Right Down the Line Pt. 03

"I'm happy for you Cliff. You've done well for yourself. The girl you married is wonderful, never let her go, or feel unloved. I have one request. That you make sure I get to meet and hold every one of your babies. I love you son, Mom."

We could have spent that money on vehicles and a variety of other things we really didn't need. Instead we socked it away in savings. My hours at the store were being reduced dramatically. I was helping Cliff on all the evening and weekend jobs. Trimming the branches to be cut into firewood, loading the trailer and running the Bobcat. The tree business had picked up enough to completely pay off the pickup truck and the Bobcat accessories. We were debt free by early March.

Little did we know how being debt free was going to enhance our tree business. In late March we received an offer to bid a job in a town seven miles away removing all the diseased Elm trees along the Main Street of their town. With our noses to the grindstone three nights in a row researching we reached an agreement on what we needed to charge and sent the bid. A week later it was down to ours and one other bid. A bid less than half of what anyone else had offered. It didn't take the city fathers long to figure out it was a new startup that didn't even own a bucket truck.

On the day we received notification that our bid had been accepted and the proposed payment schedule I gave Dad my two-week notice. He grinned.

"Get yer skinny butt outa here. I don't need a notice. I've got people waiting to take your spot."

Cliff gave his notice the following week which would give us a week in between him being finished and us starting the job. The first week was hard. I wasn't used to eight hours of working hard. When we were two thirds finished with the contract the city asked us to remove another bunch of Elms at the city park. It was late July when we removed the last tree. As for the fifty grand. We used some of it for repairs on existing equipment and to upgrade the Bobcat to a newer more powerful model.

We had made the equivalent of a year's combined pay at the store and dealership in a matter of four and a half months. With jobs lined up to take us through until the holidays. Our Christmas gift to my folks and his mom that year was an announcement that we were pregnant. Knowing that my days in the Bobcat or bucket truck were limited, Cliff hired a guy full time that had recently been released from jail and was working with us part time. A huge hulk of guy named Raul and strong as an ox.

Interestingly enough he and his fiancé moved into our old apartment the weekend we moved into a larger home on the edge of town not far from Mama and Daddy. A nice three-bedroom ranch on three acres and an outbuilding big enough to house our equipment. With an option to buy in two years we were fairly confident this would be our home for a while.

Darrel and Becca were married that Spring. The baby bump on Becca was just beginning to show, but like Mama says, "The second one always takes nine months."

Our little boy was named Frank, after his gramps. Everyone calls him Little Frank. The girl that followed is named Priscilla, and the boy following her we named Gabriel. After each child we flew to Vegas for a weekend with Cliff's Mom. His Dad lost two election bids for State Representative, he never saw any of our kids, which we considered his loss.

These days I spend at home with our three kids and one in the oven. We bought the three-bedroom ranch place. After adding two more bedrooms and another bath it fit our family and business perfectly. Little Frank is already talking about when he's big enough to help Dad.

As for Mom and Dad. Darrel and Becca have taken over the day-to-day operations of the store. Dad's beginning to lose a little hair as it grays. A few weeks ago after having Sunday dinner at Mula and Bop's, (what all the kids call my folks) Little Frank was behind Dad and made a comment.

"Bop. Did you know you're going bald? There's a hole in your hair."

Mother never missed a beat with her answer, "Your grandpa's hormones have better things to do than grow hair Little Frank."

Those two. Still horny after all these years.

I would be remiss to not give a shout out to my proofreader. He not only helps with grammar and spelling, he lets me write my own story. You know who you are, and so do you Phil. Thank you.