Chapter 10
It's six in the morning when I hear the shower running. Six in the goddamn morning. What is she on?
I put my pillow over my head until the shower stops, and she steps out moments later, her eyes free of their black paste prison and a towel wrapped around her. She's long and lanky like me. Probably already taller than her mother.
"What time do we have to be at work?" she asks.
"Ten!" I shout from underneath my pillow.
"What?" She hasn't heard me.
I remove the pillow. "Ten! Go back to sleep!"
"Screw that, I'm gonna go get breakfast. What time do you want to leave?" she asks, running a towel through her hair.
"Go. Away."
She sighs, but leaves anyway. I don't know when she finally leaves the apartment, because I promptly fall back asleep.
When I do wake up for the day, three hours later, I take a quick shower and get ready for work. Taylor is watching MTV in the living room, writing in her notebook again. I'm actually starting to get interested in what she's writing. Maybe it's one of those girly journals. In that case, I'm not interested.
"Ready?" I ask, glancing at the cable box. 9:32.
"Finally," she says, turning off the TV and stuffing her notebook into her bag.
I decide we're going to take a detour. I stop by at Harry's, a bagel place towards the loop. Only the tourists that get tipped off by their hotel staff show up. Otherwise, it's just locals.
"Aren't we going to be late?" she asks after I pick out my bagel.
"Dave opens, we can be late," I answer. She orders a cinnamon raisin bagel with strawberry shmeer. Gross. "Didn't you already eat?"
"I'm always up for second breakfast," she says, then mumbles to herself, "Tricksey Hobbitses." She giggles to herself. And a terrifying thought strikes me; my daughter is a geek.
After we arrive at the garage, I park the Continental in the back and set Taylor to an oil change. I'm sure the kid can do it, but I want to watch her at first. And I know if I tried to put her at the front desk she'd flip.
She's pretty good. Fast, too. I let her take care of the other oil changes and a few tire rotations. By one o'clock I can tell she's getting bored. I go to the back, where she's putting the last tire on a minivan.
"Hey, Tay, wanna work on a busted Alternator?" I ask. She looks over.
"Definitely." She smiles and it's a little too sweet. "But if you ever call me Tay again you'll be walking funny for a week."