led me to the back of the store, where there were racks upon racks of secondhand dresses and gowns. We found a few that still had tags, which they gleefully thrust at me. Both of them grabbed a few dresses for themselves before ushering me into the changing room.
“Where’s the party?” Jenna’s voice carried across the partition from the stall on my left, as I removed the first dress off the hanger.
“Not sure.” I slipped into a cute, patterned navy dress. “I’m just going as a favor for a friend. He needed a plus-one.”
“Is this ‘friend’ the building industry expert we met the other day?” Kim asked, her voice coming from the stall on my right. There was a soft curse, followed by the sound of a zip being pulled up. “ Ouch. The tall, cute one?”
Next, I tried on a mint-green plaid shirtdress and instantly decided to add it to my collection. “Alec? I guess he is cute, if you like the guarded, brooding type.”
“Who doesn’t?” Kim chuckled. “I’d sign up, too, but he’s obviously taken with you.”
“Me?” I paused halfway through zipping up the last dress. “No, he’s not.”
Jenna said, “Ha!” as Kim’s chuckle turned into a scoff, her voice announcing, “You need to get some prescription glasses.”
We all stepped out of our changing rooms, and they both nodded in approval at the black wrap dress I’d just put on. The material hugged my body, and the V-neck plunged deeper than I was used to, exposing a hint of cleavage.
Kim gave me a wolf whistle. “You look stunning.”
“I second that,” Jenna said.
“It’s not too much?” A splinter of nervousness poked at me. “I don’t really need to look good, just presentable. This isn’t a date or anything.”
“Still, it doesn’t hurt,” came Kim’s cheerful reply. “Sexy dress, flirty heels, new hairdo. It’ll make you feel good, and you can’t go wrong with that, right?”
At their prodding, I bought all three dresses, a pair of black stiletto heels, plus a pair of jeans that still looked brand-new, and managed to leave my bank account with minimal damage.
“Let’s do something about your hair.” Kim scrunched up her nose as she gave it a thorough appraisal. “When was the last time you colored it?”
“Never?” I raised my eyebrows at Kim’s disapproving look. “What’s wrong with that? I’ve always had dark hair.”
“Then it’s high time for a change.”
They led me out of the vintage boutique and into a nearby Korean hair salon, where I spent the next hour having my head massaged and my hair trimmed, curled, and highlighted. When the hairdresser finally whipped off the barber cape with a flourish, I gaped at the mirror, not believing it was my reflection that was staring back. Shimmering ribbons of ash-brown strands now swirled through my locks, and the ends of my hair had the prettiest waves I’d ever seen. I looked different and refreshed, nothing like my old self. I even felt different. Like my new hairdo made me powerful enough to take on anything in the world.
Like I was finally taking control of my own life.
“You look amazing,” Kim announced, as we headed to dinner. “Trust me, Mister Building Expert won’t know what hit him.”
“He won’t notice. It’s a business function. He’ll be busy networking.”
Kim snorted. “If he doesn’t notice anything, then you both need glasses.”
Jenna gave me a wide smile when she caught my eye. She was an Asian Australian who had migrated to the States for work a year ago. “A magnifying glass, maybe?”
“My eyesight is fine,” I said, as we arrived at the restaurant. “Trust me, getting involved with him is a horrible idea. There’s too much baggage between us.”
“Why?” Kim’s eyes were curious. “What happened between you two?”
“It’s a long, boring story.”
A waiter ushered us to our table. Ocha Izakaya was a delightful mix of traditional and contemporary, with simple, modern wooden tables and chairs, soft lighting from the Japanese-style lanterns hanging above, and prints of mountains and cherry blossoms decorating the walls.
“We’ve got all night.” Kim picked up the menu, gave it a cursory once-over, then slid it toward me. “Try the spicy salmon sushi tacos. Highly recommended.”
“I’m having the tempura udon,” Jenna said. “Also highly recommended.”
I chose the sushi tacos and the dragon avocado roll, then looked up at both women, who were watching me with expectant looks on their faces. Maybe I should try changing the topic…
“So, Jenna. Which part of Australia are you from, and how do you like living in the US?”
She grinned. “I’m from Melbourne, and love the States, but we’re not talking about me.”
Kim lifted a warning finger. “Don’t you dare change the subject. You’re free to ask Jenna about her country and the kangaroos and the spiders later, but first we want to hear all about your sordid past with Monsieur Building Expert.”
I hesitated, but the glint in her eyes told me she meant business. “There was an incident. Ten years ago.”
“What kind of incident?” Kim wriggled her eyebrows. “The sexy kind?”
“No. I used to have a crush on him when we were teenagers.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Kim smirked, as Jenna murmured her agreement.
“He was my older brother’s best friend. I foolishly thought I was in love with him, so convinced we belonged together. But he’s always been so cold and unfriendly with me, even though he’s charming with everyone else. God knows how many hours I wasted trying to make him notice me, hoping he’d return my feelings.”
The bottle of sake came, and Kim motioned for me to continue as she poured some of the clear liquid into three cups.
“The week I turned eighteen, we went out to celebrate my birthday. Me, my brother, Eric, Alec, and my best friend, Naomi. We went skating, played a few games of mini golf, then had dinner. It was one of the best nights of my life.”
“Ahh, young love.” Kim sighed.
“After that, Alec and my brother went to see some of their friends, and Naomi and I tagged along.” I cringed as memories of that night came flooding back. “I remembered thinking, ‘maybe he’ll notice me now because I’m finally a grown-up.’ So I waited for the right time, then cornered him alone and professed my undying love.”
“That’s very gutsy.” Jenna gave me a supportive nod. “What did he say?”
“Nothing. He just stared at me. I thought maybe he couldn’t hear me because the restaurant was too loud, so I repeated what I said.”
Kim’s eyes widened. “And?”
“He was quiet for the longest time. Then he said, very bluntly, that he wasn’t interested in me. He didn’t feel the same way, and he never would, because I meant nothing to him but as Eric’s little sister.” Ten years later, and it still stung. “Then he walked away.”
Jenna gasped, while Kim hissed under her breath, “Jerk.”
Our food came, and I bolused for the sushi before continuing the story, but my appetite had disappeared. “A few of their friends were egging me and Naomi that night, daring us to drink, making bets on who was the more sensitive lightweight between the two of us.”
Kim frowned. “Is this where things get ugly?”
Nodding, I inhaled a long breath. “Eric was on a call outside, so it was just me, Naomi, Alec, and those other guys. Alec just sat there, looking bored, uninterested in everything. Didn’t say a word, didn’t tell those guys to leave us alone. And you know what I thought?” My laugh sounded hollow, as my captive audience shook their heads. “I thought, maybe it’s my chance to impress him. Maybe he’ll finally see me as an adult, not as Eric’s uncool little sister.”
Jenna winced. “Oh, Ellie.”
“Naomi tried to stop me, saying we’re not supposed to, and how we could get in trouble, but I was so determined to impress him. So I took a sip. Then another sip, until I ended up finishing an entire bottle of beer. And the next bottle, then a cocktail. That’s when the shit hit the fan. I had a severe hypo and passed out.”
Jenna interrupted, “Wait, what’s a hypo?”
“It’s short for hypoglycemia. That’s when my glucose level drops too low, below what is healthy for me.” I shuddered as I thought of what could have happened. “In severe cases, it can cause the person to become unconscious, and if left untreated, it can be fatal.”
There was an “Oh my God!” from Jenna, and a quiet “Fucking hell,” from Kim.
“They rushed me to the ED. I knew I brought it on myself for having those drinks without thinking of the consequences. But for a long time, I blamed him for what had happened, because he could’ve stopped those jerks from taunting us, but he didn’t.”
“But you’re drinking alcohol now.” Kim gave me a puzzled look and pointed at my sake cup. “Why couldn’t you then?”
“It’s different for everyone, but for me, it was a combination of too much physical activity and too much alcohol that night. It was also my first time drinking, and I didn’t know how to properly estimate the insulin for the drinks,” I said. “It decreased my blood sugar down to a dangerous level. Not long after, Alec left home, and I never saw him again until last week.”
“Was he the reason you moved here?” Jenna asked.
“No. I didn’t even know he lived here. I needed to get away from my family and that disastrous marriage proposal, and the right opportunity just happened to be in Port Benedict.”
Kim raised an eyebrow. “What marriage proposal?”
I told them about George and the viral video, and both their eyes bulged.
“I knew you looked familiar when we first met.” Kim whistled. “Wow. You were almost engaged to the George Fitzgerald?”
“You made the right choice,” Jenna said. “He’s rich and good-looking and all that, but he seems too uptight. Good on you for listening to your heart and saying no.”
“Hottie Building Expert is way sexier than George Fitzgerald anyway.” Kim frowned. “Although after hearing your story, maybe you should’ve said yes to George after all.”
I shook my head. “No, it was the right decision.”
“Having said that,” Kim continued, “A lot of things can change in ten years, and I could tell that Alec likes you now, because the man couldn’t take his eyes off you when I saw you two that morning. I’d probably be wary of him, too, if I were you, but there’s nothing wrong with keeping your options open and exploring new possibilities. He might be a completely different person today compared to ten years ago.”
I made a noncommittal grunt, not willing to admit that she might be right.
“And, by the way, you were making moony eyes at him, too,” Jenna added. “Your chemistry could light up this whole city. Cliché, but true.”
“He’s just a friend now.” I wasn’t ready to tell anyone about our fake relationship agreement. “What happened between us is in the past. And I’ve got too many things on my plate to worry about unnecessary distractions.”
Both my friends gave me dubious looks, as if they weren’t convinced with my statement.
I couldn’t blame them, because neither was I.