I get up and pace around the pool. Some old giraffe blow-up bobs in the wind as I walk around it. I’m not sure what the hell just happened, but if Uncle Ron owns the warehouse, getting it won’t be easy. He wants some fancy truck then fine, he can get some fancy truck. I take out my phone and call up Dean.
“There she is,” he says. “I knew you couldn’t go a whole day without talking to me.”
“You’re so modest.”
“Just honest. What can I do for the perfect Lora Lofthouse?”
“Well, I have some… weird news.”
“Hit me.”
“Turns out, my Uncle Ron owns the warehouse. Which is why my mother said she has nothing to do with it.”
He’s silent for a long moment. “Sort of seems like she does, though.”
“Uncle Ron hates my father and mother,” I say. “Long story, but basically he got passed over for the head of the family gig, and that went to my dad. Resented them ever since.”
“Ah,” he says. “And so I assume he’s a super nice guy and really doting?”
“You assume wrong.”
He sighs. “Of course.”
“He hates us all, but he’s always hanging around anyway, spending time with my dad, who is totally freaking clueless. But anyway, listen, he came to me just now and asked for something.”
“Money, I assume?”
“No, actually. He asked for a truck.”
Dean chuckles. “Well, we have a ton of those.”
“He wants something called a Ford F-150 Limited. Does that make sense?”
“Sure,” he says. “We’re a Ford dealer among other things. I think we have one on the lot right now. That’s a real fancy truck, goes for like fifty grand.”
“Of course,” I say. “He won’t settle for anything less.”
“So is this the price of the whole warehouse?” he asks. “Because that’s a really good fucking deal if so. I can get it at cost.”
“Well, that’s the problem. I don’t really know. He just came out here, told me he owned the warehouse, and asked for the truck.”
Dean groans. “Lora.”
“I know. But he wants the truck, so what can we do? Let’s get him the truck.”
“It’s not that easy. I can’t just… take a truck. We paid for it.”
“Oh, he also wants it totally upgraded, all the extras and stuff.”
Dean sighs again. “Well that rules out the one we have on the lot. The Limited comes in a couple varieties, one with everything, and one with just a few extras. We don’t carry the super top-of-the-line model.”
“Can you order it?”
“Sure, and I can try to source it from another lot, something like that. But we need to know if this is what the warehouse costs, or if this is just some kind of down payment or whatever.”
“Right, okay.” I take a deep breath. “I’ll work on that, you work on the truck. Sound good?”
“I guess.” He hesitates. “I really don’t want to involve my dad in this.”
“Then don’t tell him. How much do we need? You said fifty grand?”
“Lora—”
“I’m rich,” I tell him. “Did you forget? I have a trust fund and I can take money out of it whenever I want, more or less. Fifty grand won’t even set me back for a month.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. “Seriously?”
“For real.”
“You’re insane.” He laughs. “Just how rich are you?”
“Small country rich. Look, go figure out how to get the truck, the sooner the better. I’ll talk to Uncle Ron again…. Probably.”
“I don’t like that probably.”
“I don’t like talking to Uncle Ron. Bye!” I hang up the phone and stand there by the pool, grinning to myself.
This feels good. I don’t know what it is, but I like it. For a long moment, I bask in my emotions, until I realize what I’m feeling.
It’s purpose.
I haven’t felt like I’ve had a purpose for a long time. I can’t remember the last time I had a purpose. Probably when I was in school, and maybe not since I was a freshman. But now I feel like I’ve finally found something worth my time and effort. And I know it’ll take a lot of time, and even more effort, but the idea is exciting.
I’ve been sitting around wasting away in the manor for long enough. It’s time to do something decent with myself.8DeanI spend the rest of the day on the phone with other dealerships in the area, hunting down a fully loaded F-150 Limited. It takes me a while, but I finally get one guy about an hour away to trade me for a couple of lower end F-150s in black. Fortunately, we have an excess of black right now for some reason, so I call my garage guys and put the order in.
Everything set up, I text Lora.Me: Sourced your truck. Shows up tomorrow.
Lora: Amazing!!! What!!! How???
Me: I’m amazing. That’s how.
Lora: YES. You. ARE.
Me: I really appreciate the pep talk or whatever this is.