Chapter20

#Chapter20

JAMESON

Twelve years ago

/"Jameson,/" my mom said as she came into the kitchen. /"A sixteen-year-old shouldn’t be working so hard... one job during the week and two on the weekends. You’ll burn out before you turn eighteen./" She moved closer. Her robe, a blue silk kimono style, went well with her elfin features and dark hair. At thirty-six, Mom was eight years younger than my dad, yet her eyes had small crinkles around the corners. I chalked them up to worry over me, her antisocial son.

My deep sigh betrayed my annoyance. We’d had this conversation before. Though we lived well (with my dad being a doctor and my mom an interior designer) they expected me to work for what I wanted.

And I’d wanted nothing more than the money for the 1967 Mustang wasting away in his garage. The body and interior were in an excellent state, the engine... not so much. After haggling back and forth for a week, we’d come to an agreement on the price.