Page 91 of The Reason I Married Him
“You really got me a hat,”I say to Rodney as he stares up at me with the biggest eyes I’ve ever seen, glee and hope beaming from them.
“I did. Do you like it?” he asks.
I take in the plain black hat with a white stitched number on the front in a Times New Roman font. The number is simple: 576. That’s it. That’s all that’s on the hat. I don’t think anyone outside of the train community would know what this number means. But from the look in Rodney’s eyes, he knows.
Smiling, I say, “Love it, but remind me what this number means?”
He takes the hat from me and runs his finger over the tight stitching, saying, “Engine 576, the one remaining J3 in the country. Located now in Nashville under preservation, this mighty engine was one of thousands and once carried freightand troops during World War II. It was one of the last J3s to have yellow skirting, giving it the nickname the yellow jacket. In 1952, due to dieselization, all of the other J3s were scrapped, but the 576 lived on in memory and history.”
Oh.
Wow.
Okay. I see what we’re dealing with here.
I pull on the back of my neck as Rodney hands me the hat back. “That’s incredible, Rodney.”
“I was surprised to see the engine number at the expo, but representatives from Nashville were there selling model kits with 576, and I just knew I had to grab you a hat.”
“That was really kind of you. Thank you. Would you say this is one of your favorite engines?”
He nods. “I love the yellow skirting. Would you like to see the pictures I took of the pictures they had on display?”
Boy, do I love pictures of pictures.
“Would love it,” I say just as the door to the railroad museum opens. I look up to find Hayes walking in. I nod at him. “Hey, man.”
“Hey,” he says. “What’s up, Rodney?”
“Busy,” he says as he taps away on his phone with one single finger, you know, the way old people do it.
“Look at this hat Rodney bought me.” I hold up the engine hat, and Hayes smirks.
“That’s awesome,” he says, clearly not believing it.
I adjust the back of the hat and then slip it on, showing off my new headwear. “Fits like a glove, Rodney.”
“Aha!” Rodney says as he flashes his phone screen toward me. “See the yellow skirting?”
“Oh yeah, look at that. Wow, slick engine.”
Rodney brings the phone back to himself so he can stare down at the picture as well. “What a masterful design with thebullet nose.” He sighs and then looks up at Hayes. “I got you a hat as well.”
“You did?” Hayes asks. “Wow, you didn’t have to do that.”
“They were buy two, get one free. I thought we could be the three musketeers with our hats.” He walks over to his counter and grabs two more hats, all with the same 576 stitching on the front. “Here you are.”
He hands Hayes the hat, and he puts it on. As does Rodney.
Together, we stand in the middle of a railroad museum, wearing our matching hats with a beaming owner—he’s so proud of himself.
“Wow,” Rodney says, clutching his hands together. “We look great.”
I inwardly chuckle. “So great that I’d love to take a picture of all of us.” I pull out my phone and turn it to selfie mode. Hayes and I huddle with Rodney in the middle, who’s at least a foot shorter than us, and together, we smile.
Rodney smiles so big that his eyes are closed.
What a cute old man.
