Page 8 of Truck Me

Nostalgia? I jerked off plenty of times as a teenager to her yearbook pictures. What can I say, she was hot back then. Still is. Whatever it is, I wish it would go away.

With a couple of minor adjustments and the replacement of the belt, the washing machine is up and running within twenty minutes. After doing a quick test run, I determine it’s safe for Charlotte to restart her load.

“I’ll call your mom and make arrangements to fix her machine this week,” I say as I pack all my tools back in my bag.

“We’ll appreciate that. Thank you.” Charlotte rolls the basket back to the machine and tosses her soggy clothes back in.

Rayne rushes to me and wraps her arms around my waist for a tight hug. “Aunt Char says she’ll make cookies soon. I’ll make sure you get some when she does.”

I smile down at her and ruffle her hair. “I’d appreciate that. I best be going.”

“Bye Garret.” Rayne waves as I head for the door.

I’m almost out of earshot when I hear Charlotte mumble to Rayne. “Why does he smile at you and frown at me like I’m the spawn of Satan?”

“Dunno. I guess he likes me. Maybe you should be nicer to him.”

I can’t help but smile at her logic. Although Charlotte being nicer to me won’t change a damn thing. As long as my body reacts to hers like it did today, my frown will be permanent.

* * *

Five minutes later, I pull up in front of Mrs. Engle’s hair salon. It’s right in the middle of town next to Frank’s Frosty Kreme, the only restaurant in town.

The hair salon is the hotspot for local gossip. If it happens within a two-mile radius of the salon, the entire town knows about it within an hour. If Mrs. Engle catches wind of a secret, forget keeping it hidden.

It wouldn’t surprise me if she already knows I was at the laundromat down the street, and that I handled Charlotte’s underwear. To her, that’s scandalous news, even though it was completely innocent. Gossip like that will keep this woman yakking for weeks to come.

When I step out of my truck, a gust of icy wind hits me in the chest. I was hot while at the laundromat, and never zipped up my coat when I left. We haven’t had much snow yet this winter, but all the experts say it’s coming. We’ve had unusually colder temperatures, so a good snowstorm seems likely.

Before I wrap my hand around the doorknob to let myself in, the door swings open.

“Took you long enough.” Mrs. Engle tsks. “I’ve had the worst time doing hair with a broken chair.”

As expected, she’s worked up and ready to throw a fit. I ignore her attitude and walk past her to the chair in question. Despite all the extra space she has in this building, she’s only got one chair. I realize it’s just her, but if she had a spare, this wouldn’t keep happening. Hell, if she’d just get a new chair, I wouldn’t have to keep coming back to fix it.

“Told you I had another call that came in first. Got here as soon as I could.”

“Well.” She presses her hand to her chest like she’s so put out. “But this was an emergency. Surely that trumps whatever else needed fixing.”

“Depends on who you ask.”

She rears her head back like I just offended her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that the broken washing machine I just fixed was an emergency to the person trying to use it. They might even say that it was more of an emergency than your chair.”

“I highly doubt that.” She tsks again and takes a seat at her small desk by the entrance.

I shake my head as I crouch down next to the chair. It only takes me about three seconds to determine it’s the same problem it always is. The lock on the lift keeps slipping because of a broken spring. This chair is so old, the lift is stiff and puts too much strain on the spring. It breaks every few months.

Digging into my bag, I pull out the bundle of spare springs I purchased last year. As long as she keeps refusing to buy a new chair, I’m going to need every one of these springs.

“Same problem as last time and every time before that,” I say. “You need a new chair.”

“Pish posh.” She huffs. “As long as you can fix it, it’s fine.”

“Fine, fine,” I grumble. “I’ll get it fixed in a few.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”