Learning to be Beautiful

Learning to be Beautiful ~11~

“You are such a dweeb!” I laughed into my cell phone as I walked down the steep, San Francisco street. I was on my way to buy a car at a local dealership. I had finally caved when I realized that Gavin and my mom couldn’t drive me everywhere. It was impractical to buy a car here in ‘Frisco when I spent most of my time at school, but I figured that if I really had to, I could just drive over to the school instead of flying.

“I’m not a dweeb!” Gavin protested on the other end, laughing as well. “I’m the guy whom you owe a birthday present.” He still hadn’t let that gift thing go, and it was getting a little bit annoying.

“You know what? Fine. I’ll pick you up a gift on my way home from the car dealership.”

Gavin started to cheer on his side, and I smiled at his enthusiasm.

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way to your place, ‘kay?” I asked, spotting the small car lot and quickening my pace.

“Yeah, yeah that’s cool.” Gavin agreed.

“Great, see ya soon, Gav.”

“Later, Ais.”

I hit the ‘end call’ button just as I walked into the car lot.

Different types of cars were everywhere with stickers of their prices slapped onto their wind-shields. I honestly had no idea just what kind of car I was looking for, but I knew that I wanted it in blue. A blast of cool air met me as I walked into the huge, silver interior of the main building.

A short, pudgy man in an atrocious yellow suit waddled out of his office, and a smile lit his face when he saw me.

“You must be Aislyn Palmin!” He crowed, toddling towards me even faster now. For a moment I wondered how he knew who I was, but the silent question was soon answered. “I’d know that face anywhere. You look exactly like your old man.” Quickly, he grabbed my hand and shook it up and down furiously. “The name’s Pete Welling. It’s wonderful to meet Mike’s little girl in person, yes, yes it is!”

I was caught off guard by his use of my dad’s name, “I’m sorry,” I started, “you know my father?”

The stout man’s bellowing laugh ran all around the room, “Know your father? My dear, I’m as good as your uncle.”

“Is he… is he here?” Tentatively, I let the words slip past my lips and almost immediately the Pete’s face darkened.

“No… no he’s not here anymore. Hasn’t been around for quite a while now.” He looked at me curiously, tapping a large, sausage-like finger against his double chin. “Do you really not know, dear?”

I just looked at him in confusion, and the folds of his face softened.

“Mike died two years ago. Lung cancer.” He shook his head, sighing, “Poor fella couldn’t go fifteen minutes without a smoke; it killed him, it did.”