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“Already are,” he says.
“Do you live to annoy me?”
“As much as you live to bug the shit out of me.” He parks the truck and we both hop out, taking shots all the way into the open garage door.
A tool clatters to the ground under an old Buick and Knox pops out from under the car, shooting a warning look at both of us. “No bickering.”
“That’s what I told him.” I cross my arms and send Jax a haughty look.
“Fuck you, you said I don’t want to bicker with you, not no bickering.”
“Sem-fucking-mantics.”
“Dear god, make it stop,” Roger complains.
“Amen.” Knox picks up some tools and pushes them into our hands. “If you’re here, the least you can do is finish this oil change and air filter replacement.”
Both of us jump in to help because this shop is ours too.
KNOX
Watching the twins work, I lean against the toolbox and sip the sweet tea Callie put in my Thermos. After a few minutes, Roger joins me with a shake of his head. “Those two are like a comedy show.”
“Try living with them.”
“Business is good,” Roger hedges.
I wait for the but because usually he always has a follow up. It never comes. I shoot him a look. “And?”
He holds up his hands. “Listen, I know I was tough on you in the beginning, but I knew how much it meant to you, and I, shit. I guess I fucked up some. Your dad always helped people. I guess I didn’t see it working out given how badly it went for him.”
I can’t really blame Roger for being worried. This is one of two locally owned auto shops in town and he’s spent his entire career here. This place means as much to him as it does to me. “Well, your suggestion to do the free filter replacement with the oil change helped.”
The margin on the oil change was enough and turns out Roger was right, once we got people in, they kept coming back. Now it’s hard to keep up, but with my brothers helping out on Saturdays we’re managing just fine.
Except this Saturday we’re closed for Callie’s grand opening.
Roger and I watch them work a bit more, then he exhales and pushes off the toolbox. “Guess I’ll get back to it. I’m almost done with this tire change, then I’ll start on the Toyota’s belt?”
I nod. We have a few more quick fixes to get through. Leaving my brothers to wrap up what they’re working on, I pull around an old Honda that needs new brakes and park it next to the bay.
“All done?” I ask Jax who tosses a rag over the side of the sink. “Yup. Filter is done. Brax is wrapping up the oil.”
“Actually, I’m finished.” The creeper rolls out from under the vehicle, revealing Brax who’s button up shirt is smudged with oil.
I make a note to buy him a new one. “Can one of you go check out Mr. Robinson and the other pull the car to the front? We have brakes next.”
“I’ll do the register.” Jax is already halfway to the lobby.
Brax and I lower the jacks and he pulls the vehicle around right as Mr. Robinson is walking out of the building. Hope you’re happy with the business, old man. Talking to my dad might make me seem a little unhinged, but it’s helped process the grief and keep the connection we had alive.
I know he’d be proud of what we’ve done. How Brax won teacher of the year, Jax’s new career, and the sudden booming business at the shop. But most of all, I think he’d be proud the three of us worked to get Callie back, because he loved her as much as we did.
I drive the Honda into the bay and Jax and Brax join me as I use the bigger jack to lift the vehicle up so we can work on the brakes without straining our backs. Brax unbuttons his shirt and tosses it on the tool box. The white tee underneath is about to get covered in filth, but he’s already tackling lug nuts, not at all bothered by the grime.
Jax mirrors his movements, concentration wrinkling his brow.
Appreciation fills my chest. Their help means a lot to me, but I’m not about to get sappy. I’m their big brother. I’m the tough one. So I pick up my tool and get to work loosening the nuts on the back tire as we fall into a seamless flow.
