"Cash," he says, plunking two hundreds and a ten on the counter. I put them in the register and give him the change. "Have a nice day, Mr. Turner."
"At least you got yourself a cute receptionist," he says, giving a smile and a wink to Skye as he leaves.
Skye looks at me, smiling. "I should get paid extra for that."
"For what?"
"Being cute," she says.
"I don't think so but nice try." I look up at the young mom who's staring at her phone. "Ms. Gallagher?"
"Yes?" she says, glancing up from her phone.
"It'll be about twenty more minutes on your car. I'm just finishing it up."
"Great!" She looks around. "Iris?" She quickly stands up, searching for her daughter. "Iris, where'd you go?"
"She's back here," Skye says as the mom comes around the counter. "I gave her stuff to color."
The mom sighs. "Sorry, I didn't see her wander off. I've been trying to answer emails from work and didn't even notice she was gone."
"Momma, look!" Iris holds up her pen. "Pink!"
"Yeah, I see that. Get up and come sit by mommy."
She shakes her head really fast. "No. Want to sit by Skye."
"It's fine," Skye says. "I don't mind."
The mom smiles. "Are you a college student?"
"Yeah. I'm in the graphic design program."
I leave the two of them to talk while I return to the garage. This will be good for Skye. She just about lost it when her aunt suggested she work here but I don't know why. It's an easy job and it gets her out of her apartment. I get the feeling she spends a lot of time in her room. When we talked the other night, she didn't mention any friends and she doesn't have a boyfriend. This auto shop isn't that exciting but at least she'll interact with some people instead of sitting in her room.
When I'm finished with the oil change on the woman's car, I return to the counter and find her still talking to Skye.
"All done," I tell her.
"Already?" She checks the time on her phone. "That twenty minutes went really fast. Iris, get up. It's time to go."
"Wanna stay with Skye," she whines.
"You can't. We have to go home." She picks her up off the floor.
"I'll ring you up over here." I walk to the register. "It's going to be $40.15 total."
She goes to get her wallet out of her purse but can't with a wiggling toddler.
"Would you mind taking her?" the mom asks Skye. "If I set her down, she'll run off. She always does that when I'm trying to leave."
"Um, okay." Skye reluctantly takes her.
"You have pretty hair," Iris says, pulling on it.
The mom hands me a credit card. "Thanks for getting it done so fast."
"No problem." I run her credit card and hand it back.
"Auto Fix takes all afternoon. I can't miss that much time from work." She puts her card back in her purse. "Ready, Iris?"
"Stay, Momma." She hugs Skye. "Stay with Skye."
Skye laughs. "I'm really not that fun."
The mom takes Iris from Skye. "We'll come see her another time, okay?"
"Okay." Iris waves at her. "Bye!"
"Bye!" Skye smiles, then says to the mom, "Bye, Shannon."
"Bye! Let me know about the cards.”
"I will."
“Cards?” I say when they're gone.
"She needs some business cards made and wants me to design them. She has a business on the side. She makes jewelry."
"Are you going to do it?"
"Probably not. I don't have time with school and now this."
"How long would it take?"
"Maybe an hour or two."
"You should do it."
"How much longer?" Mr. Anton calls out from his chair.
"About a half hour," I tell him. "Sorry for the delay. I'll get right on it."
"How much do you charge?" he asks as I'm leaving.
"Should be around what I estimated," I tell him.
"Not you. Her." He points to Skye. "How much do you charge for the graphic design?"
"Me?" Her eyes go from Mr. Anton to me then back to Mr. Anton. "Um, I don't really do it for a job. I'm just a student."
"But she's really good at design," I tell him. "Got a full scholarship for it."
"How much for a brochure?" he asks, walking to the counter.
I leave so they can talk. Sounds like Skye could have some freelance work if she wanted it. It'd be good for her. It's another thing that would distract her from the accident. I've found distraction to be one of many techniques to manage my grief. It doesn't make it go away but it gives you some relief so you're not constantly thinking about it.
At six, as I'm closing the door and locking up for the night, I say to Skye, "How was your first day?"
"Tiring. That little girl wore me out. I'm not used to being around kids."
"You seem to be a natural. She couldn't get enough of you."
"I'm not sure why. I didn't do anything special. She was just really bored and getting fussy and the old guy was getting annoyed. That's how the coloring started. It was a way to keep her busy."
"Seemed to work."
She glances around the waiting area. "You really need to get some kid stuff in here. There's nothing for kids to do while they wait. Could you maybe get some coloring books and crayons and maybe one of those little tables for kids? And some toys. A few toys would be good."
"Laney said the same thing. I've been meaning to do it. I just haven't had time. Maybe I could do it this weekend. You want to come with me?"
"You want me to shop with you?"
"It wouldn't take long. You might even have fun. Who doesn't like shopping for toys?"
"Do I get paid for it?"
"If you want to get paid to shop, then yes. I'll deduct the time from your total."
She pauses. "No. Forget it."
"You won't go with me?"
"I'll go, but you don't have to pay me."
"How about I buy you lunch as payment? Or dinner? You choose."
She smiles. "Deal. And while we're out, could we maybe shop for a cheap TV? The old guy's right. Waiting rooms always have TVs. Even if nobody watches it, it's good to just have it on. It's too quiet in here."
"Yes, we'll shop for a TV." I smile. "Anything else?"
"I don't know. I'll think about it."
"Well, you're free to go. Thanks for all your help today. You did a great job." I go through the door to the garage.
I usually work for a few hours after the customers leave. Or sometimes I'll go down the road to the bar and get a burger and maybe a beer. Sometimes I'm so tired I just go straight to bed.
My life has become boring and monotonous and not at all what I wanted, but it's what I need to do until I figure out what's next. As of now, I'm not ready to sell the place. And I'm not ready to leave my dad. Living here, I see him three or four times a week. If I move away, I won't be able to do that anymore.
I may not have been his favorite son but I'm still his son and I can't leave him. I don't know if that time will ever come. Or if I'll ever get my life back.
11
Skye
"What do you do for dinner?" I ask, walking up to Travis. He's standing with his back to me, holding a car part in his hand.
"I thought you left," he says, turning to me.
"Nope. Still here. So what do you do for dinner?"
"Usually throw something in the microwave. Or make a sandwich. Why do you ask?"
"I was wondering if you want to get something to eat. I'm out of food. I forgot to go grocery shopping when my aunt and uncle were here and I don't have a car to go there myself. I thought maybe we could grab dinner somewhere. And then maybe you'd drop me off at my apartment?"
"Shit," he says, setting the part down. "I didn't even think about that. You don't have a car. How'd you get here today?"
"My roommate dropped me off but she can't tomorrow. She has class. She could drop me off at four, if that works."
> "Could you come in at noon? I could run over and get you during my lunch break."
"Um, yeah. I guess I could."
"Sorry about that. I should've had you start here after your car was fixed."
"Any idea when it'll be done?"
He walks over to it. "I wasn't going to work on it until the new bumper came in on Friday but I could start on the brake hose and do the tires. Tomorrow I'm booked solid but maybe I could fit it in on Wednesday."
"You can wait for the bumper and do it all at once. Heidi said she'd give me a ride here this week. I just have to work around her class schedule. She was supposed to pick me up tonight but she just called and said she forgot she had a meeting for a group project. Anyway, if you want to skip dinner, that's fine, but I really do need a ride."
"No problem." He rips his shirt off and tosses it in a bin by the workbench. "I just need to clean-up quick and change." He hurries past me.
"Can I watch TV while I wait?"
"Sure." He turns back to me. "But the only TV I have is upstairs."
I can't stop looking at his chest. Ever since he took his shirt off, I can't get my eyes to look back at his face. They're stuck on his chest. And those abs. It's like all he does is work out and yet he's here most of the day so how does he look that good?
"Skye?"
"Oh. Yeah, upstairs is fine."
We go up there and I wait on his couch, watching TV while he goes in his room to shower. There's only a curtain between his bedroom and living room, and as he's getting dressed I feel like I should leave. Like I'm not giving him enough privacy.
"I'll go wait downstairs," I call out, turning the TV off.
"I'm almost ready," he says, shoving the curtain aside. He's wearing jeans and putting on a shirt as he walks past me to the kitchen. "Want anything to drink?"
"I'm okay."
He fills a glass with water and drinks it down, then turns to face me as he buttons his shirt. "Where do you want to eat?"
"We don't have to. I'm sure I can find something in my apartment."
"Let's go somewhere. It's on me, for doing such a great job today. And we'll stop and get you groceries after that."
"Travis, you don't have to do all that. I'm sure you're tired and want to get to sleep."
"I don't sleep much. I usually work until ten or eleven, and get to bed around midnight."
"You work that late?"
"It's the only way I can keep up until I hire someone." He grabs his keys. "Let's go."
"You can't find anyone?" I ask as we walk to his truck. "Not even part time?"
"Not yet. I have an interview with a guy tomorrow so I'm hoping that'll work out. Let's go to that sports bar by your apartment. I haven't been there for awhile."
As he's driving, I look over at him. His hair is still wet and his face is covered with stubble. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his large forearms. He's so damn hot. And smart. Smart enough to be valedictorian. Smart and hot. That's a combo that's hard to find.
"So how do you like your classes?” he asks during dinner.
"They’re okay, but I’m pretty sure I'm failing History. I might drop it while I still can."
I'm not sure why I told him that. It's embarrassing and not something I wanted anyone to know. History is an easy class. I'm only failing because I didn't try. There wasn't a need to. I thought I'd be gone by now.
"If you need some help in History I could tutor you," he says. "It was one of my favorite subjects in college. I almost minored in it."
"Thanks, but I don't need help. I just need to put more effort into it. I didn't even study for the last exam."
"Why not?"
I shrug. "I just didn't feel like it."
"Doesn't that affect your scholarship? Don't you have to maintain a certain grade point in order to keep it?"
"Yeah," I say, getting uncomfortable with this topic and wanting to get off it. "I'll just have to study more. Anyway, have you seen your dad lately?"
"Last Saturday," he says, before taking a drink of his water. "He wasn't feeling well. I think he's getting a cold. I should probably call Shana tonight and ask."
"Your ex?"
"Yeah. She keeps me up to date on how Dad's doing."
"Do you two ever go out? As friends?"
"All the time. We went out last Saturday for dinner after I left Dad's place."
A twinge of jealousy hits me, which surprises me because I never get jealous when it comes to guys. Usually I don't like the guy enough to care if he's out with some other girl. Amy used to tell me that wasn't normal. That I should be jealous if a girl is out with my guy, but I never felt that way, so it's odd I'm feeling like this with Travis, a guy I'm not even dating.
"Does she have a boyfriend?" I ask.
"Shana? No. She hasn't dated anyone since we broke up."
"Maybe she still has feelings for you."
"Could be. It's hard to say. She's hard to read." He finishes the last bite of his burger just as the waitress comes to take his plate.
"Would you like the check?" she asks.
"Sure. No rush."
I'm not finished with my sandwich but I'm too full to eat any more. I move my plate aside for the waitress to pick up. "Would you ever get back together with her?"
He smiles. "Why are you so interested in Shana?"
"I'm just curious. You seem to like each other and get along, so maybe you should get back together."
Why did I say that? I don't want him with Shana. But why? It's not like I'm going to date him myself. I shouldn't be dating at all right now. My time needs to be spent figuring out my life and where I go from here.
"When was your last relationship?" Travis asks, getting his wallet out.
"I haven't really had any." I ball up my napkin and toss it on my plate.
"None? You've never had a boyfriend?"
"I have, but I wouldn't really call those relationships. I wasn't in love or anything."
"You don't have to be in love to be in a relationship. You're just getting to know each other. Maybe it turns into love and maybe it doesn't.
"Were you in love with Shana?"
"Yes," he says, and that twinge of jealousy returns. Why am I reacting this way? I just met him. I shouldn't care.
"Here's your check," the waitress says, handing it to him. She gives him a flirty smile. "Have a good night."
"You too." He smiles back.
"Don't tell me you slept with her too," I say.
"No," he says with a laugh. "You got the wrong impression the other night. I swear that normally doesn't happen."
"So going back to Shana, if you loved her, why couldn't you make it work?"
"I told you, she was becoming more of a therapist than a girlfriend. It was great at first. I finally had someone to talk to, and she helped me get through the stuff I was dealing with, but I didn't want that to be our entire relationship."
"But maybe that could change. Now that a year has passed, maybe you two could move on from that. She seems to still be interested in you. And if you're still doing stuff together, you must like spending time with her."
Why am I pushing this? Why am I trying to get him back with his ex?
"I like her. I just don't know if we're right for each other." He scoots out of the booth. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah." I get up. "We can skip the groceries. I don't want to take up more of your time."
"I don't mind. I'll get a few things for myself while we're there."
Grocery shopping with him feels strange. Everyone's looking at us like we're a couple, and I feel like we are because getting groceries together seems like something couples would do.
Back at my apartment, he insists on helping me carry up my bags. Heidi is home, watching TV on the couch, and sees me walk in.
"Hey, need some help?" she asks.
"Already have some, but thanks." I walk to the kitchen and set down the bags.
"I'm Travis," he says in his deep voice, putting the bags down and walk
ing over to Heidi.
"Hi." Heidi jumps up from the couch and shakes his hand. "Nice to meet you." She glances at me for explanation.
"Travis is my boss," I tell her as I unload the groceries. "He gave me a ride home. How was your meeting?"
"Boring, and way too long. I really hate group projects. And now we have to meet tomorrow too so I can't pick you up after work. I could see if Brad could."
"I'll take her home," Travis says.
"He's also picking me up so you won't have to take me tomorrow."
"A boss who's also a chauffeur," she says, smiling at him.
"Not usually," he says, "but I'm the one who has her car so it's my only option if I want her to work."
"Don't sound so happy about it," I kid.
"I don't mind," he says, coming over to me. "I really don't. I can get you all week if you want."
"That'd be great!" Heidi says, meeting up with us in the kitchen. She grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. "I have to get some reading done so I'll see ya later." She walks off.
"You two been friends long?" Travis asks, folding up the empty paper sacks as I put stuff away.
"We're not really friends. Just roommates."
"How'd you meet her?"
"She was Amy's friend," I say, my chest tightening when I say her name. I try not to, but when I do, I get that tightness in my chest.
He sets down the sack he was folding. "Is that hard for you?"
"Can you hand me the peanut butter?" I ask, pointing to it.
He picks it up and puts it on the shelf. "Is it hard for you?"
"It goes here." I take the peanut butter and set it on the counter, next to the toaster.
"Skye, stop." He waits for me to look at him.
"What?"
"Answer my question."
"Why? What difference does it make?" I go around him to the fridge and open it. "I needed a roommate and so did Amy."
He comes up next to me and closes the fridge. "You just said Amy."
"No I didn't," I say, opening the fridge again. "You heard me wrong. I said Heidi."
He shuts the fridge door and stands in front of it. "You said Amy."
"If so, then I didn't mean it," I say with a nervous laugh as I turn to unload the last grocery sack.
"Were they alike?" he asks, standing beside me. "Was Amy like Heidi?"
With Every Breath Page 12
