“You do?”
“Yes.”
“My dad said you were.”
Dean looked up sharply.
Lucas continued.
“He didn't like you.”
A tiny smile.
“Mutual.”
“But he said you were talented.”
Dean became quiet.
“Then what happened?”
Lucas asked.
Dean looked away.
No defense.
Maybe he did not have one.
Finally:
“Talent stops feeling special when people stop noticing.”
Lucas did not understand.
Dean explained.
“You get good.”
“Then good becomes expected.”
“Customer only notices when you're wrong.”
“Another shop gets praised.”
“Some young guy solves something you missed.”
“Eventually you want people to see you're still the smartest person in the room.”
Lucas thought.
“So you created rooms where you'd be smartest.”
Dean smiled bitterly.
“Something like that.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
Dean laughed once.
“Yes.”
Lucas looked at him.
“Why my dad?”
“What?”
“You hated him.”
Dean shook his head.
“No.”
Lucas stared.
Dean continued.
“I hated that he didn't care.”
“About you?”
“About winning.”
Lucas almost laughed.
“My dad cared about winning.”
“Not the way I did.”
Dean looked toward the front windows.
“Daniel could fix something, hand the keys back, and go home.”
“He didn't need everybody to know another shop missed it.”
“He enjoyed it.”
“Sure.”
“But he didn't need it.”
Dean looked at Lucas.
“I did.”
Lucas said nothing.
Dean nodded toward him.
“Don't.”
“Don't what?”
“Need it.”
Then Dean walked away.
Lucas stood among oil filters for several minutes.
He never saw him again.
At twenty, Lucas completed the program.
Top three in his class.
Grizz attended graduation wearing the leather vest.
Erin sat beside him.
The two of them cried more than Lucas.
He denied crying entirely despite photographic evidence.
After graduation, Grizz offered Lucas a full mechanic position.
Good salary.
Benefits.
His own bay.
Lucas accepted.
For one year.
Then he drove past the old Bennett Cycle & Repair building.
The landlord had rented it twice since Daniel died.
First to a detailing business.
Then storage.
Now empty again.
The faded outline of the old sign remained above the door.
Lucas pulled over.
Sat in his truck.
Looked.
Then called the number on the FOR LEASE sign.
Not because he had a plan.
Just a question.
Price?
Higher than before.
Deposit?
Painful.
Utilities?
Separate.
He hung up.
Drove away.
That evening he told no one.
Next day, Grizz said:
“How much?”
Lucas stared.
“What?”
“Rent.”
Lucas groaned.
“How do you know everything?”
“Small town.”
“Did the landlord call you?”
“He asked whether I thought you could run a shop.”
Lucas’s stomach dropped.
“What did you say?”
“No.”
Lucas stared.
Grizz smiled.
“I said you could fix bikes.”