The warmer weather had begun to wear down the snow, leaving only small patches of dirty slush here and there. The pavement on the parking lot was practically bare, giving me hope that I’d be back on my scooter by the weekend. Did I ever miss jaunting around town on my Vespa!
I’d told Mama I’d meet her as soon as the expo events wrapped up, but I’d been delayed helping reorganize the Dragonfly Room after a few gals tried to mix wine sampling with craft assembling. Not a good combination. Anyway, it was almost eight thirty by the time I finally made my way out to Mama’s truck. I found her standing outside the passenger door, staring down at a flat tire and talking on her cell.
“What happened?”
She hung up and waved her hand through the air. “It’s as flat as a pancake, that’s what. Must’ve hit somethin’ on my way into town this mornin’.” She moved around to the back end of the truck and threw open the tailgate. “I’ve got a jack back here someplace. I usually keep a spare mounted under the chassis, but I used it last summer and didn’t replace it. I called Oscar. He’s got an extra that should fit my truck. Said he’d bring it right over.”
“Isn’t he busy at the restaurant?”
She shrugged. “Not too busy to give a friend a hand, I guess.”
Her tone spoke volumes. She was still upset about my earlier behavior. I wrapped my coat tighter around my midsection and took a deep breath. “Look, Mama. I’m sorry about the way I acted toward Oscar today. I was rude and it was wrong of me.”
Having retrieved a jack and wrench from the toolbox in the bed of her truck, she slid off the tailgate. “It’s not me you need to apologize to, sugar.”
My breath caught. She wanted me to apologize to Oscar? I sighed. She was probably right. I did owe him an apology. “Of course. And I’m sorry I embarrassed you in front of everyone.”
She was squatting in front of the flat, sliding the jack under the truck’s carriage. “Well, I probably should’ve told y’all about Oscar before ya saw us out like that. Must have been quite the shocker.”
I nodded. “You could say that.” I watched as she started pumping the jack. I stepped in and squatted next to her. “Let me do that, Mama.”
Her strong arms kept working the jack. “I’ve got it.” She paused and looked over at me, her eyes bright and clear blue. “I’m not as old as y’all might think. I’m still plenty capable of doin’ lots of things.”
“Sure you are. I know that, Mama!”
She kept pumping until the truck rose off the ground. Then she grabbed the wrench and started loosening the lug nuts. “Like to have this thing off here before Oscar shows up. Hate to keep him too long.”
I stood by, helplessly watching. Wishing I could go back and undo my earlier behavior. I couldn’t, so I did the next best thing. “If you like Oscar, then I’ll try to like him, too.” I didn’t sound quite as sincere as I’d hoped to, but Mama stopped working and looked my way.
“I’m glad to hear you say that. I don’t know where this is going with Oscar and me. I can tell ya he’s a good guy. Treats me like a queen, he does. And cooks like it’s nobody’s business.” Her face lit up a bit when she mentioned his cooking. “But the truth is it’s been a long time since your daddy left this world. And I miss him every day, sug. Don’t you go thinkin’ that any man could ever take his place. But I’m lonely. You’ve got yourself a fiancé now. And Trey, well, he’s making his own way.” She shrugged. “I dunno. It’s hard to figure. Doesn’t make sense for an old woman like me to be thinkin’ of such things . . .”
I put my hand on her shoulder. “No, Mama. It makes perfect sense. And, I’m trying to be happy for you. Really I am.”
She nodded and smiled at me, relief evident in her eyes. Then she turned back to the task at hand, working the rusty lug nuts with all her might. “Well, shoot! These damn things are on here tighter than bark on a tree.”
At that very moment, Oscar drove up in a powder blue Cadillac, circa 1970-something. He threw open the driver’s door and heaved his girth out onto the pavement. He must have come right over from the restaurant because he was still wearing his customary ankle-length black apron over a white button-down shirt and black trousers. “Let me take care of that, Althea.” He walked around the back of his Caddy, threw open the trunk, and hefted out a spare tire. “I’ll get you fixed right up,” he added, rolling the tire our way.
It was dark, with only the light from a nearby lamp pole to illuminate the scene, and still I could tell Mama was blushing with pleasure. “Well, thank ya, Oscar,” she said, stepping aside to make room for him. “It’s so good of you to drop what ya were doin’ just to come help me.”
I hung back to watch, a little surprised by Mama’s helpless act. I had no doubt that given just a little more time, she would have weaseled out those lug nuts by herself. For years she’d taken care of tires and all sorts of other thing—much bigger things!—on her own. I cleared my throat. “Mr. Belmonte?”