She had been trying to solve a family problem without adding another problem for her mother.
Nine years old.
Too young to become useful that way.
Mack looked toward Jenna.
“Your van okay?”
Her shoulders tightened again.
“Yes.”
The engine chose that exact moment to click.
Once.
Then nothing.
Jenna closed her eyes.
Mack almost smiled.
Did not.
She tried again.
Click.
Nothing.
Nora looked toward Mack.
He raised both hands.
“I didn’t touch it.”
Despite everything, Jenna laughed.
One short sound.
Then covered her face.
Mack glanced toward the pumps.
His riding partners had come outside.
One was already watching the van with mechanical suspicion.
Mack called:
“Luis.”
A compact man with a shaved head and sunglasses walked over.
“What?”
“Battery check.”
Jenna immediately said:
“No.”
Luis stopped.
Mack looked toward her.
“Just check.”
“I have roadside assistance.”
“When?”
She looked at her phone.
Battery at four percent.
The dispatch message said estimated arrival:
2 HOURS 47 MINUTES.
Mack saw her face.
“Let him check.”
Jenna sighed.
“Fine.”
Luis opened the hood.
Five minutes later:
“Battery’s weak, but that’s not the main issue.”
Jenna’s stomach dropped.
“What?”
“Alternator’s not charging.”
“How much?”
Luis looked toward Mack.
Wrong move.
Jenna noticed.
“Don’t look at him.”
Luis smiled slightly.
“Depends.”
“Part maybe two hundred.”
“Labor—”
“I can do it.”
“No.”
Jenna closed her eyes.
Of course.
Every answer involved another favor.
Mack understood.
He looked toward Luis.
“Can it make it anywhere?”
“Not far.”
“Battery might give ten minutes if we jump it.”
Jenna looked toward the road.
“We only need to get to Jefferson City.”
Luis stared.
“That’s almost two hours.”
“We’re not making that.”
Nora looked at her mother.
“Mom.”
Jenna’s eyes filled.
Not tears yet.
Anger holding them back.
Mack asked carefully:
“You have somewhere to stay tonight?”
Jenna did not answer.
He immediately regretted asking.
Nora did.
“Aunt Rebecca.”
Jenna turned.
“Nora.”
“What?”
“She’s in Jefferson City.”
Mack nodded.
“You’re heading there?”
Jenna sighed.
“Yes.”
“Moving?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
Mack looked toward the back of the van.
Blankets.
Boxes.
Laundry baskets.
A folded portable crib.
A plastic bag full of children’s clothes.
Not a trip.
A life.
He understood.
Jenna saw him understand and hated it.
“We’re between places.”
Mack nodded.
Nothing more.