to them.
“Would your daughter care for some lemonade?” Barbara ventured one day.
“Aww, she’s all right. She got a Coke in there if she get thirsty.”
“She don’t ever get out the truck. Is she shy?”
Arthur’s bushy eyebrows rose. “Shy ain’t the word. If she could live her life inside her bedroom, she would,” he whispered. “If I didn’t bring her out on my rounds with me, the child would never get any fresh air or sun.”
Cole’s mother huffed. “Well, that can’t be good. What she do in the house all day?”
“Read.”
“Oh.”
On one particular day, when Melinda felt her father was dawdling way too long, she angrily honked the horn. Arthur sighed, rose, and patted his money-filled pockets.
“I guess that means it’s time to go.”
“Aw right now,” Arthur said as he rose. “I’ll see y’all next month.” Halfway down the walkway, he spun around. “I think I need to use your facilities before I head off.”
Cole’s father pointed toward the side of the house. “It’s just ’round back.”
Cole waited until Arthur was out of sight before he announced that he was going to introduce himself to Arthur Thompson’s impolite daughter.
Barbara giggled. “Yes, you should. Be nice though.”
At the truck, Cole stuck his face through the open driver’s-side window. Melinda had her head buried in a book, and so when he yelped, “Hey, how you doing?” it startled her, and the book fell from her hands and tumbled down to the floor. “I’m Cole Payne,” he announced thrusting his hand at her.
The flustered Melinda said nothing. Her eyes searched frantically for her father.
“And you’re Melinda, right?”
The young woman shook her head no and then yes.
Cole’s hand hung in the air between them. “This is where we shake and you say something back,” he laughed.
“Yes, of course.” Melinda hesitantly extended her hand. “I’m Melinda Thompson. Pleased to meet you.”
Cole grabbed hold of her hand and pumped it enthusiastically. “Nice to meet-cha, Melinda Thompson!” He noticed that she had her father’s brilliant blue eyes and curly blond hair. The square chin and thin-as-a-line nose, Cole assumed she’d inherited from her mother.
“Oh, uhm … yes … you too. I mean, me too … I mean …”
Cole released her hand and sniffed the air. “It smells nice in here. Is that you?”
Melinda blushed. “It’s the perfumed talc I’m wearing.”
Cole made a face. “Talc? What’s that?”
Melinda leaned over, retrieved her book from the floor, and placed it in her lap. “Powder.”
“Powder?” Cole scratched his chin. “What kinda powder? Like gunpowder?”
Melinda stammered. “No-n—”
Cole waved his hand at her. “I’m just pulling your leg, Melinda,” he laughed.
She cautiously joined in on his laughter. “Oh, of course.”
“Well, it was nice to finally meet you and see you.” He fashioned his thumb and index finger into a gun, aimed at her, winked, and clucked his tongue. “I thought you were just a pair of pretty feet.”
Melinda’s cheeks glowed.
“See ya.” And with that, Cole thumped the top of the truck and trotted off.
Melinda watched him until her father’s bloated belly floated into view.
“What you staring at so hard?” Arthur asked as he climbed into the truck.
“Nothing.”
Arthur turned the ignition and popped the clutch. The truck jerked forward and then settled into an easy roll.
Back at home, Cole’s smiling face swam circles in Melinda’s mind. She looked down at her hand and could swear she saw the imprints of his fingers on her skin. When she knelt to say her prayers before bed, she asked the Lord to keep Cole Payne safe.
The next month, Melinda once again accompanied her father on his collection rounds. Same as always, she rode with her feet dangling out of the truck window. But now those pretty toes were adorned with pink nail polish.
Arthur parked the truck on the road, in the shade. He turned off
Jimmy Fallon, Gloria Fallon