Off the Market
“This time I was taking Etta to her office to draw up the paperwork to buy a house, my childhood home, the one I hoped I would someday be able to share with her. I didn’t say it out loud, but I felt it. There was something that felt right about being with her in that house. I started to imagine putting up the Christmas tree in the living room with her beside me and making Thanksgiving dinner in my mom’s old stove and Etta right beside me through it all.
I still couldn’t believe she was sitti...ng next to me like a tiny angel in my big, red truck. She always said she hated my pick-up truck when we were younger, but there was something I always loved about a truck. Maybe it was the guy in me or maybe it was my dad’s influence. Dad started off with carpentry as a hobby and it grew into a business. I always had this silly dream, when I was younger, that I would be just like my dad. I would drive a large, red pick-up truck with all the construction equipment in the back.MoreLess
I still couldn’t believe she was sitti...ng next to me like a tiny angel in my big, red truck. She always said she hated my pick-up truck when we were younger, but there was something I always loved about a truck. Maybe it was the guy in me or maybe it was my dad’s influence. Dad started off with carpentry as a hobby and it grew into a business. I always had this silly dream, when I was younger, that I would be just like my dad. I would drive a large, red pick-up truck with all the construction equipment in the back.MoreLess
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