Page 36 of Mustang Summer

“I was mistaken.I thought he was, but when I recalculated, he’s actually younger.”She towed Brock behind her to the dreaded chair.“I worked on cars with Bi—my dad, but Brock and his dad are Mustang enthusiasts.How’d your dad describe them?”

Brock let her take the chair.Gage, the arrogant prick, would’ve sat and patted his knee for her.Brock’s manners could so easily get him laid.

They probably had.But had any woman stuck around afterward, or had they all gotten irritated at his car obsession?

“He said it was the perfect blend of art and automotive.Sleek like a woman and as powerful as when they’re angry.”

Blackwell barked out a laugh and muttered, “Ain’t that the truth.”

“What cars have you and your dad worked on again, Brock?”He’d never told her, and it should get him talking.

“We’ve restored a ’72 Mach 1 for one of the neighbors.That one took years because it’d been left in a pasture for twenty-five years after a crash.The ’70 Boss my dad bought at auction.He still has it, but only drives it when the weather’s nice.He’ll take it to parades and old car shows.Then we restored an ’83 convertible and ’66 Fastback and sold those because we don’t have room to keep them and work on other vehicles.Then there’s the insurance and tabs to keep paying for.It’s the work I really like.Taking a car that’s got one tire in the junkyard and working on it until you can roll it out even better than when it came off the line.”

Her nerves were settling until the last sentence.Didn’t Brock know how Blackwell would interpret his words?

Mr.Blackwell scratched his head.“Would you roll the Shelby out for the best price, or would you have room to keep it?”

Brock shrugged.“I hadn’t really thought of it.I’d have my dad to help me with it, but if you don’t want me to sell it, I won’t sell it.I don’t need the money.”

So simple.So honest.In the short time she’d known him, she knew he wouldn’t sell at Mr.Blackwell’s request.Brock could fall on hard times and that car could be his salvation and it probably wouldn’t occur to him to sell the damn thing.

Mr.Blackwell stared at Brock as if sensing the depth of his honesty, too.

Please trust him.She wanted it for Brock, and she wanted to have a legitimate reason to not feel guilty when her dad couldn’t make ends meet.

Who was she kidding?She’d feel awful.But Bill borrowed a hundred thousand now.How much would he borrow next time?And what would the interest really be?

“Want to take a peek at her?”Blackwell sounded wary, but hopeful.

They walked down to the long barn and she stood back as Brock got the same introduction as she had.Then Blackwell stepped back to let Brock roam around and look inside and under the hood.

“I’m still not sure about him.”The older man watched Brock with the wariness of an old farmer scrutinizing the approach of a nasty storm.

“I don’t think he knows how to lie.”

“Yeah, he’s a little different, but I’ve heard my share of stories trying to sell this vehicle and his is not unique.”

He’s a little different.Bill said that about her little neighbor, too.“Then why’d you pick me?”

“Because you listened to me.”He sighed.“I thought you really got it.”

“I did.That’s why I couldn’t let my dad ruin another good thing.”Bill had ruined his relationship with her mom.Josie felt like he’d pushed her away and now his real pride and joy was falling into the gutter.

Brock walked back to them.“I’ve worked on bigger projects.It won’t take much to restore.I’ll keep the same color, all the same specs.She’ll look exactly like she did fifty years ago.”

Mr.Blackwell pulled his wallet out and his hands opened it with a slight shake.He withdrew an old photo that had faded and was crinkled around the edges.

“Here’s the day I brought her home.”

Brock peeked at the photo, but from the clinical way he looked at it, he was only noting details for when he worked on it.

Josie smiled at the laughing young woman in the picture who leaned against the car.The late Mrs.Blackwell had been a beautiful lady and if she’d gone through life with as much verve as she had in the photo, Josie saw clearly why the old man was militant about the car’s next owner.

“Thank you for showing us, Mr.Blackwell.”And she meant it.Tears burned the back of her eyes.Her mom had had a lot of love to give, and Bill had thrown it away.How would life had been if Jesse’s dad hadn’t died?

“Let me think on it for a few days.I’ll let you two know either way.”

They both thanked the elderly man and he waved as they drove off.

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