The Junkyard Boys by SH Richardson Page A

Scarlett O’Hara when Rhett Butler kissed her soundly and declared, “You should be kissed and often and by someone that knows how.” Well, Range Reardon certainly knew how.
    Deciding it was time to stop fantasizing and get my day started before Range arrived to take me to the junkyard, I trotted down to the kitchen in my pajamas in search of breakfast. Once again, I could hear my mother and sisters talking excitedly about whatever the topic of discussion was this morning. Whether it was fashion or the latest date one of them had last night. Oh boy, this was going to be fun.
    Peeking around the corner, I spotted Denny in his usual spot on the couch, reading his newspaper, so I decided to forgo my morning greeting. When I stepped into the kitchen, their conversation seemed to stop once they all noticed I was standing there. They were sitting at the kitchen table with their heads down, speaking to each other like they just discovered where Jimmy Hoffa was buried. My sister Shelly was the first to speak after clearing her throat.
    “Morning, M&M, glad you decided to join us this morning.”
    I looked at the clock and noticed it was a little after eleven. I guessed I was running later than usual, but nothing out of the ordinary I would say. I was trying to figure out if her statement had a double meaning or something when she decided to let me off the hook.
    “Couldn’t help but notice that fine hunk of a man that’s been walking you home for the past two weeks. I was on my way out when I was assaulted by that killer lip lock he put on you right before you came in. I must say, I was really surprised.”
    Ashley and my mom were looking at me expectantly, as if I were ever going to share anything with them. I shrugged my shoulders and headed for the coffee pot, not willing to give them any information on my relationship with Range. He was special to me, and I certainly didn’t want them to start making fun of me right before our first date. They could tease me all they wanted about anything else, but not about him. He was off-limits when it came to their cruel and hateful words.
    “Look, we just want to know who he is, just in case we need to check him out or something. He could be some sort of serial killer or something.”
    I had to laugh at that one, considering I had thought the same thing. But Range was nothing of the sort. He was kind and gentle and determined to make his own way. He worked hard every single day at that junkyard and wouldn’t accept praise for his efforts. My refusal to ride in his truck was initially because I didn’t know him well enough, but now that I did, I preferred our walks in the evening with the cool breeze blowing in our faces and time alone to the quick drop-off and the confines of a truck cab. I’d learned more about Range during these walks than I ever thought possible, and in turn he had learned about me. My likes and dislikes, my penchant for old movies, my time spent alone and lonely. He never judged my preference to being alone instead of going out and was not put off by my mediocre existence.
    The one thing I didn’t want was for them to get the wrong idea about Range. I didn’t know why, but their perception of him was important to me, and I planned to protect it.
    “Look, he’s not a serial killer, ok? His name is Range and he’s coming this afternoon to take me out on a date. Before you start with the jokes, just save it, because I don’t want to hear it.” Shelly perked up from her seat at the kitchen table, clapping her hands like a fool. I had no idea what was going on with her.
    “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! I only know of one Range and that’s Range Reardon. Please tell me that fine piece of ass I saw you with is him.”
    “Watch your mouth, Shelly, you know I hate that kind of talk in my house.” My mother was not in the mood either judging by the way she scolded my sister and swatted her with a dishtowel. Shelly was rubbing her arm in protest and started