FIVE
“I’d feel like a martyr, except I don’t really have anything to be martyred over,” I told Eloise as we bumped our way down the drive to the family camp. “You are at least running, although your engine dies if I try to go over thirty, or you have to idle for more than forty-five seconds, or you make two left turns in a row, and I’m earning money to get you fixed up right, and Mrs. Faa told the nasty William to get cracking on setting up my little home away from home, so really, all things considered, I’m a pretty lucky girl.”
Eloise wheezed and backfired a few times as I rolled her to a stop across from the crescent of RVs. I added getting new brakes to my list of things that needed to be done to restore my beloved car to her former glory, then refused to think about how much more th
