Chapter FourThe sun warmed Irwin’s back as he bent over the unwieldy boat motor laying on the plywood he’d propped on a pair of sawhorses. He could have taken the engine to a mechanic, but he enjoyed doing the work himself. He tightened his grip on the crescent wrench and tried to loosen the stubborn bolt. The tool shot from his sweat-slicked palm and landed on the ground with a clatter. Pressing his lips together, he wiped his hands on his pants.
Father approached. “We can pay to have that done, son.”
“Yes, but I enjoy the work. If things were different, I might have chosen to be an automobile mechanic.” He retrieved the errant implement and tucked it into his pocket. “I’ve seen you perform tasks you don’t need to.”
Father nodded. “True. Sometimes I miss the simplicity of our lives bef
