<< Go Back

Repossessing Christmas

By Pattie Frampton

Order Now!

CHAPTER ONE

Whoever said size doesn’t matter had never been fishing with his teammate, Josh. Sitting at a red light, Max Southerton glanced down at the picture on his phone. A giant marlin hung next to his friend, who was clad in board shorts giving two thumbs-up. For the sixth year in a row, Max told himself spending the off-season deep-sea fishing in tropical locations was overrated. The pang of envy was followed by his mantra: This is where I’m needed and where I need to be.
When the light turned, Max took a left on Bower Road, icy snow crunching under the truck tires. Less than a mile later, he spotted the gray Honda sitting trunk up in a ditch. Pulling off to the shoulder, he flipped the switch for the overhead flashers and put the tow truck in Park. He had to make this fast, as the temperature had dipped into negative numbers again. At least the weekend forecast was calling for overcast skies, which meant it might warm up enough to snow.
Jumping down from the cab, careful of the ice under his feet, Max pulled the knit cap lower on his head and zipped his collar past his chin as he approached the car’s owner, who stood shivering along the side of the road. The world was eerily silent except for the occasional snapping of tree limbs under the weight of their crystal icing.
This is where I’m needed and where I need to be.
Forty minutes later, he pulled into the lot of Southerton Garage and Towing. After leaving the paperwork and a check the Honda owner had written for ditch removal services on his cousin Lee’s desk, Max went looking for his uncle Craig. He scanned the three bays for his uncle’s work boots under one of the rigs but only found one pair, too small to be Craig’s.
“Hey, Lee.” Max kicked his cousin’s boot, which were not the kind of boots the women in the city wore.
“Christian?”
“No. It’s Max.”
She shot out from under the Jeep Liberty like a bullet out of a gun, her long blonde hair in a thick braid over her grease-stained shoulder. He barely caught her as she launched herself into his arms.
“I’m so glad you’re back. Congratulations! We have to plan a party.”
“Maybe we can wait until everyone’s home for Christmas.”
“That’s even better. I’m sorry Dad and I couldn’t make it. I mean, it’s not every day your cousin plays in the World Series—and wins, no less. We appreciate you offering us the trip, though.”
“I understand.” His uncle had owned this garage for longer than Max could remember. It was his livelihood. When he wasn’t putting cars back together, he didn’t get paid.
“We’re so proud of you.”
“So, who’s Christian?” She’d been out of town when he got back over the weekend. Was this guy the reason why? Max dropped his fists on his hips and gave Lee his best glare, which never worked on her.
“Who?” Lee pulled a shop rag from the back pocket of her Carhart pants, avoiding his gaze.
“Nice try. That might work with your brothers, but it won’t with me.”
“That never worked with my brothers, either.” Lee gave a playful backhanded slap to his chest.
Max laughed. He knew that. Since coming to live with his uncle and three cousins when he was fifteen, they had all been a little overprotective of Everlee Southerton. Not that they needed to be. The little firecracker could take care of herself.
“Speaking of which, how are my brothers, and when are you going to shave that hideous beard?” She reached up to pull on the overgrown monstrosity on his face. What started as a playoff beard in September had gotten a little out of control. He had no intention of keeping it, but maybe a few more days just to taunt her.
Again, Max laughed. Before his sixteenth birthday, he hadn’t had a whole lot to laugh about. That changed after his uncle took him in. He felt a part of something bigger than himself, bigger than his parents’ problems. He met God, learned to laugh and be grateful for the small things life had to offer, and valued what was left of his family.
“It was nice having Chase and Adam there.” He grabbed the rag from her hand and wiped a spot of grease from her chin. They were like the brothers he never had, and Lee a little sister. “And the beard might stay while I’m here in the coldest place on earth.” It wasn’t, but today it felt like it.
“Again, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be. Next year when the Flyers get back to the World Series, you can bring Christian.”
She punched him in the shoulder. “Stop it.”
Max burst out laughing.
“You have to tell me everything about the parade, and if Jimmy Kimmel is as nice in person as he seems on TV,” she said, referring to his appearance on the late night show.
He opened his mouth to reply when his uncle poked his head around the soda machine by his office.
“Max. You get that Honda taken care of?” Craig Southerton was a bear of a man, with a rough voice that carried over the clanking of tools around the garage, the buzz of an air compressor, and one of his favorite Zach Brown songs.
“Yes, sir.” Max handed the rag back to Lee and walked toward Craig.
“Good. I just got a call about a repo. It’s local. Shouldn’t take me more than an hour. Mind watching the office while I’m gone? I’m expecting a delivery of parts. You’ll need to check them carefully. I’ve ordered this crank shaft three times and they keep sending the wrong one.”
“I’ll do the repo.” Max gave Lee, who had followed him just like she had when they were younger, a little shove.
“We’ll talk later. It’s good to have you home,” she said and returned to the Jeep she’d been under when he found her.
Max turned back to his uncle.
“You sure, son?”
Max’s heart swelled, making his eyes sting a little. It always got him when his uncle called him that. He couldn’t remember his dad ever calling him “son.”
“If it will make things easier for you, yeah, I’m sure.” This is where I’m needed….
Max took the information and headed back out into the frigid air. He hated doing repos, remembering all too well what it felt like when his folks started losing their things one by one. But he was here to take some of the burden off Craig, let him catch his breath. Max figured he owed it to him for taking on a lost and angry teenager and turning him into something.
And where I need to be.
After signing his major-league contract, Max had offered his father’s older brother money to upgrade the garage and buy a new tow truck. Craig’s pride won out, so Max repaid him by spending his off-seasons in Alden, Wyoming, with the only family he had left, even if it meant the occasional repo job.

Order Now!

<< Go Back