by Jenny Wood
“Gannon?” shit. It’s my mother. “Gannon? It’s Mom.”
“Hey, ma. How are you?” I ask, politely, hoping she’s staying positive. This rehab is costing me about seven grand for a sixty-day stint, though I’ve spent upwards of twenty grand to keep her in one of the nice ones, before. Back when I thought she was serious about battling this disease she’s been plagued with. It was a waste of money, they all are. I learned long ago that it is throwing it away because getting clean only lasts until she gets out.
“It’s hard, but I’m doing okay. How’s everything going with you?” she asks. It almost feels normal, but I know what’s coming. Her forty-five-day evaluation is coming up and her doctor is going to want to speak to me.
“Same ol’ same ol. Can’t complain," I answer, nonchalantly. I know better than to try to talk about anything going on with me, it gets too overwhelming for her. She needs to focus on herself right now.
“Good, darlin’. The doctor says I’m doing well. My blood pressure was a bit low the last couple of mornings, but the in-house physician says it’s to be expected with the medicines I’m on.”
“That’s good. Everything going okay? You need anything?” I ask, much like I do every time she calls.
“No, sweetheart. I’m just tired and wanted to hear your voice is all," I close my eyes and let her words wash over me. It’s been a long time since she’s said something so…motherly. Addiction is one hell of a disease, one that robs you of everything you love with no remorse. I stupidly cling to those words, it's so rare that I hear them.
“You okay?” is whispered in my ear as Shade’s strong hands come down and squeeze the tension from my neck and shoulders. I nod, clear my throat and ask mom what she has planned today. She’s only allowed a fifteen-minute phone call twice a week, so I let her talk until her time runs out. Shade brings me a cup of coffee and sits close beside me until I hang up. Then, without a word, he pulls me to his side and lets me lean against his arm until I’m done sulking.
“Working today?” I bump his shoulder with mine, looking at the clock that says it’s a quarter after nine. I should’ve been at the gym forever ago, but, I know that Shea opened this morning and got everything set up. I know that because she’s the world’s greatest receptionist and lobby attendant. And I know that Myles and Abel are working the floor as well as Nash coming in at noon for three back-to-back sessions. Being that it’s a Thursday, we shouldn’t be so busy that I’d need to be there. If it gets that way, one of them will call me.
“Yeah, I should be there now. I left Hudson and Myles to close up last night,” wiping his hands down his face, I can’t help but admire his veiny arms and gorgeous hands. I can still feel their strength on my neck and shoulders. I wish like hell he’d touch me like that everywhere.
“Hudson still giving you the heart eyes?” I tease, knowing that his newest hire wasn’t a day over twenty-three and has the hots for his boss.
“Don’t talk shit, he’s a good guy. Innocent as all hell, but a good guy. I was thinking of taking him out for a beer this weekend, helping him meet some people.” There are two ways I could go with that, but I am choosing not to think of it as a date between the two of them. Shade is only thirty-one, but when you put him beside Hudson, he might as well be a hundred and nine in experience alone.
“Mmhmm,”
“What? You jealous?” Shade asks, his stupid dimples making another appearance. I want to punch him in his gorgeous face.
“Yeah, can I have his number instead?” the smile falls from his lips and it’s my turn to laugh. He doesn’t seem to like that idea.
“I’ve got to go home and shower, try to get rid of this hangover. You wanna go to dad’s with me tomorrow night, talk to him about Brock?” he asks, getting up to take our cups to the sink.
“Do you want me to go to your dads with you to talk about Brock?” I ask, not wanting to impose. If he wanted me there, though, I’d go.
“I think he might not pressure me so much with you around, and I plan to tell him no," Shade shrugs, nonchalantly. He isn’t fooling me.
“Yeah, alright. Call me later?” he agrees and gives me a playful shove as he walks by me, heading straight out the door. I wish I would’ve grabbed him and shoved him against the wall in my kitchen and made a bigger mess of his rumpled and sexy clothes and hair. Deciding I need a cold shower and another mug of coffee, I find a morning playlist and try and forget that I’m in love with my best friend.
At least for today.
Shade
There isn’t enough coffee to get me through this day.
My neck is aching and I’m pretty sure I’ve got a rug burn on my ear from using Gannon’s hairy-ass legs as a pillow all night. Waking up hugging his legs wasn’t near as awkward as it should’ve been, but I am paying for it now. I squeeze the back of my neck with my fingers, trying and failing to find the fucking receipt I’d thrown on my desk at the start of the week.
I have stacks of papers on my desk that have been demanding my attention for weeks, and now that I need a specific one, there is no finding it in this mess. I have to do something about it sooner rather than later.
“Talon!” I stand in the doorway to my office and yell over the noise of the shop to get my shop manager, Talon’s, attention. Talon had come to me when I first opened the shop and was failing miserably to do everything on my own. He’d spent the better part of his twenties in and out of jail and really just needed a reason to stay on the right path. So, I took a chance on him. He’s never once let me down and he’s managed to keep himself out of trouble the last few years.
“What’s up?” he asks, wiping the grease from his hands on a towel that he shoves in his back pocket when he’s done.
“I need to get someone in here to sort through this shit. Weren’t you talkin’ yesterday, about somebody’s sister looking for a job?” It was probably unprofessional to ask, but putting an ad online, setting up interviews and then actually conducting those interviews, sounded like a pain in the ass. If I could find somebody who knew somebody, I wouldn’t even care if they had experience or not.
“Yeah, my buddy’s little sister, Shelly," Talon pulls out his phone and shoots off a text. “She’s going to school part-time, would you be able to work around her schedule?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. I just need someone in here to organize and restore some order in here. I can’t find shit when I need it and everything’s just stacking up. Since McKenzie left, I kept tellin’ myself that I’d get someone in here to replace her, but I thought I could keep up on it myself," I huff. “I can’t.”
“Can she come in and talk to you tonight? Now, actually? She’s over at Teedman’s getting gravel for her granddaddy," I give him the go-ahead and he tells me she’ll be here within the hour. I thank him and then go attempt to straighten things up a bit, as to not scare the poor girl off before she has a chance to get started.
True to her word, she’s here within the hour and I meet her in the lobby, though she isn’t alone like I expected. Settled on her hip is the cutest little overall-wearing, blonde-headed boy I’ve ever seen. She’s harried and looks frazzled as she comes in, but introduces herself right away.
“Hi, I’m Michelle, - Shelly,” she shrugs, reaching out and shaking my offered hand. “I’m so sorry, I thought I could get my mama to watch Brody, here, but when I dropped by her house, I’d just missed her. I’ve got some toys here for him though, he should be okay if you want to chat some. If not, I understand, but I do have a steady babysitter for days I can work and go to school. And I’ve worked in an office before, though not one with cars and parts and broken stuff. Do I need to know what things are?” she finally pauses long enough for me to introduce myself back.
“I’m Shade Mayson, thanks for coming in," she nods, quickly. “Why don’t you and Brody come on into my office and we can go over what I’m looking for and see if it’s something you’d be okay with," I open the door to the office, having closed it so nobody would
see the state of disarray my desk is in.
“I’m gonna be real honest, here, Mr. Mayson. I need a job. I’m fresh out of a divorce and I’ve got a two-year-old I’m tryin’ like hell to take care of on my own – though I do have help from my parents and my big brother– I’m tryin’ to get on my feet and make our own way. I go to school part-time, but it’s mostly online. I can be here every day, even if only a few hours at a time," she explains in a hurry.
“Have a seat," I offer and she sits, bringing the little boy to her lap, where he’s making it loudly clear that it’s not at all where he wants to be. She adjusts as he climbs and slaps and pulls on her hair, her clothes and the glasses she’s trying to keep away from him. I can’t help but smile at the picture they make. I don’t often think about having kids of my own, but just like puppies, when you are around one, you start getting ideas.
“I’m gonna be real honest back,” I say to her, pulling the stack of papers from the corner of my desk and let them fall with a thump. “I’m a mess with zero organization. I work out there, not in here. If you’re willing to give me a shot and don’t run off at the sight of all this mess, I’ll give you a shot too.”
“That sounds like a really good idea to me,” she answers with a smile, the relief clear in her voice
“Ma!” Brody says, slapping her face as he stands in her lap.
“Hey, don’t smack. Turn around here and thank Mr. Mayson for givin’ mama a job," We both smile as the little guy squeals unhappily as his mom tries to subdue him in her lap once again.
“Please, call me, Shade,” I offer, “and I’ll let you get that boy out of this ol’ smelly garage. If you want, you can come in tomorrow and we’ll get started from there. Sound good?”
“I can be here at eight. My classes are on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday, though I try to get them finished up by three. Is that okay?”
“Yep. I’ll see you in the morning and I’ll have an employment packet for you to fill out and we can go over wages, hours and tax information. All the fun stuff," I smile, thankful that something is going right today. I’m not so much hungover this morning, just tired and sore from sleeping on Gannon’s couch. Still, I needed something to go right today.
The rest of the day is spent catching up. We generally take orders on a first come first serve basis, but if something is an easy fix, we slide it in to get it out quicker. Hudson is not only the youngest, but he’s also the new guy, so he often gets stuck with the easy jobs; oil changes, tire rotations, minor fixes, like belts or plugs that need changing. Mostly things that wouldn’t take any time at all. Lucky for Talon and me, he’s fast and efficient and doesn’t seem to mind the grunt work.
So, while Talon is elbow-deep in a fucked-up transmission and Hudson is replacing a busted radiator hose, I pull the RB Supreme into the lot and make a mental note to call my buddy, Kenny, to let him know that mother of all miracles, Hudson got the damn thing going again.
A little after lunchtime, when the guys and I ordered sandwiches from Bailey’s, I notice Hudson shifting from foot to foot in the doorway of my office. Wanting the distraction so I don’t have to try and figure out what’s old and what is new with these order slips, I’m all too happy for the interruption.
“What’s up?” I ask, noticing now that he’s not just shifting, he’s nervous. More nervous than his usual nervous, that is. Hudson has a unique past that he doesn’t often talk about. Because I’m his employer and he has an anxiety disorder and PTSD from said past, he’d only explained minute details of triggers and treatments in case he should have an anxiety attack or something of the like while he’s at work. For his safety and ours, I needed to know. Thankfully, he’s never had an attack, though, his anxiety does get the better of him sometimes and he takes a long break to clear his head. “Everything okay?”
“Zachary Collins is here, he has a question about a bike,” Hudson says, looking everywhere but at me.
“Okay, did he say something to you or something? Make you uncomfortable?” I question. Zach and I knew each other because our fathers work together and I’d seen him at more than one company picnic over the years. Plus, in a town this size, you’ve had to have seen everybody at least once, at some point or another. As far as I knew, he was born and raised here in Madison, and was around my age, though we ran in different crowds. If I remember correctly, he’s a year or two younger than me.
“No, just… no. He’s waiting in the lobby for you," Hudson says, turning and walking away before he even finishes talking. Deciding to ask Zach what the deal with that is, I find him in the lobby looking concerned.
“Hey, man, is he okay? I think I spooked him, though I don’t know how," Zach comments, watching the door I just walked through like he’s waiting for Hudson to come back too.
“Yeah, he’s fine. What brings you by?” I question, deciding it was unlikely he threatened Hudson or something worse. He looks like he’s seconds away from walking back into the garage and finding him, himself.
“My bike isn’t shifting right, it feels off. I wanted to bring it in early, in case it’s something I could make worse by ignoring it," he chuckles, pointing over his shoulder to his bike that’s parked right out front.
“Could just need the gearbox lubricated, but I can take a look," I offer, knowing that Hudson would probably know better than I would, what was wrong, but I’m not going to call him out here to look. If it is a problem that needed fixing, he can do it inside without Zach hanging around. Hudson has his older brother’s bike that he’s been playing around with since he was overseas with the Navy. The way he reads manuals and watches internet videos on things like that, that interest him, he probably knows more than Talon or I, either one.
“That’d be great, thanks,” he says, sort of woodenly. Zach has always seemed a little … brash, from what I remember. He’s self-assured, confident and has this air about him that somehow highlights his assertiveness.
After taking a quick ride around the lot, with Zach’s permission, I establish that since nothing’s leaking and the problem is subtle enough to not be obvious on every shift, we decide to have him leave it for Hudson to take a look at, and to call in sometime in the next couple of days to check-in. I let him know that we have a few things that need our attention before his, and he’s easily agreeable and understanding. After getting his number should we have any problems and one last look to the closed garage door, Zach thanks me with a handshake and leaves.
“I can look it over, it sounds as though it’s idling a little high,” Hudson says, the minute I step through the door.
“Shifting feels off like it wants to downshift when you pinch the clutch. It’s subtle though, not real noticeable just yet," I inform him, handing him the keys. “You sure he didn’t make you uncomfortable or something?” I ask, watching as his shoulders bunch up around his ears in a tight shrug.
“It’s been a long time," he tries to brush me off, but I’m curious and would be pissed if Zach had done something out of the way to one of my employees, Hudson especially.
“What’s been a long time?” Talon must’ve noticed his unease and joined us.
“Just high school stuff, it’s not a big deal. Just let me look at it, it’s probably an easy fix," Hudson says, going to his toolbox and rummaging through until he finds what he needs.
“Did he hurt you?” Talon asks softly, moving closer to Hudson as if to shield him. One thing I’ve noticed about Talon since meeting him is that he’s incredibly protective of anyone who looks as if they might need it. I’d once seen him knock a guy out in the toy aisle at Walmart for slapping his own child. I can even say that the kid deserved it, with the temper tantrum we’d both heard from four aisles away. Talon didn’t seem to think so.
“He didn’t hurt me, his brother was a bully. I had problems with him. Unfortunately, like most bullies, they’re good manipulators, so, when I ran into him and Zachary at Marlo’s a couple weeks after Landry had gotten suspended because of me, Zachary told me to sto
p picking on his brother or else… It embarrassed me and scared me because I knew that Landry wasn’t going to stop and it was hard telling what he’d tell Zachary. Anyway, you guys know I get anxious and in my head, and then when I got home that night, things got worse for me. Seeing him just makes me anxious because that day is a day I’d rather not remember at all," Talon’s face is set in a pissed-off grimace and Hudson’s cheeks are glowing red.
“Alright, we can’t cut his break-lines because I don’t want to go to prison, but, maybe we can put hot pink valve caps on and have Talon glue them or something,” I suggest, relaxing a bit when I see Talon lose the tense look and attempt to hide his small smile, and Hudson snort in amusement.
“If you don’t feel comfortable working on it, I’ll do it; and if seeing him bothers you, I’ll call him up while you’re at lunch or something. Just let me know, alright? I don’t want you uncomfortable here and you don’t ever have to deal with someone you don’t feel comfortable around.” Hudson nods in understanding and Talon nods his approval before sauntering back to his bay to finish up.
By the time we’re closing up for the night, the rust bucket has been picked up, Talon has found someone to help around the shop, and Hudson has completely fixed the problem with the bike and even given it a tuneup. All in all, it is a productive day and I’ve all but forgotten about the upcoming drama with my brother and my reluctant meeting with my father tomorrow. Right or wrong, brother or not, I’m not as forgiving as Hudson seems to be. I can’t do it, even if it would’ve disappointed my mother. I’m not interested in helping Brock.
Plugging my phone up to charge that night, I find a text from Gannon that says he’ll meet me at my dad's at five. Sending him back a thumbs up, I fall into bed a little bitter that I won’t be wrapped around his legs again tonight.
Gannon
I hear the yelling before I even make it to the door. I’m running a little bit late because I’d taken a call from my mom just as I was leaving the gym. She’s having another hard day and needed to be encouraged and talked down a little. I can imagine that detoxing isn’t much fun and the first month or so of withdrawals are hell.
