Page 26 of Work Me

Reese pat’s her lip with her napkin. “Anyway, she could only fill her plate once before she couldn’t eat anymore. Pouted for an hour before realizing her body wasn’t digesting it fast enough for her to eat more.”

“I can see her doing that,” he says, and they both laugh imagining me sitting like a pouting child.

“I don’t find it that funny,” I say, annoyed.

They both look at each other and snicker.

“Were you able to get the car fixed?” Dean asks her.

I turn to her wondering the same thing. With Dean here, I’d completely forgotten about the gas gage.

“Not yet. They said it’s going to require some special part. Something tells me they’re trying to swindle us for money because we’re women. So, I’m going to get a second opinion tomorrow.”

“How’d you get so smart?” I ask her, beaming with pride.

“If you can wait, I can take a look at it Sunday. I was going to ask your mom to go on a Jeep trail with me down to the Picayune Strand. Maybe I can take a look at it then.”

“You know about cars?” she asks.

“Some. My dad and I have worked on a couple of classics. A friend of mine owns an auto shop in Bonita Springs, if I need anything, he’ll give me the parts at cost.”

Pleased with it, Reese nods.

The little bell over the door chimes and we all turn to it. A man, only slightly older than myself walks in with his son. They take one look at me, say something to each other, then turn around and leave.

Dean misses nothing. “What’d you do to them that they’re running off with their tails between their legs?” he asks, taking a bite of his burger.

“What makes you think I did anything?” I ask innocently.

Reese answers. “The kid bullied me once, so my mom kicked his ass.”

Pieces of lettuce fly out as he tries to control the cough brought on by the surprise. “You kicked a kid’s ass.”

“No. Kid,” I say to Reese, “If you’re gonna tell it, tell it right,” I say, then look back to Dean. “I ALMOST kicked his dad’s ass. Reese was about ten when she decided she was going to be a businesswoman like my sister. She started going everywhere with her little brown briefcase. It was so cute!” I squeal, pinching her cheek.

“Mom!” Reese waves my hand away.

“Anyway, we ran into them at some church thing. The kid found Reese amusing. Literally riled up about five other kids to chant something at her.”

“Reeso the weirdo,” she reminds me. The fact that she can still remember the words angers me.

I continue with the story, “I went up to the dad. His name is Richard something or other. So, I say, ‘Hey Dick, you gonna teach your kid to respect people? Or you just gonna wait for some punk to set him straight for you.’ And by punk I meant me, of course.”

“Of course.” Dean is downright laughing by this point. “I can see it. Then what happened?”

“Dick stood up real threatening, pointed at Reese and said ‘Why don’t you teach your kid to keep her head down and maybe she’ll make it through life.’”

Reese takes over the telling, her eyes wide as she remembers the day. “You should have seen my mom. She stood her full height, her eyes shot laser beams, at least that’s what I saw. She asked him, ‘Is that a threat? Because it sounds like a threat. And if it is, were going to take care of it right here, right now.’”

“And did you?” Dean asks, completely immersed in the story.

“I didn’t have to. He backed down immediately. I never knew why, but at least his son left Reese alone,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

“It was the eyes. He could tell you were about to go crazy on him. I don’t think men know what to do with a crazy woman,” Reese points out.

“Man, I would have loved to have seen that,” Dean says.

“I’m lucky to have a momma cat to protect me,” Reese says, tugging at my heart strings.

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