They entered the tent. Up close, the machine had chrome accents and colorful buttons. Frankie and Charlie exchanged excited glances.
“Hi there.” A vendor in a Fresno Flying Squirrels baseball cap, T-shirt, and jeans approached. He appeared to be in his mid-forties. “I see this little baby seems to have caught your eye.”
“Yes, sir. It has,” Charlie said.
The vendor leaned over and turned on the power strip connected to a generator. The jukebox buzzed to life. “This belonged to my gramps. It used to sit up in his office at the Lucky Dog Diner over on Tenth Street. It’s in pristine condition and still has all its original records.”
Charlie rubbed his hands together. “My nan wouldlovethis. There’s a spot in the living room near her bookcases where it would fit perfectly. I can see her dancing around, enjoying a glass of wine to the Bee Gees or Elvis when no one is home.”
Behind them, Frankie could see a few other people taking note of the jukebox. They had to snag this for his grandmother. Jumping in, she asked, “How much are you asking for it?”
The vendor eyed them, then returned his gaze to the machine. “Why don’t you tell me how much you’re willing to pay for it?”
Frankie watched Charlie reach into the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve his wallet. Opening it, he glanced inside the cash section. “I can do two hundred in cash and eight hundred on my credit card.”
The vendor’s face fell. “That’s a lot lower than I’d hoped to get for it.”
Charlie frowned. “You asked us to make you an offer. What figure were you thinking?”
Frankie did some quick mental math. “I can throw in two hundred on my credit card.”
Charlie sucked in air sharply. “Frankie, that’s a lot.”
She placed her hand on his. “It’s for a good cause.”
Technically speaking, it was a lot more than she could afford, but no one needed to know that. She’d have a month or two to pay her credit card balance down.
A couple listening in to the conversation approached the vendor’s left-hand side. They threw out their own offer. “This is probably worth about five grand. We’ll give you four grand for it.”
Charlie’s jaw clenched. “I can do two grand now and three grand next week.”
“We’ll do fifty-five hundred.”
“I’ll do—”
“Charlie, remember what you told me when you walked in?” Frankie interrupted him. “Stick to your budget. Don’t get sucked into a bidding war.”
She watched his shoulders deflate. “You’re right. Nan would kill me.” He turned to the vendor. “The best I can do is two grand. Otherwise, you can give it to them.”
She squeezed his hand.
The man stroked his chin. “Credit cards charge me a three percent transaction fee every time.” He faced Charlie. “Cash is still king to me. If you give me your two hundred bucks cash, and eight hundred on your card, it’s yours.”
“Done.”
They shook hands.
Shrugging, the other couple left the tent.
Charlie handed his money to Frankie. “Would you mind double checking this is two hundred and helping with the transaction?” His big eyes pleaded with her. “Numbers . . . er . . . I have trouble reading them. . .”
“I’ve got your back.”
“Thank you,” he said softly to her. “Here’s my credit card. I’m just going to inspect Nan’s new toy.”
Frankie organized Charlie’s cash as he leaned forward to study the machine.
“Thank you. This means more to him than you know.” She handed the cash to the man.
