Chapter 21 – West
WEST
“ I ’m just saying, ask her,” Agnes reasons from her folding chair by the garage bay door as I once again, pull the tarp off the Rolls.
“For the last time, Agnes,” I whoosh out a breath as I walk over to her, handing her two of the tarps ends.
“There’s no point in asking Kira to include a Hunky Hotties pageant as part of the festival.
I already know she won’t go for it.” I explain as the elder woman puts her two corners together and helps me fold the tarp.
“I don’ t know about that, hun. Your girlfriend seems to be far more openminded than you. You never know what she might go for.”
She’s right about that. Kira’s not one bit the rich debutante she was raised to be.
Then again neither am I, although I was raised with new money as opposed to old wealth and there could be a difference.
My dad’s influx of cash from the racing world didn’t stop my mother from doing something with herself, though.
She totally capitalized on the cotillion-based community we lived in with her gown shop.
“And I mean, come on ,” Agnes continues, dragging that last word over scratchy gravel. “It will be a big hit with the out-of-towners when they see all the man candy this town has to offer.” She sits back with a lazy grin and reaches for her coffee cup.
I’m just placing the folded tarp on one of the corner counters when my phone vibrates in my back pocket. I retrieve it to find my sister’s name lighting up the screen.
“Mack,” I greet her after accepting the call and she responds with a heavy sigh.
“Hey,” she groans.
“You alright?” I ask, feeling my brow buckle at her despondent tone.
“No,” she admits, the word sounding begrudging. “I’m at my wit’s end, West. Something needs to happen, or I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Okay, take a deep breath, and tell me what’s going on. We’ll find a way to work through it.”
“I bet you anything it’s man trouble,” Agnes hollers from her makeshift lounge. I turn and give her a pointed look.
“Sorry, I have company in the garage,” I explain. “But don’t mind her.”
“Ha!” Agnes huffs as I turn my attention back to my sister.
“I’m just trapped in this draining cycle with the job and taking care of ,” she confides on a long gust of breath.
“I can’t work unless I have someone to watch him, and I can’t pay to have someone watch him if I don’t work.
My boss is being a total dipshit tightwad.
I haven’t gotten a raise in over a year, and he still won’t put me on any of the worthwhile projects. I can’t build my portfolio for shit.”
“Did the money I sent you in March help any?” I inquire as I slowly walk back over to the Rolls and wake up my computer on its mobile cart.
“Yes,” she sighs. “It did for a bit, thank you. I just got behind when the Toyota needed a new radiator.”
I grunt in sympathy. “If you lived here, I could regularly maintenance that thing for you. ”
“I know.” She sounds like an annoyed teenager.
“And it sounds like your boss is keeping you off the high-end projects so that he has an excuse to not pay you more. And if he can keep you from building your portfolio he doesn’t have to worry about you leaving for greener pastures.”
“Oh my god, do you really think that’s what’s happening?” Her voice goes up as if in revelation.
“I don’t know, but it adds up. Do you think he’s the type to want to get away with keeping a talented and dependable employee on a meager payroll?”
“Son of a bitch,” she huffs out. I think I hit the nail on the head. “And on top of everything else, some bigwig is buying my condo complex and raising the rent. With what my bosshole pays me, I’m not going to be able to afford it.”
“Alright, slow down Mack,” I tell her, when I start to hear tears in her voice. “You’re right, this is def con two and something’s got to give. First of all, did you hit up the asshole?”
“Of course I did,” she clears the emotion out of her throat.
“I called dad, and I even tried dickface,” - that’s the father of her kid - “and there’s no getting ahold of him either.
He hasn’t paid any child support in four months and yes, I’ve had him served, but it hasn’t done shit.
He’s just holing up somewhere pretending we don’t exist until some cop or lawyer catches up with him, but for right now I’m fucked.
Asshole and Dickface, that’s the men in my life. ”
“Hey,” I lower my voice in warning.
“Except you.”
“Thank you. You know…” the cogs in my head are starting to turn, since she just pointed out that I’m the one person who hasn’t let her down, not even when I went to jail. “What would you think about moving here?”
“Eh?”
“Eh?” Agnes echoes from her chair.
“Shit’s falling apart, right?”
“Well… yeah but… isn’t that like out in the middle of nowhere?” She questions, not trying to be condescending. “It would probably be hard to find a place to live, and what kind of interior design opportunities are there?” She’s trying to point out her misgivings on how this could help her.
“But there’s community,” I counter. “And while I don’t know of a place to live, you could at least have a place to stay while you figure that out. And plenty of people to watch Aria while you catch your breath and figure out your next move.”
“What?” She sounds incredulous. “Don’t you live in a tiny studio apartment?”
“Yeah,” I answer, still trying to think. I forgot for a second how cramped that would be. “But…what I could do is stay with my girlfriend, and you could have my place for a bit.”
“BULL. HONKEY!” Agnes shouts. How the fuck is she hearing all this? I turn towards her, trying to not look terrified at the prospect of her being a witch.
“It’s the hearing aids, honey,” she explains without me asking. “They pick up everything,” she shrugs, as if to say what are you gonna do? “Anyway, tell her she can stay with me. She’ll have a built-in babysitter.”
“Who is that?” Mack presses from her end of the line. “What is she talking about?”
“Well it’s my friend Agnes,” I explain, turning away from the lady in question and bringing up what I need on my computer. “She was offering for you to stay in her place. She does have a lot of rooms, but?—”
“But nothing,” Agnes states from right behind me this time and I scream.
“Jesus!” I exclaim, nearly dropping my phone. How the fuck did she get there so fast? And where’s the memo that it’s my day to watch her?
As I grapple for my phone, Agnes effortlessly puts it to her ear .
“Listen sweetie…” she takes my phone with her back in the direction of her chair.
“Around here, I’m everyone’s gramma, and my house has become a shelter for women - excuse me, and men - who have been dicked over by stupid dipshits that sport a Y chromosome.
I have a couple of tenants, but there’s still plenty of room.
” She sits back and props her feet up on the Rolls bumper.
I start to give her a what the fuck look but she waves me away as she keeps talking.
“It just means more eyes on the little tyke. How old is he anyway? Oooh! That’s a fun age.
So sweetie, listen, you’ve got everything you need right here.
So tell that boss of yours to eat a dick…
” she carries on, and it seems my sister has no issue with letting her prattle on and convince her to make a major life move.
I sigh, shaking my head when I hear a set of petulant boot steps come stomping around the corner.
Ryan appears, looking just as chipper as expected. “You wanted to see me?” He grumbles, bringing his to-go coffee cup to his lips.
“Yeah, I need you to go buy a bell to put on Agnes.” I lower myself to my stool and swivel to face him. “I’ve got an opportunity for you.”
“This oughta be good.”
I can’t handle the excitement radiating off this young man.
“I have a new, self-imposed deadline for getting this thing fully restored and sold,” I say, waving a hand at the antique car just before Agnes pipes up, saying something to Mack that catches my ear.
“Why yes, he did say girlfriend earlier. Cute little thing from Chicago.”
“So what do you want from me?” Ryan asks, referring to my proposal.
“Just help me work on it,” I hold my hands out in the that’s all gesture. “Be an extra set of hands and help shave some days off the timeline.”
He shakes his head, looking confused. “Why me, though?”
“I figure it will give you something to focus on. Plus, I’ll get the guys to lay off the hazing if you think you can get your head out of your ass.
I don’t know if the automotive industry is on your vision board” - pretty sure this dude has nothing in mind where his future’s concerned - “but taking part in a project like this would be a hell of a stamp on your resume if you ever want to get serious about making a living for yourself.”
“Guess that’s not a bad thing.” He’s probably referring more to being out of the other guys' warpaths than the professional opportunity. I get the sense this kid really has no idea what he wants to do with himself yet.
“You’d have to do everything I say, and there won’t be any room for bullshit. It won’t be for the faint of heart, it will be long hours.”
“Well, I can’t say the long hours thrills me, but… the idea of keeping my head down and everyone else leaving me the fuck alone does. Plus I don’t have shit else to do,” his lips contort into a crooked frown as he lifts a shoulder.
“That’s the spirit.”
Agnes shuffles up and holds my phone out to me.
“Your sister is making plans to be here in the next few weeks,” she reports as I pocket my phone.
“She’ll stay at my place. I did warn her that she has to be okay with the occasional speakeasy but I’ll keep it PG - well, mostly - since she’s got the little tyke.
“Thanks Agnes,” I tell her sincerely. I really need to start working on her Jeep for free with all the good she does in this town. Of course, that means I’ll have to prepare for more shameless cat calls and ogling.
“You’re welcome.” She turns to Ryan. “And you. Shithead.” Ryan doesn’t respond except with a slow blink and a slump of his shoulders.
“Don’t worry about what you’re going to do for a career.
Just learn how to be nice to people, and that’s all you need to meet a nice gal…
or guy. You never know these days.” She turns and struts herself out of the garage bay door. “Now get your cute asses to work!”