I looked-down at my phone, at a text message which had just arrived from my 19 year-old niece Lisa. "There's something wrong with her truck". I told my wife flatly before I had even read the message. After all that seemed to be the only time I ever heard from Lisa was when there was something wrong with the old Ford Bronco I had bought her a year or so previously. I knew she's busy and that she truly appreciated the truck so I don't really mind, Lisa is (for the most part) a good kid who goes to school full-time and works every weekend it seems so I don't mind helping her out.
Sure enough the text was about her truck. She said it was making a loud squealing noise when she started it up. I guessed the fan belt needed to be replaced and I knew the truck was close to needing service anyway so I told her to bring it out when she had a chance and I'd take a look at it. Lisa replied that she was working an early shift Saturday and had the rest of the weekend free. My wife then reminded me that she and her Sister (Lisa's mother) would be gone this weekend to visit a friend who lived several hours away. So this would be a good weekend for me to work on the truck.
I texted Lisa and told her Saturday would be fine. I told her she could drop the truck off and I'd let her take mine hers was fixed later in the day. She replied that she wanted to stay and work on it with me since it was an older truck and she wanted to know how to fix it when it breaks-down. She had helped me do oil changes and a brake job once or twice before so I told her that would be fine, although I knew that working alone I'd have the truck done in a couple of hours however it's hard to say no to a 19 year old with perky tits, a skinny waist, blonde hair and deep blue eyes you could get lost in. Suddenly working on an old Bronco sounded like more fun than I had imagined.
A couple of days later, right at noon I watched Lisa park her Ford Bronco in front of my garage. We exchanged pleasantries as I checked a few things then Lisa asked where the coverall's she's worn before when she's helped me work on her truck were.
"You don't have to help me. Just take my truck and come back in a couple of hours." I told her.
"No, I want to...I mean it's all stuff I should know how to do anyways right? Besides, I never get to see you." She added
I couldn't argue with that. As I said it seemed the only time I saw her was when there was something wrong with her truck or she was broken-up with whatever boy she was dating at the time. What was wrong with the truck didn't appear to be very serious so I surmised this visit must have something to do with some pimply-faced adolescent.
"How's everything with you and Ken?" I asked her. As soon as I said it I could see tears starting to form in her eyes. A moment later she burst into tears and gave me a tight hug.
"He left me for some girl he met on-line on the east coast. I guess she got him a job and everything so he just up and left. Just like that." She said through deep sobs.