The Pickup - His Perspective

She slammed the door of her pickup as she saw me step out onto the hotel balcony and shout to her. She hadn’t said a word. Didn’t tell me anything. Just drove away. There was no use for me to yell or run downstairs and out the lobby door because she was gone. Completely. Irrevocably. Gone. 

As I leaned on the balcony railing and watched her drive out of my life I thought of how she had just driven into it, into me, literally, one week before. I had been pulling out of this same parking lot when she came around the corner and drove her beat-up pickup truck into me. It didn’t cause any damage to me or my SUV but her truck pretty much fell apart upon impact. The next moment she did. Fall apart.  

I got out of my car quickly, glancing at my car and seeing that it was OK and feeling that I was, I heard her crying with her head on the steering wheel. Her window was down and I looked in and was glad to see that she wasn’t bleeding. But she looked miserable. She looked over at me with the saddest face and then started crying again. 

I told her that I was OK and my vehicle was fine and she seemed OK. Then she wailed something about her truck and how she had destroyed it and it had belonged to her grandfather and then to her Dad and now it was hers. I told her he would probably understand and she started crying again and said he had given it to her three months ago and this was his pride and joy that he had driven for twenty years after her grandfather had driven it for twenty before that. I said that I could see that and she gave me a mean look and I said I didn’t mean anything by it.  

Then she sniffled and got out of the car and looked at the front of it. It was smashed in and I could tell it would cost her insurance company a bunch to fix it. I told her not to worry because that’s why we all have insurance and at least she wouldn’t have to pay to fix my car or me but that just set her off crying again. It seems she didn’t have insurance that she came to this town to get a job and then she would get insurance. 

I knew then that there was nothing that I could say to make her happy. She was in some trouble because her truck looked totaled to me because it was so old and would probably cost more to fix it than it was worth. On the other hand, since it was so old maybe she could get it running somehow for a while anyway. It’s not like it had to look great. It just had to run. 

It was then that I looked at the truck more closely and ran my hand across the bumper that was hanging off. I told her that I had a friend who had a garage where he worked on older vehicles and maybe he could fix hers enough for her to drive it until she could afford a good one. She glared at me and said thanks but her truck was a classic and if my friend could get it fixed she would drive it forever. 

I called my buddy and soon he pulled up in his tow truck. He looked over the truck and then at me. I nodded and he smiled. He told the girl that he had the parts needed and he could fix it in about a week. She said thanks and watched as her truck was towed away after she got a suitcase out of it.  

I told her she could stay at this hotel while her truck was being fixed because I owned it and we had some available rooms. She said ok but only if she could work for it. I told her that wasn't necessary but she said it was. 

So I got her checked in and introduced her to the head of housekeeping who put her to work cleaning rooms. She seemed fine doing that and I left and went to the meeting that I had across town that I was very late for. But I didn't care. 

That week she cleaned and I finished the deal across town. Each evening we ate dinner together and talked for hours, mostly about her. Sometimes about her dad, and her mom. She said she was an only child but didn't mind. She had lots of friends and was taking the summer off before college. I tried to talk her out of working but she wouldn't hear of it. She would work for her keep. Besides, she said she would need money for the truck repairs. 

Finally, the truck was all fixed and my buddy delivered it to the hotel. She walked around it and smiled excitedly. She said it hadn't looked this good in twenty years. I said try forty. 

She asked my friend how much she owed him. He just waved and said he and I had been friends since we were kids and it was all taken care of. She didn't owe a thing. He was just glad to work on the truck again. 

As he walked away she looked at me and then just walked back into the hotel. I didn't see her all day but found out that she worked her shift. Then that evening I saw her from my room and walked out on the balcony just as she opened the door of her truck. 

I'm sorry I didn't tell you I yelled to her. And I'm sorry for a lot more...granddaughter. 

I stayed on the balcony as I watched her drive away in my old truck. My eyes misted as I thought of what I missed, what I had lost. 

Then I heard the truck pull into the parking lot from the other direction. The sound of it was unmistakable. As was her voice when she yelled to me, “Hey Grandpa, want to go for a ride in your truck?” 

I could hardly speak as I said, “It's your truck now, but yes. And I'm so sorry I didn't tell you earlier about who I was.”  

She smiled up and told me “It's ok. Why do you think I hit you?”