Country Living

Brandon

“Jessie, I have to go and pick up this chick who hit a deer.” I tell my latest conquest of this small town.

             She wraps her arms around my neck, bats her eyes, and whines “But why? I’m sure that I’m more interesting than a little girl who needs a ride.” She pulls herself up and whispers in my ear “If you stay, I’ll give you the ride of your life.”

             I’m sure she would but if my shop is going to survive, I do need the customers and money. Something even this chick should understand but by the grin on her face I don’t think she will. I give her one quick peck on the check and walk her out after locking up. With millions of dollars in tools and equipment I don’t need anything stolen, a lesson I learned the hard way.

             I get in the tow truck and head out to pick this chick up. Who waits three hours before calling back? These hillbillies have nothing else better to do than to wait. I doubt I will ever understand them.

             When Grandpa said that this would be a good new start, I immediately hopped on the first train out. I never thought that I would have to deal with people who actually enjoy talking about dirt and the weather. The people in this town are slow in their thinking.

My mind wanders back to Rose. She is definitely not slow and has a smart mouth on her. When she called me out about my “project” I was so dumbfounded that I couldn’t come up with a good response. It has been months since someone called me out especially when it didn’t come to my business. It was very refreshing. But that also means Rose is probably an older woman who probably doesn’t give two shits any more.

I pull upon the wreckage. The bumper is completely off, the passenger quarter panel is completely missing with the headlight and the hood is all bent out of shape. There is probably more damage under the hood. I’m sure that the car is totaled.

 The driver door opened and the old woman was definitely not old. I’d put her in her late twenties if that. She is about average height with long brown hair and emerald green eyes. Her jeans hug her hips and thighs like they were molded on her as she leans in the car and grabs out her purse and a bookbag, that looks like it's bursting at the seams.

             She looks at me her smile falters for a quick second, but then she recovers. I could’ve sworn I saw heat flash in her eyes.  “Wow I would’ve thought your project would convince you to stay for another hour at least or is that too long for you?”

Again, I’m stumped. Never in my life has a person, let alone a woman, be so passive aggressive to me about s*x. It takes me a second but I say “I mean if you have the time, I’d be more than happy to show you how long it would take for me to handle a project”

             “Unlike you I do have places to be and I’m sure Jeff would be more than happy to hear what the new shop owner is up to.”

             Does she know my Grandpa? What am I saying it’s a small town everybody knows everybody. “No, we don’t need to involve Jeff. Let’s get your car back to the shop and you home.” I hook up her car and load it onto the truck. We head off to town. It’s too quiet for me. “What are you studying?”, I ask, pointing to her bag.

             “Nothing. I teach the history classes at the high school. If the insurance decides to total the car let me know. I have a parts car at home that I can use to fix most of the issues. Jeff would let me use a lift if he had one available. If that doesn’t work for you just let me know”, she says in a more peaceful tone than what she had been using.

             Thinking about it I do remember Jeff talking about a teacher who was very knowledgeable about cars and who would ask him questions and to use his shop from time to time. I wished he would’ve written down names of people who use the shop instead of letting me find things out for myself.

             “Let’s see what your insurance says and we’ll go from there.” I hear a small huff before she says ok.