Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Kendall
With my truck idling in the driveway I walk up to the front door of Aaron’s parents’ home and feel my hands shake.
I don’t know if Maggie was being serious or only attempting to make me feel better when she asked for a ride in my truck several weeks ago.
I know I could be able to make a fool of myself.
Or her and I could have a great day, with lots of laughs.
I’ll admit being around her does fill a void.
One my own mother left when she decided money meant more to her than love.
Family was never enough for her and Maggie is the exact opposite.
Yes the O’Shay’s have money. But I honestly think that if the choice was left where she had to decide between money and her family, her family would win every single time.
When I knock on the thick double wide door, I step back and fist my hands nervously before me.
When she opens it up and her face lights up, it’s like all the nervous energy I felt on my way over here disappeared.
“You ready to go for that ride I promised you?” I point over my shoulder and her eyes light up with excitement.
“Now?”
“If now works for you then, yeah, right now,” I tell her with a laugh and can’t help feel joy at how excited this grown woman is just to go for a ride in a big ole tow truck with a small bag and a thin sweater tossed over her arm. “Let’s go!” she says almost giddy and jogs down the front steps.
I reach out and pull the front door shut before joining her in the driveway.
“Are we just going for a ride, or do we have someone to rescue?” She rubs her hands together in anticipation.
“For now, a ride, but if a call comes in, I’ll take you along.”
“I hope a call comes in,” she says then her brows furrow. “I mean shoot, I don’t wish distress on anyone, but…”
“I know what you mean,” I say, pulling open the door and motioning for her to climb up inside.
I watch as she flops down in the seat and then starts looking over the space.
The wrecker isn’t anything fancy, it’s spacious enough in the cab, the seat comfortable, but it’s a wrecker.
Though I tried to clean it up a bit, it’s used for hauling cars, you can’t change much.
“This is cozy,” she says with a smile and I grin. She is being nice.
“It’s okay, you can say it,” I tell her. “It’s filthy.”
“No, honey my father drove a rig his entire life and the man wasn’t a tidy man. I remember my mother and I cleaning out his truck every time he came home. It was awful, this, well this is just used, but kept up.”
“My dad is a bit of a neat freak,” I explain, buckling my seat belt and she does the same. “When we have downtime he puts one of the guys on detailing it. They know to clean up after themselves or else.”
She nods like she is in complete agreement.
“You ready?” I ask her and she nods enthusiastically.
“I am ready.”
For the first ten minutes she just bounces along in the seat, scanning over the cars as we pass. She is looking down every side road as if she is looking for someone we might be able to help.
When the call comes in over the radio she smiles big and points to the dash.
“Yeah,” I say in response and like a kid on Christmas Margaret O’Shay is a whole new form of happy.
Three hours later we are pulling into the driveway to find both Aaron and his father standing there waiting. Randy grins, his hands on his hips as I slow to a stop and his wife opens the door. He steps up, reaches out, and helps her down.
Aaron stares at her with his mouth gaped open slightly like this is an entirely new side of his mother he has never before seen.
“Oh Aaron,” she hollers out to him. “Kendall is a dream. She is strong and confident, she swooped in, rescued some man stranded on the road, and didn’t even break a sweat.
” She laughs. “I’m sure there is nothing more emasculating than a tiny woman showing up on the side of the road to rescue a big burning man’s man. ” She laughs and so does Randy.
She practically skips off toward the house with her husband in tow, offering me a wave and a promise to do it again soon.
“I think I may have found my new copilot,” I tell him with a laugh.
“I think my mother just might be in love with you,” he states, placing his arm over my shoulders. Pulling my into his body he leans over and presses a kiss to my forehead.
“It’s the thrill of the big truck,” I tell him with a laugh and glance up to find him watching me.
“No babe, it’s you.” Kissing my lips, he rests his forehead to mine. “Believe me, it’s all you.”