“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing for things he chose.”
Fair.
Mack nodded.
“He broke two fingers pulling me.”
“Burned his arm.”
“Spent six weeks off work.”
“I tried to give him money.”
“He refused.”
“He told me if I ever wanted to pay him back, I should help somebody who couldn’t help me back.”
Nora looked toward him.
“The same thing you told me.”
Mack nodded.
“It wasn’t mine.”
The girl stared.
“Dad said it first?”
“Your dad said versions of it all the time.”
Mack smiled faintly.
“He was annoying that way.”
Nora smiled.
Jenna looked toward the repaired van.
Then the groceries.
Then her children.
Some forms of pride protected dignity.
Others became walls.
She was no longer sure which kind she was defending.
“Thank you.”
Mack nodded.
“Okay.”
She held up one finger.
“This does not mean you follow us to Jefferson City.”
“Wasn’t planning to.”
“Or call twenty bikers to solve our life.”
Mack glanced toward his friends.
“Only five are here.”
Jenna stared.
He smiled.
“Joke.”
She almost smiled back.
Almost.
The alternator was installed.
The van started.
Strong.
For the first time all afternoon, Jenna looked relieved.
Luis closed the hood.
“Charging at fourteen-two.”
“Good to go.”
Jenna hugged Nora.
Then buckled Eli into his seat.
Mack stood near the motorcycle.
He did not ask for her number.
Did not ask where in Jefferson City they were staying.
Did not offer more money.
He had learned enough from Aaron, too late, to understand forcing help could become another way of making someone powerless.
Nora climbed into the van.
Then jumped back out.
She ran toward Mack.
Jenna called:
“Nora.”
The girl stopped a few feet from him.
She held out the thirty-three cents.
Mack looked.
“What’s that?”
“Payment.”
“No.”
“You said thirty-three.”
“I lied.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Mom says lying is bad.”
“Your dad was worse.”
Nora smiled.
Then held the coins higher.
“Take it.”
Mack opened his palm.
She dropped them in.
Three pennies.
One nickel.
One quarter.
Mack closed his fingers.
“Paid in full.”
Nora nodded.
Then looked toward his memorial patch.
“Did Dad have a biker name?”
Mack became still.
Jenna watched from the van.
Mack answered:
“Anchor.”
Nora frowned.
“That’s weird.”
“He hated it too.”
“Why Anchor?”
Mack looked toward the road.
“Because everybody thought he was the guy who kept us from drifting too far.”
Nora considered.
“That sounds like Dad.”
Mack smiled.
“Yeah.”
She ran back to the van.
Mack watched the old minivan pull onto the highway.
He stood until the taillights disappeared.
Luis joined him.
“You gonna let that be it?”
Mack looked toward the coins in his palm.
“Yes.”
Luis stared.
“No, you’re not.”
Mack looked at him.
Luis smiled.
“You’re already doing the face.”
“What face?”