He releases an exasperated breath. “The wheel bearing is bad, which will require parts and labor. Your brake pads are about seventy percent worn, and I’d recommend replacing the rotors at the same time. I checked your tires, and they’re nearly at the wear indicator. You probably have around 5,000 miles left, but with winter coming, it’s best to replace them. Your oil and fluids are low. According to thesticker, it’s about three thousand miles past due for an oil change. You’re lucky your engine didn’t burn up.”
Of course it can’t just be one thing. I rest my forehead in my hand as my stomach sinks to the bottom of the growing black hole. “What’s the bottom line?”
His deep voice proceeds through an itemized list, and I slump back in my chair, feeling like I might drown underneath the weight of the numbers.
When he’s done, it’s my turn for silence.
“Sarah.” He barks my name, and I snap to.
“Yeah.”
“How do you want to proceed?”
I fill my cheeks with air and slowly let it out. “Do I have a choice in any of this?”
“Not on the wheel bearing. The brakes and rotors could wait, but you’ll save on labor if we do them at the same time. You need your oil changed and fluids drained and replenished. Tires can wait, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”
I could puke and think about putting my head between my knees as my chest constricts to half its size. “You said you have to order parts. How long until those come in?”
“For the wheel bearing, about a week.”
Nooooo.“Is it possible to drive it in the meantime?”
“Sarah.” The way he says my name makes my skin prickle. “Your wheel could fall off.”
I close my eyes. “Sooooo, you’re saying no?”
He groans, and the sound brings me a millisecond of reprieve.
“Fine. Do you have any idea when you might have it fixed?”
There’s a long pause. “Once I have the parts, I’ll fit it in where I can, but it could be a few weeks. You’ll need to tell me what you want me to do about the rest of it.”
“Great.”Just freaking great. “Will you let me know when parts come in?”
“I’ll put you on speed dial.”
My life is crumbling before me, but did he just make a joke, or was that sarcasm? I. Cannot. Tell.
“Ok, then. I guess I’ll look forward to hearing your peppy voice with better news.”
There’s another grunt and grumble, and we hang up. My evening will be spent applying for a new credit card with a limit that will hopefully allow me to cover this disaster. One I’ll be lucky to pay off within my lifetime.
I log off my computer, gather my things, and meet Kat in the parking lot. Her SUV is superior to the smelly bus, especially this afternoon.
Kat pulls out of the parking lot. “Getting my hair dyed and my eyebrows waxed shouldn’t feel like a luxury, but these days, it comes close to a spa treatment.”
I rest my lunch bag in my lap. “I don’t think I’ve had my hair cut in over six months.”
Her eyes drift from the road to my head, running over my sleek ponytail. “Seriously? What kind of shampoo do you use? It’s so shiny, and you don’t even look like you have split ends.”
I smile. “The cheapest bottle I can find.”
She gasps as if that’s blasphemy. “We can’t be friends.” She raises her hand between us.
My phone buzzes, and I pull it from my purse. It’s the invoice for the inspection Slade assured he would send.
SLADE: I need to know about tires and brakes.
