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I’m hovering around another engine when I find the block parts I need for my girl. After pulling everything and adding to the wagon of other goodies I found, I lug the parts back to my car in a rickety old four-wheeler they let me borrow. I’m so exhausted from the heat and sun that it takes longer to load all the spare parts in the back of my truck.
Pulling onto the main road, a car flies past at a high rate of speed. Stupid drivers. “Gonna get someone killed.”
One last look as I pull out and head back to the shop. Windows down, and music is up as I bounce in my old truck down the road. The springs in the old seat creak with every bump. The worn fabric of the seats has ripped in different places, but don’t let it fool you; they are comfortable. Coasting in behind the shop, I spot that fancy sports car that flew by me. I immediately know who it is.
My truck door creaks as I slam it shut and spot Leland and Victor talking. With steps closer, I once again come into the back end of their conversation.
“They will help pay to move everything!” Victor speaks along with grand hand gestures.
“I’ve been here for over ten years. I’m not selling.” Leland firmly states.
Victor squares up to Leland. “Really? What’s keeping you here? It’s a rundown shop. This is a prime location. It’s close to the water, and it’s up and coming for new business expansion. You can probably get more money than what the value is. You’ve got to sell.”
“Selling? You’re thinking of selling?” I interrupt, scaring the shit out of both of them.
“Collins, this is a private conversation.” Victor holds his palm up toward me.
Oh. Hell. No.
“Don’t you dare talk to her like that.” Leland pins him with a stare, causing him to back down. Leland turns his whole body toward me, giving me his full attention. His eyes soften when they land on me. A small smirk touches my lips at the fatherly sincerity. “No, Collins. I am not selling.”
Victor slaps his hand on his thighs. “I don’t get it. They will give you a ton of money for this place. You can do a lot more and better with what they offer.” He reaches his arms in the air in a tantrum.
“You wouldn’t. It’s not about the money.” Leland shakes his head while trying to keep calm. “This is my family. We’ve worked hard in this place and for everything we have. I’m not a sellout.”
“You’re not selling out,” Victor says, as a matter of fact.
“I am if I entertain this offer. The people in this community depend on us.”
“It’s millions!” Victor’s voice notches up an octave.
“NO!” Leland screams. I’m slightly taken aback by his harsh tone. Never, in all my life, have I ever heard my big brother speak that way.
They are in a silent stare off about this place. After what seems like forever, Victor gives up. Seeing that Leland isn’t budging. “Collins, talk some sense into him.”
Ouch. Bad move. “Leland, I got the block parts for my girl.” A change of topic will soothe over this uncomfortable conversation.
“Finally found it, huh?” He smiles.
“Yeah! Took a while to get the junk off, but I got it. Plus, I found some parts for other cars that are sitting around. We might sell a few once fixed.” I proudly state.
“Your girl?” Victor pops in, confused.
I roll my eyes again for the second time today.
“Clearly, you are missing what is really important in life.” Leland, finally fed up with him, crosses his arms over his chest, which puffs his upper body into a challenging stance.
I gaze at Victor, and my eyes focus on his defined jaw. His smooth skin tensed and his hazel eyes were full of vigor.
“Why do you look like that?”
His question catches me off guard. It’s at that moment it registers what I look like. Sweaty and worn-out t-shirt, torn to shredded jeans, basic Adidas shoes with a hole in the side, and to top off this high-class look; I’m covered in sweat, dirt, and grease. Shit, did I put deodorant on this morning?
“I’ll grab the parts out of your truck. Why don’t you take the afternoon off and spend time with your girl? Thanks for the stuff.” Leland breaks through the frustrated and awkward conversation. He stalks between Victor and me, causing Victor to take a step back.
With a grand sigh, I shuffle my feet toward my girl. She’s parked in the back corner of the garage and I pull the cover from the back, exposing her hardened, rusted frame. A whiff of expensive aftershave and cologne hits my nostrils like a bat to the face. I refuse to turn and instead rest my hands on my hips. Admiring the progress over the last several years. I could only scrounge up a few parts here and there when I had the money.
“Hey, beautiful,” I coo.
