boy. Back here. Whatcha need?" His uncle makes his way out of the back bedroom to the living room we are standing in. He walks with a cane, and I can tell that he’s in pain but most likely too stubborn to take any medication that could help.
"Uncle Mel, this is Marin. My friend I talked to you about the other day. Marin, Uncle Mel." He smiles the smallest of smiles.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Marin. Do you happen to have a last name? I've lived around these parts of Florida my whole life. Maybe I know your family."
"Levine. But I'm not originally from here. Came here for college at CFU. My family is originally from Georgia."
"Ah, I see. Well, no matter. It's still nice to meet you." He wobbles slowly over to his recliner and plops down on it. "So, what brings you two over here to this messy house of mine?"
"Marin has so graciously volunteered to take me to get a new computer for the shop."
"New computer? Pfft. There's nothing wrong with the one you have now. Why can’t you just use it?" He waves him off, and I decide to speak up. I haven't gotten a good read yet on Uncle Mel, so hopefully I'm not overstepping my bounds.
"Actually, sir—"
"Mel, or Uncle Mel. You don't need to call me sir, sweetheart."
"Um, OK. Mel, the computer in the office is pretty old. There really isn't anything I can show Dalton that can help him run the garage—at least the business side of it—more smoothly on that computer. He needs something that some of the new programs that would be advantageous to his business."
He studies me intensely for a minute and then sighs. "Yeah, you're probably right. Dot bought that thing back when Dalton was still tightening the screws on his tricycle. Never did use the damn thing much.” He motions to the hallway. “Dalton, go grab the money bag out of my room."
Dalton heads back down the hallway to the bedroom leaving me with his uncle.
Within a few seconds, Dalton returns, money bag in hand. He holds it out to Uncle Mel and reaches in to pull out a credit card. "Here you go, boy. It's about time you take over the money too, especially since you'll have you a new fancy machine to do everything on. And we did have a deal anyway. Take over everything completely in exchange for—"
Dalton cuts him off and Uncle Mel looks irritated but doesn’t continue with what he was saying.
"OK. Whatever you say. I know what we discussed." He turns to me then. "You ready?" I'm not sure what Uncle Mel was getting ready to say, but Dalton obviously doesn't want me to know. I'm totally OK with that, though; I don't need to know his personal business to help him out.
"Yes. I'm ready."
We walk out and toward the cars. I'm assuming that we are going to take my car but he walks over to an older, somewhat falling apart Bronco.
"Hop in," he says as he opens the passenger door for me.
I can't help but ask, "Are you sure this thing is safe?"
"Ha Ha. Very funny. I can assure you she is very safe. She just isn't very pretty … yet." He pats the dash and winks before shutting the door.
I have to admit this is a pretty cool vehicle. It has personality unlike my little gas efficient car. Which happens to be the main reason I bought it. You know, care about the environment and all that jazz.
Dalton jumps in the driver’s side and starts it up. "So lead the way," he says.
Aside from my directions, our trip to the store is spent enveloped in an awkward silence. I feel his eyes glance in my direction several times, but I'm too caught up in what exactly I should be feeling right now to make any small talk.
As we pull into the parking lot of the office supply store that is closest to his garage, I pull out my phone and shoot Amelia a quick text.
Me: Shopping for a new computer for Daltons garage. Talk later.
Amelia: Like...together?
Me: Duh! Xoxoxo
Amelia: ????
I roll my eyes and stuff the phone back in my purse. I will deal with her overprotectiveness later tonight. Glancing across the truck, I see Dalton staring at me
"Uncle Mel, this is Marin. My friend I talked to you about the other day. Marin, Uncle Mel." He smiles the smallest of smiles.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Marin. Do you happen to have a last name? I've lived around these parts of Florida my whole life. Maybe I know your family."
"Levine. But I'm not originally from here. Came here for college at CFU. My family is originally from Georgia."
"Ah, I see. Well, no matter. It's still nice to meet you." He wobbles slowly over to his recliner and plops down on it. "So, what brings you two over here to this messy house of mine?"
"Marin has so graciously volunteered to take me to get a new computer for the shop."
"New computer? Pfft. There's nothing wrong with the one you have now. Why can’t you just use it?" He waves him off, and I decide to speak up. I haven't gotten a good read yet on Uncle Mel, so hopefully I'm not overstepping my bounds.
"Actually, sir—"
"Mel, or Uncle Mel. You don't need to call me sir, sweetheart."
"Um, OK. Mel, the computer in the office is pretty old. There really isn't anything I can show Dalton that can help him run the garage—at least the business side of it—more smoothly on that computer. He needs something that some of the new programs that would be advantageous to his business."
He studies me intensely for a minute and then sighs. "Yeah, you're probably right. Dot bought that thing back when Dalton was still tightening the screws on his tricycle. Never did use the damn thing much.” He motions to the hallway. “Dalton, go grab the money bag out of my room."
Dalton heads back down the hallway to the bedroom leaving me with his uncle.
Within a few seconds, Dalton returns, money bag in hand. He holds it out to Uncle Mel and reaches in to pull out a credit card. "Here you go, boy. It's about time you take over the money too, especially since you'll have you a new fancy machine to do everything on. And we did have a deal anyway. Take over everything completely in exchange for—"
Dalton cuts him off and Uncle Mel looks irritated but doesn’t continue with what he was saying.
"OK. Whatever you say. I know what we discussed." He turns to me then. "You ready?" I'm not sure what Uncle Mel was getting ready to say, but Dalton obviously doesn't want me to know. I'm totally OK with that, though; I don't need to know his personal business to help him out.
"Yes. I'm ready."
We walk out and toward the cars. I'm assuming that we are going to take my car but he walks over to an older, somewhat falling apart Bronco.
"Hop in," he says as he opens the passenger door for me.
I can't help but ask, "Are you sure this thing is safe?"
"Ha Ha. Very funny. I can assure you she is very safe. She just isn't very pretty … yet." He pats the dash and winks before shutting the door.
I have to admit this is a pretty cool vehicle. It has personality unlike my little gas efficient car. Which happens to be the main reason I bought it. You know, care about the environment and all that jazz.
Dalton jumps in the driver’s side and starts it up. "So lead the way," he says.
Aside from my directions, our trip to the store is spent enveloped in an awkward silence. I feel his eyes glance in my direction several times, but I'm too caught up in what exactly I should be feeling right now to make any small talk.
As we pull into the parking lot of the office supply store that is closest to his garage, I pull out my phone and shoot Amelia a quick text.
Me: Shopping for a new computer for Daltons garage. Talk later.
Amelia: Like...together?
Me: Duh! Xoxoxo
Amelia: ????
I roll my eyes and stuff the phone back in my purse. I will deal with her overprotectiveness later tonight. Glancing across the truck, I see Dalton staring at me
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