Daylight
Chelsea looked again at the bill in her hands, but the number at the bottom remained distressingly large. "That much, huh?" she said unhappily, setting it down again on the counter.
"Fraid so," the mechanic replied. He was a huge, burly man, the type that usually made her want to clutch her purse tighter and walk a little faster, but the almost tiny set of wireframe glasses on his face somehow robbed him of menace. His eyes had also not once dipped below her collar when they spoke, which put him light-years ahead of her usual mechanic.
"Is there anything on here that's... I don't know, non-vital?" Chelsea glanced at the itemized estimate again. "With my husband still overseas, and the kids to take care of, and the house needing work..." She forced herself to stop. No sense forcing a complete stranger to listen to all her troubles; he probably had enough of his own, and though he looked sympathetic, he was still shaking his head.
"Your transmission is more or less completely shot, and it looks like the radiator is about to go too. Which is not to mention a half-dozen other, smaller problems, that are gonna turn into big problems if you don't nip 'em in the bud now." He wiped his hands on a rag and shrugged. "I can ignore those things if you really want, but somewhere down the line it's going to cost you even more."
"Wait, wait." Chelsea pointed out a line to him. "'Body work'? Can't we leave that off?"
The mechanic chuckled a little. "You could, I suppose, but all that line actually means is that I'll plug up the holes in the floor of your car."
She handed the bill back to him and nodded firmly. "Forget the holes. I'll just buy thicker floormats."
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