Page 39 of No Cap
The director jerked his chin at me. “You have her.”
The delivery guy held the food out to me and said, “This is yours. I was specifically asked to give it to you and only you.”
I reached out and took it.
“Marla’s holding down the fort while you eat lunch,” the director said. “Take every second of your hour. Enjoy.”
The doors closed on the both of them, leaving me standing in front of the elevator with a look of shock on my face.
I walked to the break room on that floor, placed my bag on the table, and opened it.
There was a note right on top.
Dear Grumpy,
I didn’t know what you liked, so I got you a few things. I finished the food out with a couple of desserts, because they always made my sisters happy when they were having a bad day. Try not to get arrested.
Quincy
I didn’t know why that note almost brought me into tears, but I did know that my anger at the man had somewhat calmed.
And with each bite of food, that anger cooled even more.
Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all…
I rode faces that I should’ve peed on.
—Text from Hollis to Quincy
QUINCY
I needed to change my oil, so the first place I went the next day, one of my two days off, was Kinny’s garage.
Kinny Fink, the man who owned Kinny’s garage, was a big bear of a man who intimidated most people.
Hell, when I’d first met Kinny at the age of seven and a half at school when he first moved to Dallas, I was intimidated, too.
At seven and three quarters, Kinny had been the biggest kid in school, and looked like he was twice the size of even me.
So, of course, being the badass that I was, I went up and talked to him at recess, and met one of the greatest friends of my life.
My brothers were great, but Kinny was larger than life and seemed to have this magnetism about him that drew everyone in.
It was from that point on that I realized Kinny was going places, and I should try to tie my star to him.
I’d always been a runt kid. And though my brothers would’ve helped protect me if things went sour, I found it easier to just hang out with Kinny who kids didn’t mess with.
Quaid and Quinn called Kinny a friend, but they both had their own best friends.
Kinny was mine.
Rolling up to his shop in my truck that might or might not be past due for an oil change, I parked in front of the big bay door and got out.
The way his shop was designed, he had three large bay doors in the front, and three in the back to pull straight through.
And every single lift was taken by a car.
Maybe the oil would have to be done by someone else…