Page 5 of Tandem
I hugged him. My last few tears soaked into his t-shirt for a few moments while I got myself under control. Dad has never gotten so mad at me that he hasn’t given me a hug afterward, it was the most soothing thing to me. “B-but does this m-mean I’m going to be fired…?” I whispered between little sobs.
I was startled when he laughed. “Rosalie, you think I would fire you over something like this? You aren’t going to get off that easily! I expect nothing but double-time work and effort from you now. No more mess-ups, and really putting yourself in here to learn. You owe me that, at the very least!”
I sighed with relief as my heart started to calm down. It was going to be okay. I could still work here. My dreams were all still possible. I would make sure I did whatever I had to do to make everything right with Dad and his business.
With one more head pat, Dad sent me toward the stairs. I went up to the bathroom, splashed some water on my face, and reapplied my mascara. I barely wore any makeup besides mascara and a little light pink, barely-there lipstick.
Strolling out of the bathroom, I looked around the loft. There were a few things out of place, so I began up here, at least where the customers sit would be comfortable again. I plumped the cushions on the couch, picked up some knocked-over music equipment, and wiped down the two vending machines, making sure the glass shined, fingerprint-free.
I walked down the steps quickly and glanced over at Dad, who was busy bending over and picking up some tools thrown all over the floor in his engine bay. I wouldn’t let him do most of the cleaning. This was my fault. I rolled up my sleeves and grabbed a bunch of things from the floor. I worked fast. If I didn't know where it went exactly, I knew the general area, so I would put it on a workbench or toolbox because then Dad could put it back exactly where it needed to be. Shortly I was sweating and the main showroom floors were clear of items, and now it was timeto sweep and mop it up. I peered at the clock, showing it was an hour until we opened so I doubled down on my efforts. I grabbed the large push broom and gathered all the debris into a center pile, then grabbed an old shop vac and vacuumed it all up. Finished off the space by rubbing a big mop all over, and besides our somber moods, you wouldn’t be able to tell by the main area what happened here last night.
As I stood there, taking deep breaths and holding back a few more tears, I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. I looked up, and my dad had an appreciative smile on his face as he gave me a squeeze.
“Good work, hun. I appreciate it. Now, why don’t you start going through the paint supplies while I finish up the main rooms and open the doors?” He nodded his head over to the paint lab and my stomach plummeted. I could already see sample catalogs and tools scattered about. I nodded and made my way over there as I heard him roll up the big door with a clatter of metal.
I stood in the doorway, taking it all in. My safe haven was utterly destroyed. The sight of the room’s dissolved state brought tears to my eyes again, and I let a few fall down my cheeks as I let this moment sink in. I closed my eyes tight and could imagine how it all happened in the darkness. Seeing hands ripping things quickly off the walls, rifling through drawers and tossing anything not valuable to the side, shoving everything on the counters clattering to the floors. It made me feel sick to my stomach.
I had to do better in the future, and I would do better in the future. This would only drive me to be the best I could be so I could pay Dad back for each thing stolen because of my negligence last night.
Dad’s first customer came and went as I was picking up everything off the floor. There were so many things I had tothrow away, from broken sample chips to brushes that were trampled on, and even some paint samples were tossed, making a mostly dry mess for me to scrape up. But what was hard to see was all of the nice high-end spraying tools ripped off the wall. There wouldn’t be any painting for a few days until Dad got new supplies.
I made a list of things needing to be replaced as I went, including the exact quantities of squirrel hair brushes, paint samples that needed to be remade, and equipment that was missing.
Just a little after our usual lunchtime, I was done cleaning up the paint shop. I stood up and stretched. My back was sore and killing me from the last few hours hunched over on the floor. I looked out into the main area of the shop, and Dad was walking over toward the rims, so I walked out and over to him. “I’m all finished in the paint lab. What else needs to be done?”
He glanced up from pulling a fresh tire out with a thin whitewall ring around it that he would soon be fitting to a rim. “Why don’t you go ahead and finish the bay next to mine with Reece and then head home for the day? You’ve helped a lot, Rosalie, I can’t have you getting worn out. You can work late the rest of the week to make up for the paint clients I had to move.” He winked at me and gave me an encouraging smile.
I shifted my weight back and forth between my feet and bit my lip nervously. “Are you sure? I don’t mind staying all day if I have to, if that’s what it takes to get everything in order.”
Dad shook his head no. “No, it’ll be fine, we’re pretty much done cleaning. It’ll just be Reece and I taking inventory after I get this guy some new wheels.” He grabbed another tire, and I slowly nodded in agreement. I made my way into the bay Reece was working in, and we nodded at each other.
Dad had hired Reece a couple of years ago when he needed another mechanic to keep up with all the work he was getting.We worked in silence as I helped to clean up this area. Dad walked over a little bit after and I heard a car fire up and back out of the shop. He looked happier than the last time I saw him, so that was good.
“Just helped a guy get the perfect set of gold rims on his lowrider. Are you about done here?” he asked as he glanced between the both of us happily.
Reece nodded, and I stood up, wiping off some dust on my jeans. “Y-yeah, we’re pretty much done! Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and keep helping?” I turned and faced Dad, giving him a look to let him know I meant what I said earlier.
He laughed softly. “Rosalie, you have done so much to help today. Go home, get a shower, and get something to eat. I’m going to need you here bright and early tomorrow, all right?”
Well, now that he mentioned it, I was starving. I hadn’t gotten anything to eat yet today, and it was well past when I usually ate lunch. As if on cue, my stomach growled, and they both looked at me. I blushed, and they started laughing. Then I couldn’t stop myself, so I started laughing along with them. After we all caught our breaths, I walked over and hugged Dad. “I’m really sorry again, Dad. It won’t ever happen again,” I whispered into his chest, only loud enough for him to hear.
“I know, hun, I know it won’t. Now…” He pushed me slightly away from him. “Get outta here!” He spun me in a half circle and gave me a push toward the doors. I made my way outside and to my car. The LA sun was high in the sky, and I soaked in the warm sun’s rays on my skin as I entered my car and drove toward home.
CHAPTER 5
AJ
At this point,I was used to the pain after fight nights. I rolled my shoulders as I pulled my tank top straight and looked in the mirror. The soreness lingered in my muscles for about a week on a good fight night, depending on if I took more hits than others. That’s okay with me, at least feeling the pain meant knowing I was alive and living another day to work harder and hustle.
I pulled on the rest of my worn workout clothes and stretched in the middle of the bedroom. My muscles screamed in protest as I took them through their paces. But soon, they felt more limber, and I turned my attention toward the punching bag I had hanging in one of the corners of the room. As it swayed back and forth slightly, I slammed a few well-aimed hits into it, the rhythmic thuds echoing around the room. The motel staff didn’t say shit about it, keeping out of my room except for fresh towels, sheets, and garbage removal twice a week. And with an extra five hundred bucks in his hands each month, the owner didn’t care about the damage done to the room. From the punching bag to the six holes I had put in the walls at some point before it existed, he wouldn’t say shit. He looked as shady as they came, wearing a faded Hawaiian-print shirt, a stained white t-shirt under it withkhaki shorts, and large square glasses. I also knew he let some of the Los Demonios boys deal hallucinogens in the parking lot for a cut. So if he kept his mouth shut about the damage, then the cops wouldn’t be informed of that little bit of bullshit.
I grabbed some bottled water from the mini fridge and my car keys. Time to go to the gym and get in my full workout. Making my way down the steps of this crumbling place, I walked into the parking lot where my car was. The drive to the beach was always a good one, grabbing a breakfast burrito from the local taco dive on the way. Gotta get some protein packed for the workout that was about to go down.
God, this was exactly what I needed. I was fifty reps in on the bench and was nearing the last major part of my workout as I stood up, wiping the sweat off my face with a towel. Stretching one more time, I walked over to the punching bags.
The exercise made my aching muscles relax more, and my usual two-hour workout each day was one of the best things I had going on. I helped one of the local boys who was working out by spotting him on the bench press, noticing he was still rocking the same weight he had the past couple of weeks. I gripped the bar and put a little force on it, making him bench more than he had done before.
“Next week, you better have some more weight on it. Don’t get lazy. You're here to improve yourself, so give it your all every time you show, got it?” I told him as I helped him up from his reps.