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Authors: Along Came Jones
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away with a
broken nose or lose a finger, but this Manetti dame was a dead woman walking.
Six
Six
weeks at the earliest, 'lessen I can find something else. I been callin' around
all mornin'."
Deanna
stared at Shep's "shade tree" mechanic in the late morning sun, her
expression lying somewhere between a squint and a grimace. The only shade in
Charlie Long's automotive junkyard was the overhang of his cabin. At the
moment, they were in the fenced-in lot where he'd towed her crinkled car. Six weeks?
Beside
her, Shep made some sort of grunt, no more pleased with the news than she was.
"Might as well ask about having that faulty airbag replaced, too. Much as
this baby cost, it should have worked and repacked itself."
"Dad-gummed
foreign cars..." Charlie spat to the side, shaking his head. "They're
snazzy enough, but they're biddies to keep runnin'." He chuckled.
"Like some women, I reckon."
Deanna's
neck grew hot as he shot a speculative glance at her. Ordinarily she'd have
shot back that it was none of his business how she chose to spend her
hard-earned money, but she needed to remain on the old coot's good side.
"I didn't buy it new. It was a drug repo auction. I was just in the right
place at the right time."
"Till
now," Charlie observed in a wry voice. "It just don't pay to buy
outside the good old U.S. of A.; I don't care how new a model ya get or how
good a buy it is. Why, I wouldn't take one if it was given to me," the
mechanic snorted. "Foreign parts is foreign parts and sooner or later a
body's goin' to pay to get 'em... when and if they find 'em, that is."
Deanna
nodded. How could she not agree? If she'd had an old American-made car, Charlie
would undoubtedly have had a used part in the vast lot of rusting has-beens, or
he could have found a new one right away But her blue baby was so pretty, so
snazzy And she'd taken a leave of her senses with an atypical crush—in love
with love, with life, and with a stylish Stetson. It was a far cry from the
well-worn topper Shep tipped off his forehead in dismay
"Just
get it so it will run. I'll worry about the airbag expense later," she
said with a sigh.
"Check
out the airbag anyway, Charlie," Shep contradicted.
"Getting
a price won't hurt," he explained to Deanna, "and if I'm going to fix
something, I want it done right. Might have saved that knot on your
noggin'."
Charlie's
spontaneous smile diffused any further objection she could muster. It was
almost a fatherly one, a protective kind that spoke of genuine concern. She had
to steel herself to keep from latching on to the sentiment like a lifeline. Her
parents were gone and the last shoulder she'd leaned on vanished into thin air,
allowing her to fall flat on her face in a heap of trouble.
"I'll
make more calls," Charlie offered. The eyes beneath the ample bushes of
his brow narrowed as they shifted from Shep to Deanna then back to Shep.
"Thanks,
Charlie. I know you'll look out for me. Always have." Shep reseated his
hat, as if the matter was settled.
Strange.
She had looked out for herself pretty well until recently. She prided herself
on being able to stand and survive on her own. Talk about being an idiot. The
past few days clearly had shown her how wrong she'd been. If Deanna wanted to
rely on someone, she'd better look beyond her mirror like Gram always said.
Like
Shep did. She recalled how easily he'd given God credit for getting him through
another day, how trusting it had sounded. Oh, she could ask quickly enough, but
could she earnestly trust like that? It defied logic to sit back and
wait for God to take over, like letting go of a steering wheel and allowing the
car to steer itself into or out of a collision. How could she not try to stop
or avoid it? Staring at the accordion-pleated hood of her blue baby, Deanna had
proof positive that even with both hands on the wheel, she hadn't been able to
control her own destiny
Shep's
voice invaded the cloud of revelation enveloping her mind. "Just radio me
when
broken nose or lose a finger, but this Manetti dame was a dead woman walking.
Six
Six
weeks at the earliest, 'lessen I can find something else. I been callin' around
all mornin'."
Deanna
stared at Shep's "shade tree" mechanic in the late morning sun, her
expression lying somewhere between a squint and a grimace. The only shade in
Charlie Long's automotive junkyard was the overhang of his cabin. At the
moment, they were in the fenced-in lot where he'd towed her crinkled car. Six weeks?
Beside
her, Shep made some sort of grunt, no more pleased with the news than she was.
"Might as well ask about having that faulty airbag replaced, too. Much as
this baby cost, it should have worked and repacked itself."
"Dad-gummed
foreign cars..." Charlie spat to the side, shaking his head. "They're
snazzy enough, but they're biddies to keep runnin'." He chuckled.
"Like some women, I reckon."
Deanna's
neck grew hot as he shot a speculative glance at her. Ordinarily she'd have
shot back that it was none of his business how she chose to spend her
hard-earned money, but she needed to remain on the old coot's good side.
"I didn't buy it new. It was a drug repo auction. I was just in the right
place at the right time."
"Till
now," Charlie observed in a wry voice. "It just don't pay to buy
outside the good old U.S. of A.; I don't care how new a model ya get or how
good a buy it is. Why, I wouldn't take one if it was given to me," the
mechanic snorted. "Foreign parts is foreign parts and sooner or later a
body's goin' to pay to get 'em... when and if they find 'em, that is."
Deanna
nodded. How could she not agree? If she'd had an old American-made car, Charlie
would undoubtedly have had a used part in the vast lot of rusting has-beens, or
he could have found a new one right away But her blue baby was so pretty, so
snazzy And she'd taken a leave of her senses with an atypical crush—in love
with love, with life, and with a stylish Stetson. It was a far cry from the
well-worn topper Shep tipped off his forehead in dismay
"Just
get it so it will run. I'll worry about the airbag expense later," she
said with a sigh.
"Check
out the airbag anyway, Charlie," Shep contradicted.
"Getting
a price won't hurt," he explained to Deanna, "and if I'm going to fix
something, I want it done right. Might have saved that knot on your
noggin'."
Charlie's
spontaneous smile diffused any further objection she could muster. It was
almost a fatherly one, a protective kind that spoke of genuine concern. She had
to steel herself to keep from latching on to the sentiment like a lifeline. Her
parents were gone and the last shoulder she'd leaned on vanished into thin air,
allowing her to fall flat on her face in a heap of trouble.
"I'll
make more calls," Charlie offered. The eyes beneath the ample bushes of
his brow narrowed as they shifted from Shep to Deanna then back to Shep.
"Thanks,
Charlie. I know you'll look out for me. Always have." Shep reseated his
hat, as if the matter was settled.
Strange.
She had looked out for herself pretty well until recently. She prided herself
on being able to stand and survive on her own. Talk about being an idiot. The
past few days clearly had shown her how wrong she'd been. If Deanna wanted to
rely on someone, she'd better look beyond her mirror like Gram always said.
Like
Shep did. She recalled how easily he'd given God credit for getting him through
another day, how trusting it had sounded. Oh, she could ask quickly enough, but
could she earnestly trust like that? It defied logic to sit back and
wait for God to take over, like letting go of a steering wheel and allowing the
car to steer itself into or out of a collision. How could she not try to stop
or avoid it? Staring at the accordion-pleated hood of her blue baby, Deanna had
proof positive that even with both hands on the wheel, she hadn't been able to
control her own destiny
Shep's
voice invaded the cloud of revelation enveloping her mind. "Just radio me
when
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