AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Well I am your number one salesman,” I said immodestly.
“You’re my only salesman. So you’re the worst one too.”
The old man was grinning now, his cracked lips showing off his one yellow tooth.
“Ouch unc. That hurts.”
“Yeah, well your ego can take it. And after you sell her a car, I’ve got another job for you.”
“And what’s that?”
He dropped something heavy and circular into my hand: the choke plate and throttle lever assembly from the Honda. I had to laugh.
“Rebuild that friggin’ carburetor!”
I hefted the pieces in my palm for a moment, then smirked inwardly.
“This isn’t from the Honda, old man. It’s from the Oldsmobile.”
My grand-uncle squinted and scratched his head. He was short and squat, but still built like a brick shit-house. I always told him he reminded me of The Thing from the old Fantastic Four comic books.
“It is?” he asked worriedly.
“No,” I laughed. “But you’re so blind it could be the crown jewels of England and you wouldn’t know it.”
I laughed even louder as he shoved me through the hallway, then spun off in the direction of the coffee machine. He was right, of course. I’d rebuild the Honda’s carburetor before heading out today, but not before giving him a little more shit about it.
I pulled the less dirty of two rags from my back pocket and rubbed my hands again, trying to get them as clean as possible. The old man had been running this garage-turned-c
ar-lot for as long as anyone knew, since he came back to town after the Vietnam war.
Turning, I glanced up at the shadowbox on the wall. There was an old green combat jacket in there, mounted below a string of colorful medals. I’d looked them up once, and found out my grand-uncle had been a sharpshooter. A Marine sniper, with a string of accolades that left me looking at the old man in a whole new light. There was a faded black-and-white photo pinned in there too, in which he was young and tough and ruggedly handsome. His tour of duty was the one thing he never talked about… and therefore the one thing I never teased him on.
“Uhhh, hi?”
I looked up just in time to avoid bumping into the woman who’d wandered into the garage. She happened to be a beautiful strawberry-haired bombshell, in a blue and white sundress.
“Sorry ma’am, but you can’t be in here.”
Her lips pursed together a little before curling up at the corners.
“Yeah, well I’ve been waiting out there for more than ten minutes,” she pointed out.
“Sorry for that too,” I apologized. “I was just in the middle of—” I stopped suddenly, mid sentence. “Mrs. Nelson?”
“It’s McShane now,” she sighed. “And actually, it’s just Serena.” Eyeing me for a moment, she squinted back. “Wait, how do you know me?”
“Been to your place a few times,” I nodded. “I was on the team with David.”
Her eyes lit up with recognition. They were pretty eyes, too. “Ah, yes. You and Jacob.”
“Yeah, him too.”
Images floated to mind, fuzzy memories of the last time I’d seen her. We’d been at David’s for some reason, his birthday maybe. But Mrs. Nelson — or Serena, apparently — was just as beautiful then as she was now. Truth be told, maybe she’d even gotten better.
“Speaking of Jacob, he’s the one who sent me,” she said. “He told me to ask for you. I’m looking for something cheap and reliable.”
“Really?” I asked, a little surprised. “Why not just make your husband give you the GTO?”
