It’s dad. His mouth has dropped and returned to the most pissed off look he could express.
“What the hell is going on in here?!” Dad’s growl would scare any lion out of a field.
My bare feet are dangling. I expect Tim to put me down, but he doesn’t.
“Will, Drew spilled oil on her accidentally, so I’m carrying her to her truck so she doesn’t hurt her feet.”
Dad pauses. The whole shop is silent. He glances at the other mechanics, and then I hear them start moving away from the scene. He looks back to me, then to Tim.
I don’t sense Tim is nervous. I expected him to be, but he’s not.
“Okay. Take her out then come and talk to me in my office.” Dad grumbles.
Dad walks into his office without saying another word.
“Sorry.” I say to Tim.
I feel bad… I hope this doesn’t cause problems for him. I know he was just trying to help.
“It’s not a problem. Your dad will cool off. He’s just trying to protect his little girl.”
He’s such a sweet heart!
He stands me up next to my truck door and I feel like I’m wearing a potato sack.
“No problem. Still coming out to paint next week?” He asks.
“Yeah… I will.”
“Okay… see you later.” Tim smiles, but then an irritated look spreads across his face when he turns to go back into the shop. I get the feeling he’s partly mad for dad being mad. Strange relationship those two have. They sometimes feel like father and son more than boss and employee.
Maybe dad will find some humor in it? I can only hope.
Walking into the house with Tim’s clothes on, I could only imagine the expression my mom will have on her face. I laugh inside. The last few weeks have been nothing like I’ve ever known, emotions I’ve never felt before. I just feel funny inside about all the changes.
My mom is sitting by the phone, staring at me as I walk in, as if she was waiting for me. She has her lips pressed tightly together; obviously trying to not laugh, but within seconds…….. Laughter. I smile and roll my eyes. Better than I expected. I take a quick turn towards the bathroom to see if the bathroom is usable.
“DO NOT TURN WATER ON! “
The sign is like sandpaper on my skin. Like nails on a chalkboard. Like chewing on cotton balls.
“MOOOOOOMMMM!” I wail like a demanding brat should. So sick of using that camper!
Now what am I supposed to do? Get ready in that stupid camper?
“Mom! When is the bathroom going to be done?” I complain as I stomp back into the living room like a child.
“Well…,” she laughs a little more as she forms her words, “probably tomorrow, depends on when dad can look at the pipes again.” Her face straightens into a controlled smile, holding back her laughter. An attempt at a poker face? Whatever it is, she’s now making me want to laugh.
“Dad had a talk with Tim…” She blurts out.
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