A few days later when Ava and Vivian were driving by, Ava commented that they could buy one of those large tires for their camper. Vivian - our city-slicker crossfit-gym girl - promptly replied "Those tires are not for cars or campers. They are for working out."
We met Mel Harmon - a jolly old fat sweaty man who knew tires. Nicolle had to re-introduce herself as their neighbor when she was in high school. Mel quickly recalled that Nicolle had ridden a mini-motorbike into his garage door and had broken it back then, and the price of her camper tire had suddenly gone up. Once Mel knew who Nicolle was, we couldn't shut him up or discuss tires. The high school, the new football field, the new weight room, who Mel was lobbying for to be inducted into the Wall of Fame, the scholarship fund, his 50th class reunion and how they floated the 16-gallon keg, and so on and so forth.
Then Nicolle introduced me as her brother-in-law. That stopped Mel mid-sentence. His got this far-away look on his face while he tried to place me. Then he said "I guess you're not from around here". I nodded my agreement. And then his eyes brightened up. "You from Puerto Rico or something?"
That afternoon Jo and I came back to pick up the Subaru (Mel's special treatment - fixed a leak, balanced, filled with nitrogen, computer-rotated - four tires for $87). Mel took us back into the shop to meet his son who was Jo's neighbor and friend when she was in first grade. If life had been a little different, she could have been Mrs Troy Harmon. Instead here she was with some Puerto Rican.
ps. I added this picture to this post at a later date. It's why Vivian things big tires are for working out. The woman on the right is Jen.
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