Free Right Brother by Patricia McLinn Page A

basically unattended would remain standing, much less operating and—judging from the clunk-clunk-clunk resonance of his deposit—with its change intact.
    His father had added the car wash to Stenner Autos to ensure every car that left the dealership was clean. It also drew business off the street.
    Apparently it had kept operating even when Stenner Autos didn’t. Either that, or this soft drink was going to be a year or two old.
    He took a tentative swig. Nope, not a day over six months.
    Peripheral vision had saved his neck more than once on the football field, now, with his head back to drink, it caught someone approaching.
    Ashley.
    She appeared headed for the machine, too, probably for the same purpose. She hadn’t spotted him.
    After lining up the interviews for this evening faster than he could have believed, Jennifer had suggested they meet back here at five-thirty to prepare. “That will give us time to get dinner beforehand,” she’d added.
    He’d opened his mouth to say he didn’t eat dinner that early, especially since his stomach was still on West Coast time, two hours later.
    He hadn’t said the words.
    She had Ashley’s schedule to work around. Was school still going? Those sorts of family considerations weren’t part of his experience. So, he would follow her lead for now.
    He went to the motel, packed so he could get an early start tomorrow and called for a plane reservation. He decided to call his parents later. After he knew more about how this was going to work.
    He stopped at the café to buy a sandwich for later and returned to Stenner Autos with the sun blaring full in the main showroom window. Inside, he’d found Jennifer moving tables and chairs around, while Ashley slouched against a wall with a headset’s earplugs firmly in place, eyes shut and one heel tapping time against the wall.
    â€œStop that.”
    He’d said it without any heat, but loud enough to reach through the electronic noise the girl was listening to. Her eyes popped open. But it was her mother who jolted as if she’d had a live wire applied to her skin.
    Trent kept his main focus on the girl. “Your mother just washed the walls. You’re putting marks on it.”
    She looked at him blankly.
    â€œHere.” He grabbed a towel Jennifer had been using to dust surfaces that looked clean to him, and tossed it at the girl. “Clean those heel marks.”
    Ashley’s eyes narrowed. He could practically see the smart-ass words bubbling up. Then she flicked a look at Jennifer and back to him.
    Uh-huh. She was wondering if he’d snitch to her mother that she’d been out when he’d arrived at the apartment last night.
    Let her wonder.
    Another lesson learned from football. Whenever possible, you didn’t commit irrevocably to a play until you knew which way the ball was going.
    â€œNow,” he continued, hefting the table Jennifer had been rearranging by shoving one side, then the other in a laborious zigzag, “where do you want this?”
    Jennifer gaped at him for another beat before she went into action, directing him where to put that table, plus two others and about a dozen chairs. All the while Ashley, cleaning the scuffs on the wall with ill grace, had watched him as if he was the snake about to swallow her mongoose.
    When Jennifer said there was nothing more for him to do, he’d come out for the soft drink. And maybe a little to get away from his niece.
    So, of course, here she was, one hand digging in a pocket for change.
    â€œOh.” She stopped, startled. Then immediately shifted to sullen. “It’s you.”
    â€œYup. It is.” He took a swallow. “Your mom need any more help?”
    â€œI wiped all those dumb chairs. What more do you want?”
    The kid sure did lead with anger.
    â€œTo know if your mom needs my help.”
    â€œShe said everything’s done but putting forms on a bunch of