Chapter 5
KELSEY
My dad swears from under my car. “Kels, how long has that light been on?”
I lean against the passenger door, looking down at him. He’s only visible from the neck down, but I can picture the irritated look on his face.
“I don’t know. Probably a few weeks?”
He lets out an annoyed sigh like only a dad can. “Jesus, Kels. You basically have no brake pads left and the rotors aren’t in great shape either.”
“Oh. Is that why they’ve been squealing?”
He shimmies out from under the car and looks up at me.
“Please tell me you didn’t think that was a normal sound?”
“I could tell you that or I could tell you the truth.”
I smirk at him, but I don’t think he finds it funny. He closes his eyes and mutters under his breath.
“I mean who needs brakes, right?”
He glares at me. “OK. That better be a joke.”
I shrug. “I just figured they’d get better on their own, like they were breaking in or something.”
He rubs his temples. “Dear Lord, that’s not how they work. Help me up?”
He reaches up and I grab his hand, pulling him to his feet. He takes off his gloves and dusts off his jeans.
Dad isn’t a mechanic, but he’s always been handy and works hard no matter what he’s doing.
That’s something he instilled in me—we buckle down and find our own fixes.
Growing up, that meant he was always doing things around our house.
Even after my parents sold the house I grew up in, he still helped at Grandma’s house , so I never held it against them for leaving Jackson.
At least they waited until I graduated high school and was living with Monica.
“So can you fix them?” I ask, raising my hands in a pleading gesture. “Pretty please?”
He gives me a soft, apologetic smile. “I wish I could, but I don’t have the right tools. You’ll need to take it to a shop.”
Groaning, I slump against the car. Great.
That’s not exactly in my budget right now.
The rent for my current apartment is cheaper than Jackson, but with the gas from the commute and now needing to pay for new brakes it’s going to be tight this month.
I’m already worried that my rent is going to increase in a couple months when my lease is up.
Dad pats me on the back and must sense what I’m thinking. “Take it to the mechanic here, not Jackson. Get a quote, but they should be cheaper.”
I nod. “Thanks, Dad.”
He sighs. “Sorry I can’t help more.”
“It’s alright. I’ll figure it out.” Because that’s what I always do.
“That’s my girl.” He tilts his head toward the back door. “Got time for a bite? It’s a special day. Your mom made steak and eggs, and you know how she is about letting me have red meat.”
I start to say something when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and see the message from Monica.
Monica: Are you going to make it in today or do I need to cover your deliveries?
“Shit. No, I need to get to work.” I give him a quick hug. “I’ll see you guys soon.”
He laughs. “All good. Just means more steak for me.”
Felix hops out of the car and sprints ahead of me into Cowgirl Coffee.
I’ll always be grateful that Sandy, Monica’s grandma, lets me bring him.
He’s supposed to stay in the café lounge side, so I’m sure he’s off to his bed in the corner.
Like me, he’s pretty good at minding his own business and not bothering anyone.
Although Sandy owns the building and Cowgirl Coffee, she’s basically let Monica and I run the downtown location for the last few years.
Across town, there’s a couple staff members that run the drive thru location.
Whenever Sandy comes in, I always love the way she beams at seeing how we run Cowgirl Coffee the way she did with her best friend, my grandma.
Either way, it’s a huge relief because with my long commute, I’d feel like the worst dog mom if Felix was stuck inside at my apartment all day.
Setting my jacket and bag in the kitchen, I head to the front counter. Fortunately, it looks like Monica survived the Sunday morning rush.
“What was it this time?” she asks.
I grab my apron and tie it around my waist, smiling innocently at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She lowers her eyes at me. “Really, girl?”
“Oh, come on. I’m not that late.”
She snorts a laugh and shakes her head. “I’m going with car trouble. I can hear you coming a mile away with those brakes.”
Maybe they really are bad if everyone else can hear them. I guess I’ll be moving new brakes to the top of my priority list and budget.
“Well, if you know a cheap mechanic, let me know.”
She rolls her eyes before pointing at a stack of boxes on the back counter. “Those are ready for you whenever you feel like it.”
I look at the boxes, full of bagged coffee beans.
We have a reputation for the best coffee in town.
In part, because of cute drink names like ‘Honey Badger’, which I created back in high school when my caffeine addiction first started, playing with recipes.
Our drink specials have always been something I enjoy creating, and the customers seem to love them too.
And the other part of our reputation comes from roasting our own beans. Not long after Monica and I expanded into roasting, local restaurants started buying their coffee directly from us. So it’s my job to deliver their weekly orders.
I look through the order slips taped to each box, and one catches my eye—Gloria’s.
Looking back at Monica, I find her already watching me with amusement. I glare at her. “Are you sure you don’t want to make the deliveries today?”
“Nope. I think you’ll enjoy it. Just do it at the end of your shift and swing by my place after. Jason will make us drinks.”
She smiles before turning to take a customer’s order. She thinks she knows what she’s doing, that it’s totally harmless fun to make me go see him.
It’s been a week since he left me that slice of pie for my birthday. While I might have caved in that moment and enjoyed his gift, she knows that I don’t like seeing him more than I have to.
It’s not even just him. I don’t think she knows how much I don’t like going to that restaurant, even if the desserts and chef are to die for.