Page 108 of When We Were Us
This morning, when we’d moved three calves to the pens, Wren took the shovel from Jack. He’d laughed when she started shoveling shit because she wanted the ‘full experience’. We’d been happy to let her while we stood watching her as she made a big show of it. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted.And as much as I love spending my days with her, I’m tired of waiting to have all of her. I want her every day, all day, and all night.
She’s distracted, locking the door, which makes me smile like an idiot. When she turns around, her steps falter, and she stops halfway across the porch. Confusion and nostalgia mix on her face when her eyes take in her granddad’s mustard yellow 1970 Chevy K10 pickup.
Her mouth drops open as she descends the stairs and stops next to where I stand, leaning against the front fender.
“How did you—?” She grabs my hand, looking from me to the truck and back. “It looks brand new. When did you…? How?” she stammers and it’s exactly the reaction I had been hoping for. She runs her other hand along the hood, tears springing to her eyes.
I squeeze her hand and follow her as she moves to the door and peers inside the window.
“I tried to buy it,” I say. “After Vern stopped driving.”
“Tried?”
“He wouldn’t take my money,” I say with a wry grin, and she does too.
“Sounds like him.”
Sheglances back at me as she opens the door, then she stops. “Wait. He stopped driving right after my grandma passed.”
“Yeah, about six months later.”
She stops, like she’s mentally calculating the time. “You’ve had this for twelve years?”
“Around there, yeah,” I say, pulling on the back of my neck.
At the time, Pop said Vern was going to part it out, or sell it for whatever he could. I don’t think Vern was surprised in the least when I asked if I could buy it. He knew how I felt about his granddaughter, and knew we’d spent all summer in it before she left.
A few days later, my mom asked me to take some food over to him, and he told me it was mine if I wanted it. The following day, I went over with cash, but he wouldn’t take it. I spent the next five years slowly restoring it.
She launches herself at me and I stumble back a step, wrapping my arm around her waist. She presses her lips to that spot on my neck and my knees almost buckle, while that familiar ache pangs in my chest.
“I can’t believe it. It’s beautiful,” she says and turns back to the truck. “It's almost brand new. This must have cost you a fortune to restore.”
“Nah. Pop, Hutch, and I did most of the work ourselves. There wasn’t much to do with the body—just paint, and a couple pieces of new trim.” It’s not the whole truth. It had actually been a ton of work, but I don’t tell her that. I don’t know how she’ll feel, knowing just how much her granddad had let things go. Knowing her, she’d feel guilty, and I don’t want that.
“It's incredible, Hank. You guys did an amazing job.”
Her compliments wash over me. Admittedly, over the years, I’d wondered if I was a damned fool for keeping it. Hudson gave me all kinds of shit when he found out. Told me I needed to sell it and move on. But this truck is a classic, and some of my best memories were made in it. It reminded me of her—of us—and it didn’t matterwhat it cost or how long it took.
I hadn’t had the heart to let Vern sell it for parts. For me, it wasn't about moving on. It would’ve been like selling off the best parts of my past. And restoring it was something I’d found great peace in.
“Why don’t you drive it more?”
“I do, sometimes. There aren’t many places I go that don’t require a ranch truck. I don’t want to mess it up with all that dirty shit I haul around.” I shrug and watch her.
She stands in the open door and runs a hand over the custom reupholstered leather seats. “Even with all the new stuff, it still smells the same.” She inhales a deep breath. “God, I loved this truck back then.”
“It’s, uh…” I clear my throat, emotion choking me as she steps back to look over at me. “It's yours if you want it.”
She turns watery eyes toward me. “Really?”
I nod, but she shakes her head. “I couldn’t take it. Not after all the work you put into it.” She glances my way again. “But I love that you’d do that for me. And maybe I could drive it sometime? Just for old times’ sake?”
“Anytime.”
She steps around the door to face me and laces her fingers through mine, smiling up at me. “You’re really something, you know that, Hank Hayes?”
I smile and feel a flush heat my neck. “Yeah?”
