Page 102 of Big Britches
“No need to be sorry. You’ve had a storm cloud following you around for quite some time and I aim to be rid of it.”
“Is it legal?” Pedro asked. “Please tell me it’s legal.”
Titus laughed. “Yes. I don’t want either of us in jail again. But you will have to accept a wee bit of charity on my part—our part, I should say.”
“I have to work, T. I need it. I enjoy being outside and I don’t want you supporting me. I mean, I want you in my life, but not for your money. It’s never been about that. It’s more than that. I’m more than that.”
“Yes. Yes, you are. And you’re going to work, alright. Maybe even a little harder than you did before. But you won’t be looking over your shoulder—that, I can promise.”
Before Pedro could inquire further what Titus was getting to, the sound of a vehicle approaching interrupted them.
“Ah,” said Titus. “Right on time.” He stood, gesturing for Pedro to follow.
A large, white Chevy Silverado was pulling through the gate. Behind it, in tow, was a shiny black mesh trailer filled with landscaping equipment.
They met the truck in the driveway. The engine roared and Pedro could smell diesel.
“It’s a C/K 2500, 6.5-liter turbo engine. A lot of pull,” Titus shouted over its rumbling. “Brand new. Pretty, ain’t it?”
Pedro nodded absently. The noise and smell of the engine, combined with its mysterious arrival, was a little surreal. He felt dazed.
Pedro couldn’t see who was driving because the driver’s side window was tinted. His eyes drifted below it to the green graphics and lettering which read:
TSA Landscaping
Torres, Shepherd,
and Abernathy,
Proprietors
Pedro looked to Titus, uncertain. The truck’s engine cut off with a welcome hush, and Alden Abernathy opened the driver’s door and hopped out.
“You must be Pedro,” he said, extending his hand. He was a good-looking man, clean-cut and muscled. “Titus has told me a lot about you. I hear you’re going to make a great business partner.”
Pedro shook Alden’s hand. With his other, he reached out and touched the shiny truck.
“This one’s yours,” Titus said, grinning. “I have two more on order. You’re going to need to hire a crew. I thought you might find Carlos, get him back somehow, and anyone else you see fit. I think we can easily start with a three or four-man crew, maybe five. Winters are pretty mild here, and short. But I’m hoping you can come up with something in the off-season to help keep us rolling.”
Pedro looked at both of them. They were standing before him, hands on hips, smiling. Big men. He could almost imagine them in their football gear, looking to him for direction as if he were the coach.
“Yes,” he said, accepting the prompt. “We should expand… maybe tree removal, mulching. Silas wastes a lot. We could turn that waste into money.”
Alden grinned big. “I like this guy, T. He sees opportunity. He’s a keeper.”
“I’ll say.” Titus countered, beaming. “Alden and I go way back, P. We’ve been friends and business partners for almost ten years now. We’re used to winning. We think you’ll make a substantial addition to our team.”
Pedro gave a brief smile, but then emotion took over. His expression contorted and collapsed as tears began to flow. Titus opened his arms. “Come here,” he said, and Pedro clutched him.
“No one has ever done anything like this for me. I can’t tell you how much it means.”
Titus squeezed him tight. “I love you, sweet P. I told you I am never letting you go. Woe to those who try to come between us.”
“How do you like the name?” Alden asked, wandering back toward the truck to give them a moment. He traced his fingers over the stenciled vinyl. “TSA. I think it’s kind of catchy.”
Later that evening, Titus joined Pedro in bed.
“Is he asleep?” Pedro asked, regarding Tucker.