Page 40 of No Cap
Still, I went in and found Kinny in the office talking on the phone.
He was tapping his foot on the floor, looking irritated.
“Listen,” he said angrily. “It takes nothing for you to send your parts driver back out here. I wasn’t the one who dropped that part off and ran like my ass is on fire.” He paused. “And why is it my fault that he’s scared? I never did anything to that kid besides greet him.”
At six-foot-seven and three hundred pounds, Kinny looked scary. Especially with the bushy beard and black eyes. But he was a teddy bear.
“Fine, but I’m not waiting any longer than an hour. If you don’t get it here by one, after my lunch, I’m finding a new parts distributor.”
Thems were fighting words.
Kinny owned the largest garage—and the most profitable—in the DFW area. He worked on all cars, big or small. New, old. It didn’t matter. And he was a fair businessman. I’d seen more people come in here without a dime to their name, having trouble with their car, and get a deal worked out than I’d seen leave unhappy.
Kinny hung up the phone very gently and turned to survey me.
“Hey there, Dandy,” Kinny said, using my school age nickname. “Gettin’ your oil changed finally?”
I nodded. “You think one of your minions could do it while we go have some lunch?”
He jerked his chin at a kid I’d clocked the moment I arrived. “Hey, Al. Can you get the blue truck pulled in and get the oil changed?”
Al nodded and was gone.
“He needs the keys,” I pointed out.
Kinny rolled his eyes. “Give him a minute. He’ll remember when he can’t start it.”
He was back a few seconds later, cheeks a little pinker than when he’d left, and said, “Uh, I need the keys.”
I tossed them to him, which he bobbled and dropped.
Kinny shook his head as the kid left.
“You have a warranty on it if he fucks up my oil or something?” I asked, sounding just as amused as I felt.
“Kid’s a fuckin’ genius with cars, man,” Kinny said. “But swear to God, he acts like a bumbling idiot when he’s talking to customers.”
I snorted. “What’s going on with those parts?”
“I swear to fuckin’ Christ.” He groaned. “I’m so tired of that parts kid. He runs in here like I’ve beaten him bloody every time he stops by. Then leaves the wrong damn part half the time. By the time I can see if it’s the right part, he’s peeling out of the parking lot and not looking back.”
“That’s awesome.”
“It’s bullshit,” he grumbled. “Let me go tell my girl we’re leaving, and then figure out if she wants us to bring something back.”
“You can ask her to join us,” I offered.
Kinny was already shaking his head. “She’s working on her car. I doubt she’d go.”
I’d heard of the girl, of course.
Kinny was all about helping people. If someone needed a ride, he was there to offer it. If someone needed a spare dollar at the grocery store, it was coming out of his pocket. If someone needed help moving a house full of furniture, he was the one bringing the truck and the trailer.
Kinny was the best friend to a lot of people.
Funny enough, Kinny called her ‘my girl’ but from what I understood, they didn’t have any sort of romantic relationship to speak of.
Kinny had a thing for tiny little girls who fit in the palm of his hand, and as we rounded the corner of the shop, the ass that greeted me was definitely not his type.