Ready or Not (Aggie's Inheritance) (3 page)

“
Ten minutes and counting. Who is not ready? Ready or not, out you go!
”

* * *

A suave young salesman hastened to meet Aggie as she climbed out of her little convertible. He was like a shark nearing his prey until he drew near enough to see Aggie. Her clothing was simple, yet feminine, and she wore no make-up to accentuate her features. Aggie was not a woman who intentionally drew attention to herself, and as a result, she often prevented undesirable attention. This young, self-proclaimed stud-muffin was a perfect example. Putting on his best salesman demeanor, he turned off his
“
wolf radar
”
and closed in for another kind of kill.

“
May I help you? Are you looking for a new set of wheels? Perhaps something a little more sophisticated?
”
His eagerness to sell cars was glaringly apparent, and without bothering with introductions, or even asking what kind of vehicle Aggie needed, he steered her to a line of sports cars.
“
Surely, one of these beauties is just what you need. This cherry-red Miata, perhaps?
”

Aggie, moving away from the line of shiny and brightly-colored cars, finally found her voice. She glanced at the man
’
s nametag and tried to speak before he interrupted her again.
“
Hello. Jeff, is it? Actually, I am looking for something more substantial and roomier. Something that seats…
”

The arrogant and smug salesman quickly interrupted her.
“
Oh, looking for an SUV, eh? Well, we have a nice selection of them right over here. Is there any particular color you are looking for?
”

Before she had a chance to respond, Jeff said,
“
I see you in a nice blue sport SUV. You know, something to match those beautiful blue eyes.
”
It was obvious to the flustered young woman that this salesman was uninterested in learning what she was shopping for and was quite proud of his smooth talk. It was also glaringly apparent that he was colorblind. Aggie
’
s hazel eyes never looked blue.

Aggie sighed and spoke up, interrupting another of Jeff
’
s self-centered, pushy monologues.
“
Excuse me, but are you interested in what
I
am looking for? If not, there
are
other dealers in town; maybe one of them would like to sell me a vehicle.
”

Without much of a pause, she continued.
“
I want a
van
. I want a twelve passenger, gas-guzzling vehicle that will hold my eight children and a friend or two on occasion. I don
’
t see them, but do you have any available?
”

Taken aback, the salesman expostulated,
“
You have eight children? Impossible!
”
Not even giving Aggie a chance to respond, he continued.
“
Don
’
t you know what causes that?
”
Tact was obviously not Jeff
’
s strong suit.

Aggie sighed and tried again.
“
I just inherited, for the lack of a better word, my sister
’
s eight children, and I need transportation for all of them. Do you have a
van
that will hold all of us?
”
She was ready to concede defeat and leave, but the need for a vehicle overrode her burning desire to deny him a commission from her purchase.

“
If you inherited all eight from your sister, why didn
’
t she leave you her van too? You
’
d think it was the least
--
”

Sighing, she turned to leave. After taking a few steps from the bewildered and rude salesman, she looked over her shoulder and said,
“
If you want to sell cars, I
’
d suggest you learn how to listen to your potential customers and learn how
not
to insult them.
”

* * *

Hours later, Aggie sat in a dark, tacky, paneled office trailer at the last used car lot on her list. The previous car dealerships had offered no better help in her quest for adequate transportation than the first. She
’
d had her pick of pure junk or overloaded machines, sporting everything from DVD players to individual leather bucket seats. Her newest sales acquaintance, Zeke, listened intently as she tried to describe what she needed and why she needed it yesterday. Zeke found it difficult to pay attention to what she said. Her bright and lovely hazel eyes were overflowing with tears, and Zeke was always moved and helpless around a lady in tears.

Aggie liked Zeke
’
s face. Deep lines etched around his eyes and white hair belied his youthful demeanor. He was a bit weathered, but his eyes were gentle and his voice low. He listened intently while stroking one side of an old-fashioned handlebar mustache. She noticed that the side he toyed with was slightly shorter than the other and wondered if it was due to his absentminded habit. Even sitting on the corner of his desk, Zeke was a large, imposing man. Instinctively, Aggie felt that he was a softie with a tender heart. His sympathetic demeanor and the understanding that shone in his eyes prompted her to confide in him, and she hoped he could give her the help she needed.

Aggie spoke almost incoherently through the threatening tears.
“
You see, I can
’
t get
all of them
ready on time yet, and so they end up missing school because I can
’
t take them all. I need at least a nine-passenger van, but really, with car seats and all, twelve would be much more comfortable. It
’
s what my sister Allie had, and I think
--
”
She sniffed and tried to continue her explanation.

Zeke cleared his throat and interrupted,
“
Ma
’
am, I see you need the van. I understand you ha
ve the money, but
hon
,
we don
’
t have one that size, unless you want that shiny new one out there, and it has all that fancy, schmancy stuff you said you don
’
t want. Mighty wise financial decision, I might add.
”

He paused and smiled at Aggie, who continued to fight tears.
“
Now, sweetie, we can get you a twelve-passenger van here in a week, at the most two, but I
’
d suggest, if you want cargo space for grocery shopping and such, that you buy yourself a nice fifteen-passenger vehicle. If we take out that back seat, you
’
d have lots of room for storing things. Now, if you need one before next week, and it sounds like you do, I
’
d suggest you shop in Rockland. There are more options in the city, and I see why you need one quickly.
”

The retired farmer-turned-used-car-salesman chuckled and snapped his suspenders against his chest.
“
But as for the school problem, maybe you could just teach those children at home for the rest of the year; that way, you don
’
t even need to go anywhere for a while. It might work until you get a van anyway. Just tell them to bring their schoolbooks home, and then keep them going on their lessons until you get transportation at the least.
”

“
I was trying to avoid Rockland. I actually live there now, but it
’
s so overwhelming. If you find something, will you call? I
’
d rather wait for you, I think. At least you don
’
t seem ready to talk me into something I don
’
t want.
”
She stood to leave, offering her hand.

Zeke walked to the door and opened it for her.
“
I
’
ll be calling you when we get you a good one, and who knows, maybe it can be here before next Friday.
”

Aggie gave a half-hearted smile and thanked Zeke for his time. She gathered her purse and moved toward the door in a slight daze. As she left his office, Zeke shook his head, and the corners of his mouth turned up in his trademark grin. Zeke Sullivan was quite impressed with Aggie
’
s determination. Her unique combination of grit and delicate femininity was a rare and lovely sight.

Zeke
’
s words,
“
Just teach those children at home,
”
played repeatedly in Aggie
’
s mind as she started her little car and turned toward home. Before her sister
’
s death, she
’
d intended to begin teaching the following fall. If she could teach a class of twenty to thirty children, surely she could teach five. Even if only for the last quarter of this school year, it might be a lifesaver.

Her education philosophy classes had debated whether the home schooling movement was a good thing. Aggie defended home education with the argument,
“
The proof is in the pudding.
”
She now thought that home schooling might just be an answer to prayer, but she was clueless as to where to begin.

With those thoughts bouncing around in her brain, Aggie returned to find the older children home from school and diligently working on their homework, while their grandmotherly babysitter entertained the little ones. Five-year-old Kenzie carefully printed one-syllable words and colored matching pictures, while eight-year-old Elspeth hovered over a science worksheet. Elspeth
’
s introverted twin, Tavish, was nowhere in sight.
“
Hey, guys, where is Tavish?
”

The children rushed at her, as if she was an ice cream truck on a hot summer day. It seemed to Aggie that they acted as though she
’
d been gone for days. She hugged everyone as she tried to calm the mini-riot on her hands. She
’
d noticed that children tended to be overly enthusiastic with their greetings, but this seemed even more extreme than usual.

Mrs. Gansky, Allie
’
s faithful babysitter, smiled and whispered to Aggie as she retrieved her purse from the hall table,
“
They aren
’
t used to you leaving yet, and the last time that someone they loved left…
”