worn?
How did the fuel mixture work?
Was restoring the truck worth the time?
Dad answered every question patiently.
He didn’t punish her.
He didn’t embarrass her.
He simply treated her the way he treated almost everyone.
By the time we went inside for lunch, something felt different.
Not fixed.
Different.
Twelve years of quiet disrespect do not disappear after two hours in a garage.
Karen and I had many more conversations over the following months.
Some were uncomfortable.
Some forced both of us to admit things we would rather
