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Jessi
I could feel Dad's eyes on me from the doorway, but he waited patiently for me to finish counting out some of the merchandise before he spoke. “So that was an interesting visit,” he told me, coming in to sit on one of the stools. He was drumming his fingers on his knee, which I knew meant he was thinking hard about something.
It was a big project, then. Or at least an interesting one. I was intrigued.
“What did Rip want?” I asked.
“He actually came on behalf of his boss,” Dad said. “It's J.T. who wants something done this time—but I guess I should thank my lucky stars that he's too busy to personally pay me a visit!”
I made a noise of agreement, hopping up on one of the stools next to Dad, facing him. I'd never actually met J.T.—normally when he needed something, he sent Rip. He'd popped by a few times, though, and I knew he made Dad nervous. I supposed the guy must have an impatient, angry streak if he was able to run one of the most successful biker gangs in the area. And Dad had never really been the tough guy, for all his love of bikes.
“It's actually a really big commission,” Dad went on. “Apparently J.T. wants an entirely new bike—and he's left the full design of it up to me, pretty much.” He shook his head, looking amazed. “I mean, I know the guy is loaded, but I can't even imagine ...”
I grimaced a little, thinking of just what type of trade that sort of money was probably coming from. But then again, that could be my ticket to college right there ...
“That's incredible,” I told Dad, shaking my head as well. “I could help you with the design of it. I have some ideas that-”
“No,” Dad interrupted, shaking his head with a frown on his face. “Look, Jessi—I wouldn't think that I needed to tell you how important this project is. This is a big deal. I mean, we already have the Hounds of Hades as some of our major business, but a custom design like this could really launch us, especially because J.T. wants it ready for this big Fourth of July meet-up this summer. If everyone sees him riding a bike that I built ...”
“Dad, I get that,” I said patiently. “But I've got some great designs. I'm not saying that you would have to let me take over the project or anything like that—not even close. We could work together on it, though. You could help me with one of my ideas, help me see any flaws in it, and teach me how to fix them. Or-”
“Absolutely not.” Dad was shaking his head, his face looking stormy. It was very rare that I actually saw him upset, but when he got frustrated with me ... “Jessi, this project needs to be perfect. We need to hit all the deadlines, and we need to turn around our best work yet. You're just going to have to trust me on this one.”
“You never let me help out with anything fun,” I complained, not caring how young and bratty I sounded. No matter how many times I insisted on helping him out with designs, he never changed his mind on this point, and he always relegated the most menial tasks to me. I wasn't sure how to make him see that I had grown up, and that I kind of knew what I was doing by now. Except ...
“The University of Knightsbridge thinks I have some talent anyway,” I told him, pulling the letter out of my pocket. This wasn't how I had pictured telling him about my acceptance into college, and I was definitely leaving him in the lurch now that I knew exactly how huge the new project was (especially if J.T. wanted everything ready to ride by the start of July, which was practically right around the corner!). But at the same time, maybe this would make him see that I could be trusted around the shop every once in a while.
“What is this?” Dad asked, opening the letter.
I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “I've finally decided to go back to school, like you keep telling me to do,” I told him. “I know that it's expensive, but I figure that I can live at home and keep working around the shop on the weekends. And-”
“What are you going to study?” Dad interrupted.
I took a deep breath—here was the moment of truth. “Automotive engineering,” I informed him. “Knightsbridge has a great program for it, and I'm really excited to learn more about all of this stuff. Anyway, they had me submit some of my designs as part of my application, and they really seemed to like them. I talked to this guy who will be my advisor there, and he's really interested in helping me get started in the business. I mean, not that I really need to get started in the business since I already kind of have my foot in the door, thanks to you. But this would be more of a formal education, more-”
“I'm not paying for you to study automotive engineering,” he said, scowling at me. “Jessi, we've been over this a thousand times. I want you to do something more with yourself—something better than what your old man did. You're so smart, and I'd hate to see all of that wasted with you tinkering on bikes for the rest of your life. You could really be out there making a difference in the world.”
“But, Dad, this is what I want to do,” I argued. “I don't think I could do anything better than this. This is what I'm passionate about and what I've always dreamed of doing. You know that.”
“You can't just do this because it seems like the easy way out,” Dad told me, and I felt my anger bubble up even more at that.
“You think that's what I'm doing?” I snapped. “Come with me.” I stormed out into the main part of the shop, to the place where I always left my bag when I was working with him. Angrily, I pulled out my sketchbook and whirled around to hand it to him. “Look at those designs,” I told him. “You think I'm taking the easy way out? I'm good at this, Dad. You've raised me to be good at this. I've had an eye for bikes ever since I was a teenager because I've been helping you out around here for years now, remember? And remember all those bike shows that we've gone to? I can-”
Dad held up a hand, and I trailed off. Despite our disagreements, I still loved and respected him. He was looking with interest at some of the designs, and I could practically see the gears turning in his head. This is it, I thought. This is the moment where he agrees to let me work on designs alongside him.
But instead he shook his head again. “Jessi, some of these designs are ...interesting,” he reluctantly admitted. “But there's just no way that you're going to be able to go to school this summer. Maybe in the fall, when things have settled down a little. But definitely not this summer. Besides J.T.'s new bike, there's-”
“I know we're slammed at the moment,” I sighed. “I'm the one who keeps track of the scheduling and the books, remember?” I smiled a little at him. “But there must be some way for us to figure things out, right? Anyway, it's not really ...” I took another deep breath, because here was the second moment of truth. “It's not really up for debate,” I told him. “I've already paid for the summer session.”
He blinked at me, looking shocked and then resigned. “Of course you have,” he muttered. “I should have known you'd do something like this.”
“I didn't realize I was going to be leaving you in such a lurch,” I told him honestly. “I mean, I thought that if I worked here on the weekends, things would be a bit difficult and there would be long hours, but I didn't expect you to pick up such a huge new project—I'm happy for you, of course, but I-”
“But you shouldn't have to delay going back to school just because I have work that needs to be done,” Dad said, already looking tired. He rubbed at his temples.
“What if you-” I began, but he was shaking his head before I could even finish that thought.
“I'm not hiring someone else,” he said grimly. “This is a family business and always has been. I'll just have to work something out with J.T. We can build his bike for a meet-up later in the year.”
I winced a little because I knew what that meant to him. That could cost us a lot of business, business that we could really use. We both knew that the Fourth of July meet-up was one of the hottest events of the summer, with literally thousands of bikers pouring in from all over the country for a long-distance ride down the coast. Still, I didn't see any way for him to both finish out our current contracts and finish out this new contract on time. And I knew that I wasn't going to be able to convince him to hire someone else.
Best to fight a different battle for now, until I thought up a better idea. “And my designs?” I pressed. “Like I said, I'm not saying you have to use my designs in full, but I really think that given the opportunity to do a little of the design on my own-”
“Jessi,” Dad groaned. “Look, you know I support you going back to school. I'm not sure I support the field that you're going into, but I guess we'll see how that turns out for you. But if I hear one more word about your designs today ...” He trailed off, grimacing a little, and seemed to realize that he sounded like a jerk. ”I need to do this project myself,” he said. “And that's the final word on that matter. I will consider letting you work some of your designs on future projects—smaller projects. But not on J.T.'s bike.”
“Fine,” I finally agreed sullenly. At least it was something. Of course, we'd see if he ever actually let me design anything for the shop, but at least I had a better shot at that now than I had had half an hour ago.
“And you'll be working evenings, but also some weekends, as your schedule permits,” Dad continued. “It's going to be all hands on deck for the next few months, and even then ... well, I'll have to talk to J.T.”
It wasn't ideal, but at least he hadn't freaked out about the whole college thing. We'd figure it out. I went back to work with a smile on my face.