There was no way Ransom could not take offense to Valen's comment; even if he could brush off the insult to himself, his own father had provided for his family as nothing more than a mechanic. It was a humble profession, good enough even if not always enough, and he couldn't stand the idea of anyone thinking otherwise. While he generally didn't have much of a temper to speak of, Valen was doing a good job at pulling it out of him.
"I intend to do something that lets me provide for a family someday," Ransom said, his stomach in knots, upside-down and sideways as the thunder rolled through again. "I-If that turns out to be a mechanic, then I'll... I'll make it work. My father did."
That wasn't the wording he wanted to use, but he couldn't seem to think of a more eloquent way to say it. He couldn't think at all, really, though Charlotte's response was bold enough to distract him from the storm momentarily. He wasn't pleased by Valen's questions, but he'd never have argued with the man. Ransom saw him as a necessary evil to being with Charlotte, since his disapproval of their relationship could make things very difficult. Uncomfortable with the situation, Ransom tried to sit quietly and not slink beneath the table to hide from the storm.