Chapter 33
Logan
Erin’s birthday party turned into an all-day affair, but it was great. People swung by to deliver presents and congratulate her on the escape, including some of Gage’s friends. Asher and Erin hit it off pretty quickly, for some reason, and before I knew it, a shopping trip was scheduled.
Better him than me.
Gage did tell me quietly that his mom had shown up to the house, again.
But that Cooper hadn’t let her in. And they’d both agreed to go no contact with her.
I was sad for him, because being forced into that position with parents was shitty as hell.
I’d know. But I was proud of him for cutting that toxicity out of his life, too.
It did seem to be the day for it. Erin, Cooper, and Gage had all found a way out of the drama, and I was very, very happy for them.
When people filed out, it left me with a little sister I loved but didn’t know super well.
She’d been tiny when I left the house, and we’d hardly seen each other in person since.
We’d have to figure out house rules and chore charts, but that was for another day.
Erin and I had been through enough today, and it was fine to just let the weekend pass.
It also felt weird to have someone living in my house. To wake up to the sounds of a shower going. To see hair products and stuff on the bathroom vanity that weren’t mine.
We had some prep to do still, as Erin started school rather soon, so we had school supplies, new clothes, and a car to shop for and only a week to do it all in.
I felt the urgency for sure, especially since Erin was replacing an entire wardrobe.
Although Grandma planned to help with all the shopping, thankfully.
I was pretty busy on Saturday just making sure Erin was all set up and ready to go, but I managed to talk to her about a car. I’d been saving up some cash so she could get her own vehicle—something we’d both prefer over me chauffeuring her everywhere.
I’d turned her loose with some guidelines on what to look for in a car and how much she could spend, expecting the hunt to take a minute or two.
Especially since she’d gone to get her hair cut, as threatened.
She came back that same afternoon with a short hairstyle she informed me was a pixie cut.
It looked great on her, but the best part of it was the way she’d touch her hair and grin, as if delighted all her long hair was gone.
I’d assumed Sunday would be a settling in period. Instead, Sunday morning my sister bounced in with a hopeful look in the middle of my coffee time.
“Logan, there’s this car I want to take a better look at.”
I mean, I had told her to hunt around online, so this wasn’t unexpected. “Now?”
“It’s actually sitting outside the Goodyear store, and I’ve gone past it twice now, and the price dropped since I last saw it. And it’s a Volvo. The exact model I want, too.”
Erin had interesting taste in cars. Basically, she wanted something super reliable, comfortable, and with enough room to drive her friends around.
Or do crazy things like road trips. It was her car.
I didn’t care, so long as she wasn’t picking a lemon.
Still, I found it funny, ’cause at her age I would have immediately gone for a sports car or a truck.
Well, just proved she had good sense, I guessed.
Shrugging, I grabbed my wallet and keys, and we loaded into the Jeep to take a look. It wasn’t far of a drive, like five minutes, but Plymouth also wasn’t a big town. You could cross the whole thing in ten minutes.
Anyway, we pulled up to the Goodyear store and sure enough, a Volvo sat at the front of the lot, a For Sale sign on the windshield. Two other prices had been crossed out, with a new price listed underneath. Holy shit, this car had dropped six thousand dollars?
“Okay, what’s wrong with it,” I muttered, staring at the car.
“That’s my question. From the outside looking in, it seems fine?”
Yeah, I didn’t trust that.
Still, I was curious. I was no mechanic, but I’d worked on my own vehicles a time or three, so I knew something about them. If the issue was fixable, then this car was a steal of a deal. The owner only wanted four thousand.
I pulled up Kelley Blue Book and entered in what I knew of the car—there was a handwritten info sheet taped to the side window.
The website claimed the car could sell for eight thousand, assuming it was in great condition.
I didn’t see anything wrong, really. A scuff mark on the paint here, a small ding there, all tiny cosmetic things.
Interior seemed fine, too, with leather seats that looked a bit faded from the sun but nothing bad.
I waved Erin in closer. “Walk with me, let me show you what to look for.”
We walked the car, me showing her to watch the seams of the vehicle, ’cause if they were a little off, that was a good indication the car had been worked on or had been in an accident.
We didn’t see any indications of work done.
I peeked under the car to check for rust, and I didn’t spot any, which was a rare thing on a used vehicle in Michigan, let me tell ya.
This was just getting weirder.
“Sus,” Erin said.
“Very sus.” I tapped my finger on the hood of the car and then decided. “Call the owner.”
Erin tapped in the number from the info sheet, and the call connected pretty quickly.
“Hello?”
“Hi, my name is Erin.” Erin kept the call on speaker. “I’m calling about the Volvo?”
The woman sighed wearily. “Let me answer the question you’re wondering about.
No, nothing is mechanically wrong with the car.
It runs great. The problem is, something happened on the inside, and now it smells rank.
I’ve had it professionally cleaned—twice—and I can’t get the smell out. That’s the reason for the price.”
Okay, the price made a lot more sense. Also, I had a viable solution to the problem. “Ma’am? I’m Logan, Erin’s brother. Can you meet us here to look at the car?”
“Oh!” Her tone changed to excitement. “You’re still interested?”
“Yes, I’ve got an idea on how to fix the smell. Can you meet us here?”
“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in three minutes.”
“See you soon, then.”
Erin disconnected the call, lips pursed as she stared up at me. “I know what my possible solution is, but what’s yours?”
“Got a buddy who does upholstery work on cars. He can completely redo this interior. Also, car seats are not as expensive as people think they are. We can replace the interior for maybe a thousand or two, and you’ll have an amazingly good car for a great price. What’s your solution?”
“I follow professional cleaners on TikTok, and they handle stuff like vomit, pee, et cetera. They all use the same cleaning product to get the smell out. Depending on what she tells us, I think I can get the smell gone. They sell the stuff at local hardware stores.”
“Oh-ho. Then let’s use your plan as first option. I’m backup option.”
“Deal.” She gleefully rubbed her hands together. “I’m so excited. I hope she’s telling the truth and there’s nothing mechanically wrong with it.”
“Me too.” I could see the VIN number on the windshield and quickly checked the Carfax online.
A new Volvo, similar to this one, pulled in next to us. A woman with a messy bun, yoga pants, and a shirt that had seen better days hopped out, giving us a bright smile.
“Hi! I’m Emma, I’m the owner of the car.”
I extended a hand. “Logan. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Hi, I’m Erin. I’ll actually be buying the car. You said there’s a smell?”
“It’s horrendous.” Emma looked both mad and resigned. “Here, let me open the car, you can smell it yourself.”
Did I want to…?
But did I have any other choice? I had to see what we were working with.
After the first inch of the car door being opened, I got a whiff and almost gagged. Fuck! This car had been professionally cleaned twice?! Bullshit, no way. I looked at Erin, and while her nose was wrinkled, her determination didn’t seem to be wavering. Still thought she could fix it, huh?
Personally, I thought replacing the interior of the car was the only way to go.
“What happened?” Erin asked. “This is bad.”
Emma sounded like she’d repeated this story about a dozen times.
She likely had. “So, I’ve had this car for years.
It was my present to myself after landing my first job, and after that I got married, had two kids.
About two months ago, I flew out to see my parents with the kids.
My husband stayed behind, as he had a bachelor’s night to attend with one of his best friends. ”
I had a foreboding feeling I knew where this was going.
“And for some reason, he didn’t take his truck, but instead took my car.
” Emma rolled her eyes to the heavens. I didn’t know if she was praying for patience or a lightning strike, but she was super done.
“He was the designated driver for the night, or one of them. So they party, they drink, the usual. Three of his friends load up in my car, and he starts dropping people off. Only, one of them gets sick and throws up all over the passenger floorboard. The smell was bad enough it hit everyone else’s gag reflexes, according to my husband, and all four of them ended up throwing up. All. Over. My. Car.”
Yup, knew it was coming. Seen too many bachelor parties.
“Then”—Emma sadly wasn’t done—“he parks the car in the driveway and just ignores it. This car sat there, in the blazing hot sun, for three goddamn days without him even attempting to clean it out.”
I winced. “For fuck’s sake! What was he waiting on, you to come home and clean it?”
“Nailed it.”
What the shit, seriously?! What was wrong with him? I’d never do that!