Claiming Sunshine (2 page)

             
“Oh, I wouldn't expect you to give me a job. Geez.”

             
“Nonsense, we are looking for office help and you are looking for a job. You already have us all figured out from your little show, and I heard the F-bomb you threw out when you got on my bike, so I know you can handle the shit talk that flies around a garage. If you need to talk to Sam about it, go ahead and get back to me as soon as you can.” He throws quotes in the air as he says Sam's name, and heads off to the office to grab a business card. He writes his cell number on the back and hands it to her. “We haven't put an ad out for it yet, so I will wait a day. If you don't call me, I will know you and Sam decided this isn't a good fit for you.”

             
His phone rings as he is walking away. She pulls out of the lot as he answers it. “Hi, is Nikki around?  She called me from this number and said that she had run out of gas.”

             
Scooter thinks to himself... you stupid ass, you should have answered your fuckin' phone.... he didn't say that though. “Nope she just drove off.  We, my buddy and I, got her some gas and she is good to go.”

             
“Oh, thanks a bunch. You'd think she would have the gas thing figured out after driving that truck for a few months,” Sam says, and hangs up.

             
“What an asshole,” Scooter says as he puts his phone away. What kinda man is ok with his woman driving a truck that runs out of gas, leaving her prey to who the fuck knows out in the world. He shakes his head and heads for the building at the back of the lot.

              She pulls into the driveway of their home after getting some more gas. She has decided to skip the interview and hope to God that Scooter was serious about his offer. Now, to tell Sam, or not to tell him? She finds her phone sitting on the dryer right where she left it with two missed calls from Sam. She taps the screen to call him.

             
“Hey, I just chatted with your savior for the day,” he says when he picks up, “You really need to get a handle on that gas gauge.” He laughs.

             
“I wish you would fix it,” she nags again.

             
“When the fuck is that going to happen? In my sleep? I have to work, to pay the bills and all this overtime is really burning me out,” he barks into the phone.

             
“I know, I will try to do better with the gauge, geez.” She feels defeated in her attempt to put herself first... life is what it is.

             
“So does that mean you missed the interview?” he asks.

             
This is her chance to tell him about the guys and the job offer, or to just act as if this was a job she applied for and got. She decides on the later, and responds. “Yeah, I mean no... I made it and got the job. They aren't sure if I will be running the office or just answering phones, but I got it.” She feels bad about not telling the whole truth, but somewhat justified after everything with the truck. She also hopes that Scooter or Georgie will let her work around the kid's school schedules and what about summer?

             
She is pulled back to the phone call. “Nikki, are you there?”

             
“Yeah, sorry, what did you say?” She refocuses.

             
“How much does it pay?” he asks, annoyed by her.

             
“Not sure.”

             
“What? You took a job without knowing the pay?”

             
“Does it matter? I got a fucking job.” She taps the end button and sets her phone to silent so she can successfully ignore his call-backs.

Chapter 2

             
She pulls the business card out of her pocket, and takes note of the name of the garage. JD's Auto Repair was across the card, with a hot rod of some sort, and a motorcycle silhouetted in each top corner. Flipping it over, she taps out the number on her phone, and puts it up to her ear.

             
“Scooter,  here.”

             
“Hi Scooter, this is Nikki, you rescued me this morning.”

             
“Yeah, I didn't forget you that quick. Are you gonna take the office job?”

             
“Yeah, but I have a few questions...”

             
“Shoot Sunshine, whatcha need to know so we can get you down here straightening out the office and the guys?”

             
“Well, I need to know the hours. I have kids. They come first, so I need to know if I can be there after 8, and leave before 3?” she asks, hoping that it will work out, since she already told Sam that she had the job.

             
“Well, the shop's open from 9 to 6, so the morning is good, but we might need you to stay in the afternoon.”

             
“Ok, well, I will see what I can do to find someone to watch the kids and get back to you. Also, what does it pay?”she asked, knowing that Sam would be on her about it.

             
“I will have to ask Georgie, but I think the last gal was making $12 an hour. Does that work? Oh, and we have a babysitter that watches a few of the kids for the club, if you can't find anyone.”

             
“Ok thanks, if you could get her number for  me, that would be great.”

             
“I have it here on my phone, just a minute.” There is a pause. “Oh shit, I don't know how to switch screens, I will text it to you when we hang up. Ok, Sunshine?” Did he have kids, a wife? She found herself wondering, and noted that he didn't wear a wedding ring.

             
“Oh, ok, I guess I will talk to you soon then. I will call you back when I get this figured out. When can I start?”

             
“Yesterday, as soon as you can. Talk in a bit” They hang up.

             
What was it about him that made her so frustrated with her life? She shakes it off … it’s just that stupid fucking show... as if she could be an ol' lady, even the term made her cringe. It's just a job and a nice biker helping her out.

              She is just finishing up making dinner, and telling the kids to clear their homework from the table, when Sam walks in the front door. He tosses his keys in the bowl on the shelf by the door, and walks into the kitchen.

             
“Glad you got a job, 'bout time,” he says, giving her a light pop on the ass. “What are the hours and the pay?”

             
Is that all that matters to him? How much she will bring in and how much time this will take away from him? She could hardly blame him though, her resentment towards him was growing too. He said he was going to take care of her and she could be the stay at home mom that she always wanted to be. He didn't count on the cost of living reflecting the new higher pay in the big city.

             
“It's Monday through Friday 9 to 6 and I think he said $12 an hour,” she answered, and then went on to answer his next questions before he had the chance to ask. “I already have a sitter lined up for the kids, and will be able to take the time off each day to pick them up from school and get them to the sitter. Both are close to the shop that hired me.”

             
“Yeah Dad, Mom took us there today and the lady is really nice. She has chickens and a cool swing set,” Jen, eight, their youngest tells him. She is so excited about the chickens, she is Nikki's future veterinarian.

             
He looks at her as he puts all his Tupperware in the sink from his lunch cooler. “So you checked it out, seemed cool to you?”

             
“Yep, she is certified, and watches some of the mechanic's kids too. That's where I got her number from. I called her and she didn't hesitate to invite me over, so when I picked up the girls, we went over there to check it out,” she explained.

             
“I don't like it Dad, why can't Mom stay home with us like you said she could? Chickens are stupid and there's a dumb kid there that took my book from me,” Nelly piped in. She was the out spoken, don't give a shit who hears it, kid. Kinda like Nikki used to be, before she surrendered to life now.

             
“Nelly, that stupid kid was two, and got a short time out for doing that,” she pointed out.

             
“Yeah, well, he was still stupid, and I want to come home after school, not go to a stupid babysitter with a stupid two year old.” She grabbed the rest of her books off the table and stomped down the hall and slammed her door.

             
Being 11 was so hard on her. Sam's theory was to just punish the hell out of her and make her act civil. Nikki fought him at every turn. She didn't need it beat out of her, like had happened to her. She needed to be able to wear her heart on her sleeve and say what she needed to. Nikki wasn't going to have it any other way. She was taught by a bastard of a stepfather that it was better to stuff that shit down and swallow it.

             
“If she slams that door again, I am going to slam her,” he said, under his breath.

             
“That's enough. We don't need two 11 year old,.” she said, trying once again to defuse him. He shook his head and grabbed a plate and started dishing up dinner.

              The next morning goes without a hitch, except Nelly whining about the babysitter again. She was insisting that she is old enough to be home alone and watch her sister. Nikki gets them both dropped off at school, and has about 40 minutes to kill, so she decides to drive by the garage and see if anyone is there yet. Maybe get a jump on the office clean up. As she slows down, she sees Scooter unlocking the gate to the lot. She stops and rolls down the truck window.

             
“The early bird gets the worm, right?” she says, because it's the first thing that comes to mind and then realizes the metaphor, and turns red. She can feel the heat rushing over her face. “That didn't come out right,” she says, trying to save herself.

             
Laughing,  he walks the gate in a wide circle to open it up for the day. He comes back to grab the other side and do the same. He stops and looks at his pocket watch. “You are an early bird there Sunshine. Come on in and I will show you the ropes. No worm though,” he laughs again, as he motions his hand for her to drive past him into the lot.

             
He was making coffee just outside the office in the garage when she walks in. Putting her purse on the chair, she digs into the first paper pile, not having a clue how to organize it all.

             
“Hey, why don't you wait for Georgie to get here and show you the system he's got set up before you make a mistake that he won't be happy about,” he said, handing her a steaming cup of coffee and motioning for her to follow him. They walked out of the office, and around the corner there is an old fashioned time clock on the wall. He hands her a time card. “Put your name across the top,” he says, handing her a sharpie. He takes it from her, sticks it in the slot, and it makes a clunking noise as it stamps the time on the card. “Put it in the top slot there.” He points to the slots where the others are.

             
“Aren't you going to punch in too?” she asks, looking for a 'Scooter' on the other cards.

             
“Sunshine, this is my shop, no need to punch in,” he says, motioning again for her to follow. “Keep up.” He grabs her hand and pulls her along for a minute, letting go when Georgie walks in from the office, hitting a big button on the wall to open the first bay door.

             
“Hey Georgie, this here is Sunsh... I mean, Nikki, she is our new office help. I gotta go get things going out back. Can you show her the ropes before you start fixin' shit this morning? I told her you had a system that she needed to follow.” He walks out, leaving her with Georgie and her hand still tingling, burning, aching from his touch. What the fuck was this?

             
“Nice to meet you again, Nikki.” He held out his hand and gently shakes it, washing away the remnants of Scooters touch.

             
The rest of the morning goes fast. Georgie lines her out on the basics of the filing system, figuring the time cards out on Mondays, and taking and scheduling calls. She is overwhelmed, but Georgie is patient and tells her to take one thing at a time and she would find a rhythm. She thanks him numerous times for the job. He finally stops her.