I had been staring at the same page of numbers for nearly an hour.
Maya finally took the paper from my hands.
“Daddy.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“That's not a spaceship.”
I blinked.
She held up the loan statement.
“It's boring grown-up stuff.”
I laughed despite myself.
“That's a fair description.”
She set it aside.
Then crawled into my lap.
“Is Grandpa's garage going away?”
The question hit me harder than any letter from the bank.
I wrapped my arms around her.
“I'm trying to make sure it doesn't.”
She thought about that.
Then asked, “Could we fix it?”
I looked down.
“What do you mean?”
“You always say broken things have a reason they're broken.”
I smiled sadly.
“Yeah.”
She pointed toward the letter.
“Then find the reason.”
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then she leaned back.
“Can the car lady help?”
I felt my chest tighten.
“Vanessa?”
Maya nodded.
“She seemed nice when Aunt Danielle showed me her picture.”
I frowned.
“Danielle showed you a picture?”
My daughter grinned.
“Maybe.”
I sighed.
Of course she had.
Maya continued.
“Does she like horses?”
I laughed.
“I have no idea.”
“Then you should ask her.”
She picked up a purple LEGO brick.
“People can't be friends if they don't talk.”
I stared at her.
Then looked toward the telephone on the table.
My seven-year-old daughter had somehow summarized the problem better than I had.
I was frightened.
Not only of losing the garage.
I was frightened of believing in a woman who belonged to a world I'd spent most of my life watching from the outside.
Vanessa had money.
Influence.
A company.
And people who would never look at a grease-stained mechanic as her equal.
But she had also spent an evening listening to me talk about Emily without treating the memory like an inconvenience.
She'd asked about Maya.
Shared stories about her mother.
And insisted that the loan be handled fairly rather than using it to make herself important in my life.
I had seen that.
Yet when things became difficult, I'd treated her company's involvement as though it automatically made her dishonest.
Maya climbed off my lap.
Then announced that her spaceship needed a larger cafeteria.
I stood.
Picked up the phone.
And called Vanessa.
She answered on the fourth ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
There was a pause.
“Marcus?”
I closed my eyes.
“Yeah.”
She sounded cautious.
“Is everything all right?”