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“Fine. Your dad’s,” she huffed. I snickered, and she snapped, “Don’t gloat. It’s rude.”
“Sorry.” Trying to change the subject, I asked, “Since we’re not having your lasagna, what are we eating?”
“Gee, Joyelle, you don’t want to cook tonight? Oh, wait, we had grilled cheese sandwiches last time and if I remember correctly, you burned them.”
“I like mine well-done,” I stated.
“Let’s be honest. Everything you cook sucks.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t cook. I just had no patience for standing at a stove waiting for something to get to the right temperature. Turning the fire up higher didn’t always work out the way I planned it, but I wasn’t picky. I ate it anyway.
“So…pizza?” I suggested.
“Sounds good. But since I don’t have my car, looks like you’re picking it up on the way over.”
“No problem. We’re going to need to delay dinner a bit -I still have a job to do in Providence.”
“Joyelle, it’s starting to get dark. You really shouldn’t go there by yourself. Who knows what could happen,” Lizzy said.
It was a risk that came with the job. Repossessing a vehicle, whether it be day or night, didn’t go over very well for the person losing it. Even though I had a license to carry, I kept my .38 Special locked in my glovebox in the truck. The last thing I needed was someone sneaking up behind me and using my weapon against me.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”
“Joyelle, why don’t you take Snowball with you?”
I laughed. “What would she do? Lick them to death?”
“She would bark if there was trouble,” Lizzy stated.
“Snowball barks if the wind blows. Or did you forget she growled at a leaf a few days ago? If she was with me, I might as well go knock on the guy’s door and ask his permission to repo his car.”
Lizzy didn’t seem to take offense at my knocking down her pooch, but I was being serious. Snowball would do more harm than good. Maybe it was because I was a tiny woman that the guys who did come out, didn’t flip out at me. If anything, they kept their cussing under their breath. My ex, Jarrod, used to come home with repo horror stories, and sometimes even a black eye. Then again, there were plenty of times I had been tempted to haul off and slug him, too. Jarrod could be one mean bastard when he wanted. And at the end of our marriage, that was far too often.
“Joyelle, I don’t think you take this very seriously.”
“I do, but this is my business, and I don’t have much choice. Either I repo the vehicles, or I close my doors.” No way in hell was I going to give Jarrod the satisfaction of thinking I couldn’t run the business. So far, I was pulling it off – I was actually turning more profit than Jarrod ever had. I would never understand why the judge awarded him the house and me the company. But Jarrod had played the judge like he did most women. It could’ve been worse. Jarrod could have gotten the business, too.
“Is that really a bad thing? I mean you could go and work for your dad.”
“Just because I know my way around a car doesn’t mean I’m a mechanic. Besides, working for family isn’t a good idea.” My dad might like having me around the shop again, but I couldn’t stand him looking over my shoulder all the time. I was thirty-one, but in his eyes, I was still his baby girl. He even called me Joy instead of Joyelle.
“Then I guess I will be stuck worrying about your safety until some prince sweeps you off your feet and spoils you rotten,” Lizzy said, adding, “But make sure he has a brother for me.”
I laughed. “Unless the prince is behind on his car payments, I highly doubt we’ll cross paths.”
The last thing I needed was marriage, which to my mind was just someone trying to scam me into paying their bills for them. I could take care of myself, but I wasn’t up for the challenge of taking care of someone else. At least not the way things are going now. Honestly, maybe never.
I couldn’t blame Jarrod for everything. Although everyone had told me I was too young to get married, I thought I was in love, and at nineteen, I wanted what I wanted. But by twenty-three I could see my fairytale life fading, and by twenty-nine, I was divorced.
Unloading Lizzy’s car from the flatbed, I asked, “Will you want a ride home later, or are you going to walk?”
Lizzy said, “Since we’re eating pizza tonight, I think I’d better walk. And don’t forget to grab a bottle of wine, too.”
“Since when don’t you have wine at your place?” I asked, shocked.
“Me and Bobby finished it off last night.”
“Bobby? Should I know that name?” I asked.
