Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
My heart beat faster. “And his… his child?”
“Child?” Beau frowned. “Nah. You’re barking up the wrong tree. Diesel lives alone. Been to his place over at the junkyard a time or two, and it’s not real child-friendly—”
“You’ve been to his house?” I screeched. I’d low-key considered hiring a private detective to find the guy, and all along Uncle Beau knew him?
“The question is, Parrish, how do you know him?”
“I don’t!” I insisted. “Didn’t even know his name. But I ran into him once before, and I was… I was rude,” I admitted.
“You were?” Beau shook his head, as astonished as if I’d told him I could fly. “But you’re never rude.”
I laughed. “I think you have too much faith in me, Uncle Beau.”
“I think I have just the right amount of faith in you, son.” He patted my arm comfortingly. “That’s how I know that whatever misunderstanding you and Diesel might’ve had, you’ll set it right.”
I chewed my lip and nodded. “I’ll have to apologize.”
“Sure enough, and do him a favor to make up for it, if you can. And maybe bring him a casserole.”
“A casserole?” I eyed him skeptically. Not a car? Not a telegram? “Really? For Diesel?”
“Trust me, Parrish.” Beau nodded sagely. “No one’s ever gone wrong with an apology casserole.”
2
Diesel
It wasn’t so much that Stewie wasn’t a good person. He was. The guy had agreed to help me out for not much more than a promise of free parts for his broken-down washer and dryer. But when the guy advertised his legal practice on the back of a bathroom stall door at the tractor supply store, it didn’t necessarily mean he was all that great a lawyer either.
“I’m just sayin’, Diesel, that this doesn’t look good, man. You know,” Stewie said, flapping his hand around to encompass the old house, the salvage yard, and my old beat-up truck. A few of the chickens had gotten past the fence and were wandering around looking for treats. “All this won’t exactly impress the caseworker as much as the Kensingtons’ mansion and racing stables will, and Judge Merriman didn’t seem too enthusiastic about the results of your initial home visit from last week. If the Kensingtons’ attorney hadn’t made that comment about being a Vols fan, and if Merriman hadn’t been a proud Alabama alum—Roll Tide!—we might be having a very different conversation right now. If you don’t ace the next inspection—and I’m talking A-plus-plus, where the caseworker puts a shiny gold star and a smiley face at the top of the paper—there’s not gonna be much we can do. I’ve looked at the court schedule for your hearing date next month, and you’re not getting Merriman again.”
I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. You might think it was weird to put my faith in a man who measured success based on smiley faces at the top of a paper, and you’d be right. But beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Besides, it wasn’t like he was telling me anything I didn’t already know. “The caseworker who came out before was barely here ten minutes. She took one look at the yard and at me”—I motioned to my very visible tattoos—“and made up her mind before she stepped inside the door. I can’t help how I live, Stewie. It’s not like I have millions of dollars like the Kensingtons. But I will love this baby more than they ever could, and we both know it.”
He held up a hand. “Now, that remains to be seen. Brenda and Hunt seem enamored with her, same as you. But they don’t have the blood connection, and that’s what we’re going to emphasize. It ain’t gonna be easy, though. The next caseworker they send will be somebody new, so you’re gonna have a clean slate. We need to use that to our advantage. I made a punch list of things you need to work on to make yourself the best candidate possible.”
I nodded. “Alright.”
He reached into a faded red backpack that looked like he’d probably dragged it through Licking Thicket High a decade ago and was still using it to this day. When he pulled out a crumpled-up piece of notebook paper with handwritten notes on it, I started to really worry.
“You sure you have an actual law degree?” I asked for the third time.
Stewie sighed. “Yes. I told you I did. But I also told you that I do real estate closings, not this family shit, alright? However… you really did us a solid last year when you took Phil’s spot on the mound at the championship game, and that’s the kind of loyalty the Nine Inch Males don’t forget.”
“You really need a new team name,” I muttered, remembering the softball game where the only redeeming part of the day had been all the beer Stewie and his friends had bought me after I’d pitched a no-hitter. The day had brought back memories of Aunt Birdie teaching me how to throw snowballs at a makeshift target she’d painted on the side of the tractor shed the first winter I was in the Thicket. She’d said I was such a natural, I should try out for the baseball team at Licking Thicket High. I hadn’t, but it had been nice to know she cared.