Chapter 20: The Truck

Daniel's POV

A kid in a Browns cap paid me eleven thousand dollars in cash for the truck.

We checked the bills on the hood, in my driveway.

I handed him the keys. I stood on the curb in front of Maple Court and watched my truck turn the corner, and I felt lighter than I had in a month.

Rory pulled up in his battered canoe pickup before the sound of it faded.

"Need a ride, son?"

"I need a furniture store."

"I know a place." He leaned across and shoved the door open. "It's got reverse."

We bought a glider, a dresser, and a lamp with a blue shade.

I paid for all of it with the truck, and the receipt had my name on it.

At the register the clerk smiled and asked, "Is it for a gift?"

"It's for my daughter," I said.

I had never said it to a stranger before.

It came out of my mouth easily.

I told my office on Tuesday.

My supervisor stood at his desk with a clipboard, and asked if I could cover a bridge in Delaware County on Thursday.

"I can't," I said. "I have a hearing."

"Anything I can help with?"

I took a photograph out of my wallet and put it on his blotter.

It was June at a month old, in the striped cap, with the copper hair showing at the edges.

"That's my daughter," I said. "Her name is June. She was born in October. I didn't put her on the board because I was ashamed."

He looked at the picture, and at me.

"Of her?"

"Of me."

He sat down slowly.

"Take Thursday," he said. "Take Friday, too, Ferris. And congratulations. You should've said."