by TR Nowry
Chapter 10
Gina picked him up at the gate of the fenced in, ritzy beach community. He sat in the passenger-side seat, smelling of pine and lemons, as they silently drove home. Awkward silence surrounded them as the windows rattled while she spun down the road. Her radio had never worked, but living in an always noisy and crowded home, she cherished the silence and never thought of fixing it.
He felt compelled to say something. His days were spent cleaning other peoples' homes, often with no one to talk to, much like his silence in the bowels of the behemoth. But he fought the urge and relaxed back into the faded bucket seat.
"You have time to stop by the bank?" he asked, remembering the check in his pocket.
She looked at her watch. "No, I'm almost late as it is. I'll have to drive straight to the bar, and you'll have to drive it home. Remember, I get off at 1 AM." She looked at him, then back at the road in time to speed around another sharp turn.
"No problem." He tried to be quiet again.
He fought the urge to kiss her or hug her before she hurried into the bar. She limited public displays to holding hands, and even then she was visibly uncomfortable when it went past a few minutes. The same rules seemed to apply in parkinglots and in front of her family as well.
But that didn't mean he couldn't do anything. He waved and smiled as he waited for her to get inside, then took his position behind the wheel. He sat a few minutes, just in case she had forgotten something, while he checked behind the seats for her purse, then started the car and headed home, with a slight detour by the bank.
Money was very tight, much tighter than Gina had let on. They were perpetually late with the rent and just managed to keep a week ahead of having a random utility shut off. He surrendered most of his check to Gina's mother, who promptly took the car and sped off to keep ahead of another cutoff date.
He showered while nobody was home, then fell asleep on Gina's bed.
Bzzzz!!
He sat up, then smacked the alarm. 11:30 PM.
Gina needed to be picked up in about an hour, but he had to kill some time first. Nathan was blaring music from the other room while carrying on a conversation with friends, but it wasn't too distracting. Jason hadn't acclimated to his new schedule yet, but the melatonin was helping with that.
He left for the bathroom, then the kitchen.
Pulling some leftover pasta from the fridge, he looked for a plate to put it on.
Nothing. All dirty and piled in the sink, as usual.
Still soaking in cold water, Makayla had obviously started to do them, but had been interrupted. Fishing for the plug, he let it drain while adding hot from the tap back in, then, much like on his day job, he started cleaning them while the paste reheated in the microwave.
His first few days on the job were the worst. He had been timid about doing 'woman's work'. Sure, give him a deep carpet shampooer or a steam cleaner and let him go to town, but scrubbing toilets, showers, and dishes. . . that just seemed on the other side of the macho line. But, that was the job. Those tasks were the least liked by everyone, and the first he had been given. Entry level.
He rinsed the first plate, then put it in the rack to dry.
Dishes were probably the easiest of his jobs. Half the homes had automatic dishwashers anyway, and in those that didn't, the tenants tended to clean them before they left. Unfortunately for him, it didn't matter if the previous tenants cleaned them or not, he still had to wash them again. But, cleaning clean dishes was far easier than what vacationing frat boys left. Sometimes it looked like they tried to cook a plastic GI-JOE in a frying pan.
Some almost needed plastic sheets for the beds. That was the more disturbing part of cleaning vacation homes. The woman he most often worked with, Maria, used a spray-on scotch guard to protect the mattresses in her assigned homes. It worked wonders on the furniture too.
But already once this week they had to use the steam cleaner designed for carpets on a mattress to remove what everyone hoped was a wine stain.
Ding!
The reheated pasta was ready. He drained the water out of the sink before sitting at the table to eat.
Gina's home life could be called chaotic, but Makayla did remarkably well for a single mom. They rarely had more than one car, and had long learned the art of coordinating the travels of multiple people across days and weeks, often without incidents. They rarely had anything new, but all their secondhand items were well cared for and as nice as they could be. Furniture didn't match, not even within the same room, but each piece was in fine working condition. The plates seemed assembled from the remnants of three different sets, yet had no cracks or chips among them.
He always felt comfortable around her family. Overall, it was amazing that Gina drank as little as she did. Makayla was rarely seen without a drink in her hand, and none of her kids remembered seeing her without one. The Ex and most of the men Makayla dated drank heavily too, that just seemed to be the circles she traveled in.
Glasses often accumulated by the mother's bed or were scattered throughout the apartment, but he rarely tried to hunt them down. Since he did more than his share of dishes, he almost always had a clean one, after a fashion of course.
From the kitchen he heard the door open and the rustle of bags, but he continued eating his meal.
Makayla had come in through the front door with two arms of groceries, headed for the kitchen. "Steven," she said in the living room as she handed Ava's boyfriend both bags and aiming him at the kitchen, "you dropping my little girl off, or picking up?"
"Dropping off," he said, bashfully, "she wanted to see the last showing of that—"
But Makayla just pushed him toward the kitchen while she poured herself a finger of Scotch. "Drop them off too, while you're at it."
Steven walked in as Jason was finishing up his pasta. "I'll put them away," Jason said, knowing where most of it was going.
Steven waited, a bit puzzled now that he had nothing to do. "Where's Gina?"
Jason checked his watch, "Still at work." He sorted cans as he filled the cabinet under the microwave, then put the cereal on the shelf by the refrigerator. "Why aren't you with Ava in her room?"
"Well, she. . . uh, well—"
Jason had known that Ava was just about done with Steven. The only one at the house who didn't know was the boy he had just asked. "So, what was the movie about?"
"Oh, uh, it was that Will Smith one that everyone was raving about. It didn't have enough action in it for me. You know, sure, he's got some acting chops but, that ain't enough to hold my interest. No car wrecks, no car chases, no gun fights, Hell, I don't even think I ever saw him run!"
"Chick flick?" Jason said, folding up the empty bags and putting them away.
"Total."
It was sad that Steven didn't know what was coming his way. He wasn't a bad guy, he just wasn't what Ava was looking for, right now. A chill ran through him. What if Gina was breaking up with him, too? Would he know, or would he be this clueless too? Gina's normal persona was cool and a little distant, that would make it especially hard to tell.
"Hey uh, you worked on the behemoth, right?" Steven said sitting down.
"Yeah, that's right, but not anymore."
"What, uh, what happened?"
"Well, my contract was over, and they didn't want to renew. Technically, it was a layoff, not fired, but the results was the same."
Steven looked toward the living room where Makayla was settling down to some TV. He pulled the chair closer. "High pay?"
"Oh, it was nice for what little I did. I just sat in a sauna-like room and babysat some gauges. Can't get any better than that. But, high pay? Not exactly. It had perks, though. Free room and board, discount meals. They rented a room on the mainland for our week off. All that was nice. It really insulated us from the high prices of everything on the island."
"Saw in the news that they were gearing up to make one or two a year, now that the legal stuff was cleared up."
"Y
eah, well, I mean, they kinda had to. It's a boat, it can go anywhere, sell, or uh, pay taxes in any country they wanted. Mind you, the chemistry of Hawaii lava seemed prefect, but all they need is an active, steady flow, without risking an eruption."
"Well, it's getting very fashionable among the billionaires' club. That first one is already decked out and working right now off of North Carolina. They say they charge fifty thousand a night to rent out one of the conference rooms, plus rooms and amenities. Saw a helicopter tour of the topside, looks like a cross between a golf course and the Garden of Eden."
Jason smiled, but checked his watch. "Yeah, saw that too. Said they were going to keep it within a hundred miles from shore until the weather starts to turn, then head south to Brazil. The CEO, what was his—"
"Arkolo Handstone, I think—"
"That's right, they have several manufacturing sites in Brazil and in the Carolinas. Still a little foggy on just what it is they build."
"They said, but I can't remember either."
Ava walked into the kitchen, went straight past Steven and opened the fridge. "You ought to be getting home now, shouldn't you?" she smiled at Steven as he quietly got up and headed out.
He knew, on some level.
Jason checked his watch again, then left to pick up Gina. He planned to be early this time.
