“You cannot take your birthday money and secretly spend it on me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m the parent.”
“That doesn’t make brakes work.”
Dean bit the inside of his cheek so hard he almost coughed.
Rachel heard.
She looked toward the bikers.
Embarrassment arrived.
“I’m sorry.”
Marcus shook his head.
“For what?”
“This.”
She gestured helplessly.
“My son walking in here.”
“Taking up your time.”
“I’ll take the bicycle.”
Marcus looked at the partially removed rear wheel.
“No.”
Rachel blinked.
“No?”
“It isn’t safe.”
“I know it needs work.”
“It needs more than work.”
He pointed.
“Brake cable.”
“Pads.”
“Rear tire.”
“Chain adjustment.”
“Front wheel.”
“Pedal.”
Rachel’s face became increasingly worried.
“How much?”
“Nothing.”
She stared.
Marcus returned to cable.
Rachel almost laughed because the answer seemed so absurd.
“No.”
Marcus looked up.
“That’s what your son said.”
“I can pay you next Friday.”
“No.”
“I have a job.”
“I believe you.”
“Then let me pay.”
Marcus looked toward Caleb.
“He already tried.”
Rachel saw the folded money again.
Marcus continued.
“And I am not taking birthday money from an eleven-year-old trying to keep his mother from riding a bicycle with almost no front brake.”
Rachel turned away.
She covered her mouth.
Caleb stepped toward her.
“Mom?”
She pulled him into her arms.
He disappeared against her jacket.
For several seconds, she could not speak.
Marcus returned to the bicycle.
No one in the garage watched openly.
That was part of kindness too.
Not making someone perform gratitude.
Rachel eventually released Caleb.
She wiped her face.
“Thank you.”
Marcus nodded once.
“Give us thirty minutes.”
It took forty-two.
The rear tire available in the shop was technically a better grade than the one the bicycle needed.
Luis used it anyway.
Dean installed new brake cable and pads.
Marcus aligned the front wheel.
The chain was worn but not beyond saving.
He adjusted tension, cleaned it, lubricated it.
The right pedal had a loose bearing that Marcus packed and tightened.
The rear reflector was secured.
Then Marcus opened a cabinet and pulled out a small rechargeable front light.
Rachel saw.
“I didn’t ask for that.”
“I know.”
“How much?”
“Nothing.”
She shook her head.
“I can pay something.”
Marcus looked at her.
“Your son already made the offer.”
Rachel smiled weakly.
“He’s stubborn.”
“Wonder where he gets it.”
For the first time, she laughed.
Marcus attached the light.
Then he wheeled the bicycle down.
“Try brakes.”
Rachel squeezed.
The lever stopped firm halfway.
Her eyebrows rose.
“That feels completely different.”
“It’s supposed to.”
Marcus pressed the rear tire.