Learning How to Live - 4. Thunder

Jared turned off of the road and smoothly pulled into the parking lot; it was late and he was beat. He parked a few spots away from the door to his unit and cut the engine of his truck. He gripped the steering wheel and slouched down in the seat, sighing as he lay his head back and closed his eyes. He rubbed his face with the back of a hand and willed his nerves to quiet as he sat in the empty silence of the cab. His mind wandered to Cheryl and he groaned. It was always the same useless brooding. He wanted to fix things but… “How am I supposed to fix things when she won’t even talk to me?” He snorted under his breath. This wasn’t new ground or even a new place to be covering it in - most of the time he spent away from his job was wasted in this same loop of thought. Sure, she was pissed and probably hurt but how the hell was locking herself in that ivory tower of hers going to solve anything?? He shook his head against the headrest and stared at the roof of his truck. He could smell the industrial solvent and rust clung to his coveralls and boots; as if that wasn’t bad enough, the right side of his chest was covered in spent motor oil where he’d been sprayed while under a car when a hose had cracked. He’d worked another fourteen hour shift and been nursing a headache for probably half of it.

He thought about when she’d told him Greg was his; he could have drowned in the bottomless well of disbelief and disappointment in her eyes. He swallowed hard, his eyes unfocused for a moment. “What the hell else can I do?” he sighed resignedly into the darkness. What the hell was he going to do? He didn’t know anybody that wasn’t her family or co-workers to ask for help. His brothers and family were a few states to the south and his parents were a state further still. He had friends, like the guys in the shop, or a few guys he lifted with at the gym, even a few people he knew from a few pickup games of tennis; he didn’t know anyone closely enough to get them into this mess with him though. She was the socialite; he just always enjoyed laughing and joking with people having a good time - he wasn’t exactly good at getting them to that point but whenever Cheryl and he were in a group things seemed so easy.

He started when a door slammed somewhere to his right; he looked over to see a disheveled middle aged businessman make his way between the cars parked in front of the walkway. Jared grimaced; he could see the sweat on the man’s neck glint under the blue lighting of the parking lot. He waited as the man climbed into a truck situated at the far end of the lot and watched it pull away. He rubbed his arms and could feel the chill of the air creeping into his boots as the inside of his truck cooled to match the outside. With a heavy sigh he opened the door to his truck before reaching back to grab the bags from across the seat and made his way up the dim sidewalk.

He slipped the key to his room into the reader and waited for the whirling of the mechanism to unlock the door before shuffling through the door. He bent to let the door slide past him as he tried to stay on the little square of linoleum that served as the entryway of the room. He tossed his keys onto the end table of the high-backed chair that faced the window from next to the door before gingerly setting his bags in the chair before stretching and kicking off his boots. He reached over to empty the contents of the grocery bag onto the dresser and held the bag as he peeled the greasy clothes from his body and balled up everything into the plastic bag which he sat by the door before he grabbed the little bottle of liquid degreasing soap and padding off to the bathroom.

He turned on the shower and regarded himself in the mirror under dim deadpan lighting that boob light of the room provided; he pushed his fingers through the motor oil coating the side of his chest and grimaced. “That’ll be a joy to get off.” He looked himself over, turning himself this way and that as he tried to assess his physical state. He was taller than average but not a giant; he had well developed and defined shoulders and arms with a broad back. He bounced his pecs and touched the hint of pudge covering his tummy. He always thought he looked a little funny since his back looked so much longer than his legs; he’d always had pretty developed and defined legs from sports in school he seemed to be maintaining them pretty well; for a man in his late twenties, he thought he was doing OK. He stopped and climbed into the shower as the mirror began fogging up.

He pulled the shower curtains closed and let the shower spray over his neck and run down his body as he relaxed against the wall; the nozzle was too low for him to put his head under it without ducking. Jared preferred soaking to showers but the tub here had no way to stop the drain and was dreadfully short and cramped. “At least there’s all the hot water I could want,” he sighed as he leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. His mind wandered as his body started to warm up and the knots in his shoulders gave just a fraction under the warm spray. It had been nearly two weeks since he’d packed a suitcase of clothing and toiletries, a gym bag of work and workout clothing, and a backpack with his tablet and miscellaneous possessions and relocated to the cheapest motel he could find that offered long term rentals. It was a little family owned affair near the local community college - As far as he could tell, most of the patrons were only in need of a room for an hour or two rather than a place to sleep. He hadn’t spoken to his wife since she’d stormed out of the house. He grimaced; he hadn’t spoken to Roan since the park; clearly the red head was already upset with him since he usually at least sent a half-assed joke or a good morning every couple of days but his phone had been silent beyond work and a rather tense call from his mother a few days prior - Apparently, something was going on between his brothers and his father; he didn’t really want to get involved in it and he’d politely tried to keep her talking about how she was and what she was doing to keep busy during the first year of her retirement. He frowned and pushed his mind back to the present - he didn’t need help ruining what was the shining high point of his day.

He felt for the soap bottle with his eyes closed - it was just as well given it was hard to see in the little light that filtered through the age old rust stains of the dingy plastic shower liner - and started to rub the pumice into his chest. He hated the scratchy stuff as it always made his skin feel like it was burning and would leave an angry red mark for the rest of the night but the alternative of staying greasy wasn’t an option. He chuckled, as he thought about all of the razzing he got from the guys at his job; for a mechanic, he had always been really self-conscious about keeping himself clean - Cheryl would even tease him about how his fingernails were cleaner than hers were and she paid someone to clean hers. Still, he always felt like people would look down on him for his blue-collar job and, even since it had become more white collar...the feelings persisted; he shrugged, it wasn’t like he minded washing if not for the irritation from the sandy soap. He rinsed off the grit and, he was sure, skin from the oil and made sure the heavy slick was gone before grabbing for the regular unscented bar that he used for everything else. He started at his head, running the bar around the stubble of his head; he followed with a nylon nail brush in his other hand to scrub at the skin and foam up the soap. He continued down his face and scrubbed the brush through the ‘five day’ shadow of his beard. He took his time as he bathed, just enjoying the warmth of the water and the rote mindlessness of the routine and allowing it to be his relaxation for the day. He was a nice cherry red all over from his head to his toes, not that he could really tell in the awful room but he always was, and pruning by the time he turned off the water and reached for his towel on the loose bar mounted to the wall.

He clicked on the television as he walked into the other room with the towel wrapped about his hips and he moved the bags from the seat cushion of the chair and placed them on the little ottoman in front of it. He grabbed italian sub and a bag of chips from one of the bags and used the bag to protect his food from touching the cushion. He watched the highlights portion of the sports news show that happened to be on as he ate his meal in silence. It was a little before eleven when he turned off the television and cleaned up his mess. He turned on the lamp on the end table and reached into the last of the bags remaining; he pulled the card from it’s envelope; it showed the fingers of a male pianist resting at home position with the thumb depressed on the key it was touching with the caption ‘Just a Note’. He grabbed a pen from the nightstand and flipped the card open; the inside read “to say I love you.” and he regarded it for a moment before he leaned down to write. “Dear Greg, “

---
It was still dark out as he pulled his truck alongside the mailbox. He set his coffee down in the center console beside the breakfast bagel sandwich he’d bought with it. His brow furrowed as he stared up at the house for a bit picturing how his son looked asleep in his bed; in another hour or so, Greg would wake up and wander into the master bedroom, his blanket in tow, to crawl into the bed with them..with Cheryl. He looked back at the steering wheel and rubbed at the feeling in his chest. He slid the card and parcel into the mailbox before pulling away and heading up the road and out of the sleepy streets of his old neighborhood. The white rim of the purple calla lily was just visible from the open box.

---
"Yes, Mr. Clarkston. I know you brought your car in for an oil change. My technician found a cracked engine mount while he was changing the filter." Jared rested the phone between his shoulder and his ear while he slumped forward on his arms across the counter. "No sir, you do not have to fix it but you are asking for trouble if you put this off for too long." He closed his eyes and tried to be patient as the man on the other end of the phone walked through the usual disbelief and frustration. Like there was anything he could do about it, as if he was trying to milk the guy for money when his lot was so full it was spilling out onto the roadside. "I know, these things happen at the worst times. It's still lucky that we found it before it got any worse."

"Hey boss,” Jared held up a finger sharply to stop the man behind him from talking to him while he was on the phone.

“It’ll be $635 all in and we can get it done for you by this evening - say around 4.” He stood up and looked up at the man behind him. He was taller than Jared by a few inches but built toned or thin, he wasn’t sure which; the mop of unruly brown hair set a top his over-sized angular head made him look odd, as if he had gotten stuck in the lanky stages of puberty for life; the heavy plastic rims of his thick glasses as they sat on his hawkish nose along with the unkempt blond streaked brown goatee only cemented the impression of a teenager even though the man was just over thirty. “Yes, Mr. Clarkston; we’ll get it done. I’ll give you a call at four to let you know when you can pick it up.” Jared turned to the side as he hung up the phone and started to enter the updated order into the computer beside him. “Now, what’s up?”

“We need a few more parts for that Camry and, uh, Jason broke one of the air drivers." Jared closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long breath loudly.

"Yeah, fine, Evan; give me the parts list and tell Jason that it's coming out of his pay." He looked back down and pulled up the inventory screens and started typing as he searched for the parts needed for Mr. Clarkston’s car and held out his hand over his shoulder for the list he wanted to add. When no paper greeted his hands he turned around and glanced annoyed at the look of consternation Evan was giving him, his eyebrows were monstrous caterpillars grazing on the skin through the distortion of the plastic lenses. "What? They don't just grow on trees."

Evan shifted and swayed. "Nothing, I just didn't think you'd do that to the new guy.” One grazer left the buffet as his face shifted to a look of questioning. “You usually cut them a little slack." Jared made an exasperated sound and leaned back against the counter.

"Uh, sure, never mind about Jason. Just give me the order sheet."

He took the sheet Evan handed it over and turned to walk back out to the shop floor, the frown had returned to his face. "Sure thing, boss." He watched the door close and looked up at the ceiling in the sudden silence that returned to the room and blew out his cheeks.

Raised eyebrows floating over horned rimmed glasses met him when he turned back around to the counter and found his secretary and bookkeeper staring at him with disapproval written all over her face.

"What?!" He held up his hands.

"Jared." The woman pursed her lips. “You know what; this place is usually about as serious as a frat house behind closed doors. Now it’s all business and frowning.”

“This is a business; god forbid we should get a little work done, right?” He raised his shoulders.

She gave him a withering smirk. “The work is getting done but if you keep this up you’re going to start losing people.”

He set the sheet of paper down as he hung his head down with a frown and spread his hands across the faux-marble veneer of the counter. “I’m just trying to get us through the rush; I’ll figure something out afterwards.”

"Is everything alright?"

He wiped his hand over his face and stared out of the store front. "Yeah, it's fine. I'm just tired; I haven't been sleeping well."

"Hmmm Well, be sure to get your rest tomorrow." He looked up, confused.

She smirked at him and he wondered if her eyebrows could even go any higher. "Yes, tomorrow is Saturday."

He laughed nervously. "Ah right, I’ll be working shift tomorrow."

The woman narrowed her eyes and clucked her tongue. “You usually let Bryce run the weekend shift...”

“Yeah, I’ll be doing a shift out in the shop.” He put his hands out and shrugged his shoulders.

She scowled and turned back to her desk, her head was shaking at the screen. "When you're ready to talk, you know where to find me," she called over the clacking as her fingers resumed rolling over her keyboard.

He frowned. "Yeah, thanks, Gini."

---
Jared opened the little tub of baby carrots and sat them on his knee. Little hazel eyes looked up at him and outstretched a thin brown arm above the boy’s head before reaching into the tub to take a carrot. He sat on the timber frame of the sandbox in the yard of the daycare center and Greg was sitting in the grass in front of him on the comforter he’d taken from his motel room; they were both cross legged with their shoes sitting off to the side of the comforter. They were having their lunch picnic as he’d been calling it; he’d brought some assorted items from the deli section of the grocery store along with a sandwich and a thermos of canned soup he’d heated up in the microwave at the shop.

He’d come up with the idea a couple of days after he’d moved into the motel and figured out how to fit making the trip across town to the daycare center into his day; he had to come a little early for lunch to avoid the worst of traffic and the calls at work. Pilar, the owner of the daycare center, had been a little reluctant to let him break up the routine of children but had been sympathetic when he explained the situation of his wife and he being in the middle of a separation and that this was a way for him to not miss out on his son entirely. The children’s schedule worked out such that he and Greg could get a little under an hour together before the rest of the children would finish their own lunch and come out to the playground, then he’d watch his son play with the other kids for a bit before heading back to work.

He thought back to the first trips as he handed the cup of the thermos with soup to his son. It had been a little awkward since the center provided meals for the kids and he would arrive too early for them to give Greg anything. On about the third trip, Greg had a fit because he’d been late due to the line at the grocery store when he’d brought a couple of bags of assorted items; he’d been embarrassingly frazzled and disorganized trying to open all of the bags and set out what he hoped was a decent lunch for a toddler - even more so since he’d have to pack nearly all of it back up to take home with him since the kid was only going to eat a few bits of food from each container. That day had been tough; he’d nearly lost it on the lawn for all to see. He frowned as he took a bite of his sandwich and looked out at the quiet road through the fence at the edge of the yard. On his next trip though, Greg had raced out into the play yard with a bright red lunch box over his head; he’d been so excited to take out the contents of his little treasure box and share with him. He chuckled, he’d wiped his eyes all through that meal. Cheryl had started packing Greg a lunchbox with comically small rubber ware containers; each thimble of a box held a few bits of fruit or slices of vegetables or a handful of chips or cheese. “All done?” Greg nodded; he sighed and started clearing up the mess and stowing the containers into the lunch pail. He dusted off his lap and looked up at the sky. She’d done this every day since; Pilar had told him Greg was quite a celebrity on Fridays when he couldn’t make it over.

He looked down and smiled as he felt a clammy cold hand on his forearm. Greg climbed between his legs and turned to lean his back against Jared’s stomach; he put his arms around his son and kissed the top of his head. “I love you buddy and I miss you so much…” He felt the little arms wrap around his hands and squeeze him; he closed his eyes against the burning in his nose and squeezed back.

---
Jared flexed his fingers around the steering wheel as he stared forward, unseeing, at the white stucco of the two car garage. He worked his jaw as he thought about how to have this conversation. He’d been trying not to think about it for so long that his mind kept glancing away from the pieces he needed to say, preventing him from getting a sense of the whole. He groaned and leaned his head against his hands; the smell of the leather tickled his nose and he tried to focus on it to calm himself. He was parked in Roan’s driveway and had been for what he guessed was ten or fifteen minutes; he’d gotten up this morning and had run out of excuses to push this off another week.

It was Sunday and the only day when he didn’t have much more to tie up his time than laundry what little grocery shopping he could manage to keep in the tiny bar fridge of his motel room; so far he’d been using the day to go to the gym or sit in his room and sulk as he watched cars come and go through the window from his bed. He blushed and smirked as he thought about that morning; he’d made a bit more of a mess than usual so he’d been displaced from his bed due to the damp streaks across the sheets - he’d called the front desk to have them swap his towels and change the linen but he couldn’t imagine sitting by while the cleaning women had to change the bed sheets from the mess he’d made so he’d gotten in the shower and driven around with no destination in mind...until his truck had brought him here.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky and he isn’t home.” He chuckled to himself as he thought about how ridiculous he was being; he was sure that he was screwing up his friendship by letting things sit like they were but the feeling in his stomach told him that he was still uneasy about the situation with the man; the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like doing this after he’d had a chance to sort out his feelings was a better idea. He frowned and reached for the keys where they hung in the ignition when he heard a door shut off to his right. He ground his teeth. Great. He didn’t raise his head but closed his eyes and took a few long breaths trying to still the sinking feeling in his chest. “I’m not ready for this and I’m going to screw things up worse than they already are.” He groaned and looked at the ceiling as he sat up. He could make out the furry shin of the redhead sitting on the porch steps from between the passenger door window and where the side-view mirror cut off the rest of the man’s body. He cracked his neck and reached for the door handle.

As he walked around the bed of the truck, he could see the man sitting looking at the concrete of his driveway. He was wearing a loose light blue v-neck and a pair of khaki cargo shorts that just covered his kneecaps; his arms were extended from over his knees as he slouched forward. He didn’t look up as Jared stopped a couple of yards away and stood in the driveway about where the other man’s gaze was going; it looked as if Roan was staring at his feet now. “Uh, hi. I’m sorry to just show up like this.” Roan shifted an eyebrow and gave the barest of nods. Jared rubbed his hands together. “I know you’re probably pissed at me and all...does now work for you to talk?” Roan looked up at him quizzically. “I, uh, noticed that we haven’t been texting or anything and-”

“For fuck sake, get to the point. If you start talking about how nice a day it is, I am going back inside.” Roan had spat the words out and he was back to staring at the space between Jared’s feet.

“Err, right. So, did Cheryl say anything when she and Greg left?” Roan raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “Uh, OK. Can I ask you something?” He looked up, his eyebrow still raised. “What really happened when Cheryl found you?”

“What are you asking?” Roan frowned.

“I mean how did the whole thing happen?” He rubbed his hands together and shifted his weight to one foot as he looked over into the grass beside the driveway.

“Cheryl told you that story already; we talked about it the night we all met up.”

“I know but...I kind of need to hear it from you - how it went down I mean.” He intertwined his fingers.

Roan shook his head and splayed his fingers as he looked back down in thought. After a moment, he began, “My real estate agent called me while I was waiting on the title company to finish closing on the house; it had been nearly five weeks since the seller’s estate had accepted the offer but who the hell knows what takes so damned long. Brenda wanted to know if there was something wrong with my application or if I had some kind of criminal history.” He snorted. “I was shocked but I just told her I didn’t and asked why she was asking; she told me that the legal team of the title company wanted to speak to me and asked to make an appointment to come to their office.” He looked up at Jared questioningly. Jared just nodded for him to continue. He shrugged. “Anyway, when I got to the office, I was left to wait in an empty conference room for a while before a woman came in with a stack of folders in her hands. She totally played it as if she didn’t know me until I looked up as I was shaking her hand and recognized her. After that she hugged me and apologized for the setup but she could get into a lot of trouble for using work information to contact me personally so she’d raised concerns about something in my application to get a chance to meet with me.” He stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back onto his arms. “Does that answer your question?”

“Uh, no, not really. What happened after that?” Jared cracked his knuckles and stood up, squaring his shoulders.

Roan frowned, confused. “Nothing, really. We signed paperwork and I gave her my cell phone number so we could chat and catch up.”

Jared cleared his throat. “And? Did you meet and catch up?”

Roan shrugged. “Yes, we met for lunch a couple of days after that - over in the cafe down the street from her office. You know the place that serves eggs all day everyday?”

“Cracked.”

“Yeah, that place. We met there and she filled me in on how you two were married and expecting. She told me a little bit about how you both had gotten through to college and how you’d stopped mid-way through but got a job and tried to keep house while she finished.” Roan was watching his face now.

“And? What happened after that?” Jared frowned.

“Nothing. We’d send a text every couple of days trying to find a time to get us all together but I was busy packing and she was swamped with work I guess.” He shrugged.

“You didn’t see each other again? Wasn’t it weeks or like a month later when you actually got the house?” He sounded incredulous.

Roan frowned and stared at him for a time before answering. “Yes, Jared. It was a little over five weeks for me to finish everything and get keys to the house. The next time I saw Cheryl was when she texted me asking for me to meet her at the house the evening after I got the keys - when the three of us met in the backyard.”

Jared rubbed his hands over his head. “That’s it? That’s all the time you interacted?”

“You really are a piece of work. I can’t stress that enough.” Jared looked at Roan’s face; he looked...disappointed.

“Yeah...I know. I try not to be but…”

“You either don’t try hard enough or you need to learn a better way.” Roan hugged his knees to his chest and looked out at the street. “So is that all you needed to talk about?”

He sighed as he touched the first two fingers of his hand between his eyebrows and frowned so the skin cradled them in place. “No. I need to confess to what I was thinking.”

“I’d say that’s rather obvious.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not that creative. Still, just let me say it.”

“I, honestly, would rather you didn’t.” Roan had shifted so that his nose was between his knees.

“Why?”

“Jared, words and thoughts have meaning; you’re about to tell me that everything I thought about being your friend is a lie.” His voice was resigned and Jared swallowed as he watched him. “I don’t really want to hear that - I don’t want to believe it but, even if I must, I still don’t need to be hit with a bat for it.”

“I’m sorry but you don’t understand. I have to say it; I-It is part of the deal or my punishment for fixing things.”

“Jared, your punishment shouldn’t hurt me. What did I do?”

“I...I have to say this. I don’t mean to hurt you but I can’t get my family until I do.” Jared held his face in his hand.

“...Do what you have to do then.” The man’s voice was nothing more than a resigned whisper.

Jared nodded and took a deep breath. “I thought...I accused Cheryl of having an affair with you.” He stood up and clasped his hands behind his back against the tears that began to roll down his cheeks. “I even accused her of…” He looked between his feet. “I accused her of Greg being your child.” He shifted uncomfortably on his feet as the silence formed between them.

“Is that it? Do you have anything else to say?” He looked up at Roan; his eyes were muted, almost muddy blue as they searched Jared’s face for response. He could see the wet streaks down the man’s face as they ended as glittering drops amid the tuft of hair that showed above the neck of his shirt; his face was hard and his jaw clenched. Jared nodded and Roan stared at him, his expression seeming to grow more dark the longer he did. “So, it wasn’t enough for you to drive your wife off; you weren’t satisfied unless you could drive your family away from me too. You couldn’t be done until you drove off the threat.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “You are certainly thorough.”

Jared squeezed his hands behind his back. “What was I supposed to think? She didn’t run to her family or even her friends - she ran right to you and took Greg with her!”

“You were supposed to think things would be alright; at least they are safe with my friend, someone who would never hurt me or let something hurt my family.” He didn’t shout or even raise his voice; he just sounded defeated...empty. “That is, if it had been a friend; not some threat you’ve kept under thumb, near enough to watch but never to trust.” His eyes didn’t waiver as he stared into Jared’s.

“You are my frie-”

“No, Jared; you don’t get to say that anymore. I get to say what I am or need to be in a friendship. The guy who is sneaking around with your wife and letting you clothe his child as if it were your own...fails to meet whatever may be on that list.”

Jared swallowed and hugged himself. “It’s not like that. I didn’t stand around thinking you were doing something. It just came on when I got home and she’d left. I...I freaked out; I admit it but once I’d had the idea...I couldn’t do anything to make it go away.”

“Jared, do you remember all the things you said to me in the park?” He nodded. “This is the same. I’m not a criminal; there’s no blood on my hands and there’s no murder weapon. Fine, you were scared - that doesn’t give you the right to make me a villain. And, frankly, if you can - then you aren’t a friend to me.”

“Red, don’t do this. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Roan shook his head and snorted. “You didn’t mean to hurt your family when you cheated on them? You didn’t mean to hurt your wife when you told her you thought she was sleeping with someone else? When you disowned your child? Now you want me to believe you didn’t mean to hurt me when you said I was the guilty party for it all? I don’t understand what you think it means to hurt someone.”

“You don’t understand how desperately I just wanted it to all be better.” He took a step toward Roan who stood and stepped back up onto the porch, his hands were grabbing the air by his sides. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose your family; they were supposed to be with me!”

Roan’s head fell forward and he watched the top of his head as he shook it slowly. When he lifted his head looked down at Jared with nothing but bitterness in his eyes. “You’re right. They will never be my family as they are your family. And I was dumb enough to believe that shouldn’t matter. Now you’ve taken them from me and made your point.”

He held his arms out. “Red, I can’t be with my son; I am really in a bind.”

“Yeah, you need a friend. And, seemingly, so do I.” He turned and opened the door to his house. “Get off my lawn, Jared.”

Jared hugged himself as the door closed and he heard the deadbolt lock.

--
“The inventory and order sheets are on your desk; I need your signature on the payroll approval by Monday morning. And don’t forget to leave the security door unlocked when you leave; the cleaning service comes tomorrow.” Jared looked up from his computer at the older woman who was staring at him over her horned glasses. She was leaning into the doorway of his tiny office at the back of the shop.

“Sign the payroll; got it.” He reached for the stack of trays at the corner of his desk closest to the door and grabbed the stack of papers that were piled there. He’d been sitting at his computer and trying to search for a part one of the clients that day needed when she’d popped her head in on her way out.

She slung her purse over her shoulder and adjusted the bundle of envelopes she held against her chest. “Jared, don’t forget and lock the door again; you know they charge us double when they come out and can’t get in to clean.”

He looked up at her face. “Yeah, Gini, I got it. I won’t bolt the security door when I leave.” The woman pursed her lips before nodding and walked out of his office.

“I’ve got the deposits and I just set the answering machine so you shouldn’t get any more calls. Have a good weekend.” Her voice carried as she made her way to the front of the store.

“Yeah, have a good weekend Gini,” he called out after her as he found the form for the payroll and set the rest of the stack of papers back into his in-bin before turning to the dusty old copier to make a file copy. He wiped his hand over his face and stood to grab a cup of stale coffee as he waited for the noisy machine to warm up.

It was mid-October and the Fall holiday rush was underway, so the week had been a blur of customers, complaints, orders, call outs, and paperwork. He used to normally be leaving when his secretary did on a Friday night but as usual tonight he didn’t have anywhere to go so he’d just switch to shop clothes when he finished his desk work and try to move the backlog of cars through with the guys until he was too tired to work. Originally, he’d been one of the service mechanics so he didn’t really mind the time out in the shop; it was soothing to pit his mind against mechanical puzzles of mystery complaints and the inevitable consequences of the design choices of the manufacturers. It could be pretty dirty work but it was honest and impersonal; it was just him versus the machine. He’d taken over the management of the shop several years ago when the prior owner of the little ‘Speedy-Automotive’ franchise had a mild stroke and couldn’t move around as well. He knew all of the equipment, systems, and the local part vendors so it wasn’t a complete surprise when the former owner had decided to tap him on the shoulder and give him a shot to help him take care of things. Around the time Greg was on the way, the man had another stroke and was forced to retire; Jared had offered to run the shop for the man but Dustin had surprised him and offered him a contract to buy him out. The terms were easy enough to meet since the business was steady and they managed to turn a decent profit most months. He still owed a few more years of dividends before he’d be free and clear but Dustin never stressed him about it - He called it his second pension.

He walked back to his desk and let himself continue to process and shuffle the paperwork and orders from his desk to whatever filing cabinet, screen, or folder they needed to be entered into. He hated his current life without a family to go home to but, thankfully, the familiarity and order of the office details was a calming dance that kept him from sliding too far into his head. He thought about the look on Roan’s face the week before; it was just as sad as the one from Cheryl - It wasn’t like it was easy for him either. They didn’t understand how much he struggled with the certainty that they’d leave forever; that he wasn’t good enough to keep his family.

“Shit!” He looked at the pool of ink that was spreading across the check he’d been signing. So much for sliding too far into his head. He tossed the pen across his desk and threw himself back in his chair to rub his fists against his temples. Something about being away from his family, even Red, made everything look sharper, like some old mercury spotlight set everything in a glare; it set him on edge and made it hard to relax. He took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling.

“So, are you ready to talk about it yet?” He nearly jumped from his chair at the sound of the voice.

“Jesus, I thought you’d left!” He held onto his desk as he waited for his heart to slow down and looked up at her questioningly.

“I had to use the lady’s room but,” She took a seat in the chair across from his desk. “this isn’t about me. Jared, you’ve been working what, double shifts, for weeks now. What is going on? Is it money? The books look great for this time of year. Business is up over last year this time too…” She looked at him softly. “Is something up at home?”

He frowned and eyed her slowly before taking a heavy sigh and slumping in his chair until he was resting his forehead on the desk. “Yeah. My wife and I are living apart.”

He heard a snort. “She found out.” He looked up at her sharply. “What? She did; didn’t she?”

He frowned “How did you know?”

She snorted and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Does every man think he has the makings to be a secret agent?” she said dryly. “You playing with your phone at work; you taking short lunches and long breaks; you shifting your schedule around to make time to run out for an hour here and there. Jared it was obvious. When my husband was considering an affair, it took me a week to pin down the feeling and confront him about it. You, by comparison, were more obvious.”

He rubbed his hands together before nodding and sitting back in his chair. “You didn’t say anything?”

“Was I supposed to? What you do with your personal time is your business.” He sighed and nodded.

“So, yeah, she found out.”

“Cheryl doesn’t seem like the time to throw in the towel just like that…?” She cocked her head.

“Yeah, I made it worse.” She raised her eyebrows at him expectantly. “Uh...I freaked out and kind of...accused her of having an affair first.” Gini’s laugh rang out in the little office; he blushed and stared at his hands.

“Oh, Jared.” She shook her head. “So, what now?”

“I don’t know. I never meant to hurt anyone, certainly not my family.” She only nodded when he glanced up at her. “Now she won’t talk to me but she’s made it clear that I have to fix this. I have no idea what to do and this has been going on for over a month.”

“You’re not sleeping in the office or something are you?” She looked at him sharply.

“No, no, I got a rental.” She put her hand on his.

“You’ll get through this; you may just need a little help.” He licked his lips and nodded.

She shuffled in her purse for a moment. “Here, this is the office that Larry and I went to.” She slid a business card across his desk.

He looked at the slip of paper and threw his head back and closed his eyes. “I don’t need a shrink, Virginia.”

“That is a highly debatable matter of opinion.” He could hear the smile on her face. “What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity.” The woman laughed and he watched as she grabbed her sides.

“Jared, you are a man of many talents and good intentions; dignity is not one of them. Give him a call.” She stood and collected her things. “If there’s anything I can do, let me know - Don’t make me chase you down next time.” He nodded. “Good night. Go home. You’re stealing all of the boys’ overtime; if you work one more double-shift, your crew is threatening to mutiny.”

He chuckled. “They should work harder.” She waved over her shoulder as she left his office.

He sat staring at the chair where she’d been sitting until he heard the bell of the front door open and settle closed again.

--
“So, uh, doc?” he started, uncertain, and looked in askance over at the middle aged man who sat across from him in an unassuming chair.

“Tim is fine.”

“Sure, Tim then.” He rubbed his hands together and fidgeted a little on the edge of the love seat he was on. “How does this whole thing work?” The man’s face slipped into a practiced smile.

“Well, there are a lot of ways things can go but normally people start by telling me what’s going on in their lives and what they are struggling with after that we discuss possibilities of what might help them or some people wish to talk about what causes them to feel a particular way in the situation.” He looked Jared in the eye pointedly. “There really is no one right way for this to go.”

Jared nodded and rubbed his hands together. “Uh, OK.”

“Why don’t we start with why you to called me.”