A Brew in Time

by Robin Roseau

  “Is it always like this for you?”

  “Pretty much. We do interior work in the winter. Lots of bathrooms and kitchens. Closets.”

  “Closets?”

  “Shelving systems.”

  “Ah. Right.”

  “When we do a project, we do the roofing and gutters, too, but we don’t chase roofing projects.”

  “Why not?”

  “Do you want to be on a black roof in July?”

  I laughed. “Not particularly.”

  She flashed a smile. “Small roofing jobs aren’t bad, but big ones scare me. They’re more complicated, and the roofs are frequently steeper. People who do it every day are accustomed to handling the safety concerns. I’m happy to leave those jobs for others. We have ample work.”

  * * * *

  We reached a house in one of the older suburbs. There were already two other large pickups there, one with an attached trailer backed up to the garage. Jay-jay parked in the street, and I climbed down from her truck. She smiled at me and threw her arm over my shoulders. But then she pulled me back to the truck, rummaged on the back seat, and pulled out a floppy hat, pulling it down over my head.

  “I bet it’s stylish,” I commented.

  “I bet you burn easily,” she replied. “Lotion later, but let’s meet everyone.” And then, with her arm around me, she led me up the driveway and then around the side of the house. And that was where we met her crew.

  There were eight women, and I could tell at a glance what they did for a living. The clothing varied, although they all wore work boots. Five were in long work pants and three in shorts. Tops were a mix of one tank top, three tee-shirts, and four lightweight, long-sleeve shirts. They were all wearing hats of some sort, and work gloves.

  They turned to us, and I was looking at the most diverse group of women, ethnically speaking, than I had ever faced. Ah, to grow up in white suburbia.

  “Everybody,” Jay-jay boomed. “This is Lydia. If she doesn’t wimp out, she’ll be working through the summer with us. Lydia, that’s Ash.” She pointed to one of the two black women.

  “Ash?”

  “Short for Ashlyn,” the woman said, stepping forward while taking off her gloves. We shook briefly.

  “Did you bring it?”

  “I did.”

  “Gwyneth, shed the shirt.”

  “What?”

  Gwyneth was young, maybe a few years older than I was, wearing a black, cropped, tee shirt that said ‘Newbie’ on it. Ash stepped to the side and a moment later threw a new tee shirt at the woman. She caught it and looked at it, then held it up, laughing.

  Ex-newbie.

  “I’ve got four more for you,” Ash said. “They’re in the truck.”

  Gwyneth laughed again then shed her tee shirt. She was wearing a sports bra underneath and then pulled the new shirt into place. And then she threw her old shirt at me. “I’ll bring the other four tomorrow.”

  “Wait,” I said. “What?”

  “I’m so pleased to meet you, newbie,” Gwyneth said. “Does she get all my shit work, Jay-jay?”

  “Maybe not all of it,” Jay-jay confirmed.

  “Perfect.”

  “Put that on,” Jay-jay said with a gesture. I didn’t argue with her, but I was glad she’d had me change bras. Once I was suitably attired, the women smiling at me, I met Faye, Justine, Lupe, Syreeta, and two women named MD and MK.

  “MD?” I prompted.

  “Maria,” she said. She hooked her thumb. “Also Maria.”

  “Ah. Gotcha.”

  “All right. Ex-newbie, what’s the number one rule on the job site?”

  Gwyneth grinned. “Safety first.”

  “Excellent. And the second rule?”

  “Safety first.”

  Everyone grinned at that. “Newbie,” Jay-jay said. “What do you suppose the third rule is?”

  “Suck up to Jay-Jay?”

  She made a buzzing sound. It was Justine who said, “That’s number seven.”

  “Safety first?”

  “That’s right,” Jay-jay said. “There are a lot of safety rules. Rule One: You don’t go within five feet of any operating power tools until Ash or I sign you off on that particular tool. You don’t set foot on a ladder, either.”

  “Got it.”

  “Safety Rule Two. What is it, Justine?”

  “No dangling clothing or hair.” And then she tossed a scrunchie at me, hitting me in the face with it. I caught it and went to work on my hair.

  “Safety Rule Three, that I just invented,” Jay-jay said, “now that everyone is throwing clothing everywhere, is that the only thing we throw on the job site is soft clothing and smack-downs.”

  “Water bottles?” Ash asked. Jay-jay sighed. “Because you’re notorious for tossing water bottles at people.” Jay-jay sighed again.

  “Fine. And water bottles, when the receiver knows it’s coming. You’ve always been a smart-ass, Ash.”

  “But it’s a particularly fine smart-ass,” MD said, fanning herself. Ash gave a little bow and a grin. Then MD shifted her gaze. “Turn around, newbie-girl. Let us see what your ass looks like.”

  “I’m not going to show you my ass,” I told her.

  “You were looking at mine not five minutes ago.”

  “I was not!”

  Everyone else laughed. “Jay-jay,” MK said. “Are you sure her white ass is ready for us?”

  “My white ass is just fine. I wasn’t looking at MD’s backside. I was admiring Syreeta’s.”

  They didn’t just laugh at that; they guffawed. And then MK announced, “Maybe she’ll work out. Girl, you can take a little teasing, yes?”

  “I think we’ll find out,” I predicted. “You all can look all you want. Jay-jay, what’s the rule about slugging anyone who touches?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t,” she replied. “It would probably be a safety violation.”

  She looked around. “All right. I don’t pay you lot to jabber. Newbie, your job is to do whatever anyone else tells you and otherwise stay out of the way. When we get a break, I need someone to take her to buy a proper pair of work boots.” She pulled out her wallet and pulled out some cash, handing it to me.

  “I can buy my own boots,” I said.

  But she shoved the cash into my hand. “And something better than jeans,” she added. “Ash, send someone to Fleet Farm with her during a break.” Ash nodded. “All right. Where are we at?”

  * * * *

  They kept me busy, but I loved it. Yeah, it was the shit work. There was a lot of fetch and carry. Ash told me to make sure the job site stayed clean, and she showed me a magnet on the end of a pole for cleaning up nails. “You won’t have to worry about that today, but once we start nailing or screwing, you’ll go over the entire site before you’re done for the day.”

  I don’t know how many times I held what they called “the dumb end” of a measuring tape. Apparently, “the smart end” was the end with bigger numbers. The dumb end always read zero.

  In between the fetch and carry, they began teaching me safety rules, a little at a time.

  It was Syreeta that took me to Fleet Farm, driving Jay-jay’s truck for it. “Where’s your car?”

  “I drove with Justine,” she said. “We don’t want ten cars clogging the street. It tends to annoy the neighbors. Sometimes we meet in a nearby parking lot.” She glanced over. “Were you really checking out my butt?”

  I laughed. “No.”

  “That’s too bad, because I checked out yours.”

  I laughed again. “You may check it out all you want, but I have a girlfriend.”

  It was her turn to laugh. “You couldn’t handle me anyway.”

  I paused. “I didn’t check out your butt.”

  “So you said.”

  “I didn’t get past your shoulders and arms.”

  She laughed, then flexed the nearest one. She was truly stunning, and she grinned at me. “Have you ever seen anyone like me before?”

/>   “Black and beautiful? Yeah, but not often.”

  “White suburbia?”

  “Yeah. I mean, it’s not all white.”

  “You scared?”

  “Do you think all white girls are afraid of every black person they meet?”

  “No. I think you’re a baby dyke tossed in amongst us lion dykes. And I wasn’t sure about the baby dyke part until you mentioned your girlfriend.”

  “Syreeta, I’m sure if you wanted to scare me, you could. But until something like that happens, no, I’m not scared.”

  “You’re okay, newbie,” she declared.

  We pulled into the Fleet Farm parking lot. Syreeta parked then turned to me. “Tell me the truth. How are you doing?”

  “I think you mean something specific.”

  “Blisters?”

  “No.”

  “We’re going to buy you boots. You have to break them in, so wear them for an hour or two every day, increasing it to half a day by Friday or so. Next week, you can wear them full time.” She paused. “I actually keep several pairs and rotate, but Jay-jay probably didn’t give you enough cash for that.”

  “Why do you rotate?”

  “Because they get gross if I don’t let them air out.”

  “Eww.”

  “You won’t have that problem this week, but think about it.”

  We bought boots and then she showed me work pants. We bought two, one long, one short. “Jeans are terrible,” she said. “You’ll go through the knees in a day or two at the most, and they’re hot besides.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “You might not quite have enough.”

  “I have money,” I said.

  “All right.”

  * * * *

  It was work. It was definitely work. By the time Jay-jay brought me home, I was aching. In the driveway, she quietly asked, “Going to wimp out?”

  “No.”

  “I can tell you hurt.”

  “Do you hope I’ll wimp out, Jay-jay?”

  “No. You did better today that I thought. They teased you, but you teased back.”

  “I know I’m safe with your team, Jay-jay, but I would have been scared to death if this was some random group.”

  “You’re sweet,” she said. She grinned. “Need me to carry you into the house?”

  I laughed. “No, but I might need help climbing out of your truck.”

  She actually took me seriously, although I was solidly on the ground by the time she made it around to my side. “Make a bag tomorrow. Wear the boots but bring your shoes. And we don’t normally order food. Do you have a sports bottle?”

  “Yeah. Oh. Your hat.”

  “Keep it,” she said. “Ibuprofen. Maybe a soak.”

  “I will. Jay-jay? Thank you.”

  “Lydia, thank you for letting Karla and me treat you the way we do.”

  “It’s a hardship,” I said. “Hugs and chances to do things. It’s just terrible.”

  “Don’t belittle what I said.”

  I straightened up and looked her in the eye. “Jay-jay, you and Karla have always treated me so amazingly well. Thank you.”

  At that, she nodded. “6:30 tomorrow.”

  “Right. I’m going to get a car. You won’t have to drive me all summer.”

  “Jackie told me. Payday is twice a month, three business days after the fifteenth and first. You get paid from the official start time, or whenever you arrive, whichever is second, until the official quitting time, minus lunch. If you make it to Friday and are sure you’re not quitting, you’ll be able to commit to that car.”

  I grinned.

  * * * *

  To Janie: I hurt.

  From Janie: Poor baby.

  To Janie: I’d let you fondle my aching muscles.

  From Janie: Did you just invite me to dinner?

  To Janie: Yes. Let yourself in. I’m not moving.

  She arrived perhaps fifteen minutes later. I barely heard her, but then my bedroom door opened. “Hey.”

  “I can’t move.”

  She laughed, but she closed the door and stepped over. “How was it?”

  “I loved it,” I replied. I opened one eye and looked up at her. I tried giving her puppy dog eyes, which was sort of hard while lying flat on my stomach, but I did my best.

  “Poor baby,” she said again. “Did you want a massage?”

  “Yes.”

  “Take your shirt off,” she ordered.

  “Help me.”

  She actually had to roll me over herself, but she got the shirt off. I wasn’t wearing a bra anymore, and I rolled back onto my stomach and closed my eyes. “Firm or soft?”

  “Firm.”

  She set her hands on my back.

  It was, oh, perhaps ten minutes later when my door burst open. “You girls are not being subtle!” Then a pause. “Oh. Oh.”

  “God, Mom,” I said. “What did you think we were doing?”

  “From the moaning you were doing, I think you know exactly what she thought we were doing,” Janie said. “Hi, Merry. Someone’s being a baby.”

  “Rough day, honey?”

  “Mom, if Dad’s home, can we not have this conversation with the door open?” I asked.

  “Oh. Right.” I heard the door closed. “Rough day?”

  “It’s work,” I said. “But no, I’m not quitting.”

  “Don’t abuse Janie’s good nature,” she said. “Janie, are you staying for dinner?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Very good. Carry on.”

  After she left, Janie giggled. “Oh, that’s perfect. Busted, but we weren’t doing anything to be busted over. She’ll think twice before busting us next time.”

  “No, she won’t,” I said. “Oh, God, Janie. Yes. There. You’re wonderful.”

  “I know.” She giggled again.

  * * * *

  I felt a lot better by bedtime. And then I fell asleep before Janie even crawled into bed with me. But I woke later with a warm body beside me. In the dark, I smiled, then rolled towards her. “I love you,” I whispered.

  * * * *

  Tuesday was at least as hard as Monday. Mom took one look at me and pulled out a small bottle of Ibuprofen. “Put this in your bag with your other things.”

  I nodded.

  Janie texted me about quitting time, offering to come over.

  To Janie: Please, please, please.

  No one said anything when she spent a second night.

  Wednesday, I was a little better, but it would take the better part of the first two weeks before I didn’t hurt a little bit each night. Janie offered to come over and pamper me, but I called her. “Actually. Would you like a last-minute date?”

  “I don’t have a car. Mom is out and won’t be home until late.”

  “I’ll call you back,” I said. Two minutes later, with a promise from Mom, I called Janie back. “I’ll be at your place by six, but it isn’t a long date. Dinner somewhere. Then whatever you want to do, but I want to be home by ten at the latest.”

  “Okay. See you then.”

  We dressed; we each did. But I was still stunned when she opened her door. I usually was. “You’re so beautiful,” I blurted.

  She smiled broadly. “Kiss me, you fool.” She laughed. “That’s a movie quote.”

  She didn’t have to ask twice.

  We went to dinner, and then at the car afterwards, I asked, “Did you want to see a movie?”

  “I think you should take me home. We can hang out, and I’ll send you home on time.” And so that was what we did.

  Summer’s End

  All good things come to an end. The summer after my senior year of high school was the best I could manage. I loved my job with Jay-jay. The other women teased me to no end, but they taught me so much, too. There was one more notable workday, and I want to talk about it.

  It was late in July when Jay-jay stepped to my side and handed me a bottle of water. “Clean up a bit. We’re going for a ride.”
/>   “Did I do something wrong?”

  “Nope.” She raised her voice. “We’ll be back in an hour or two.”

  We both climbed into Jay-jay’s truck. Once we were rolling, I asked, “Where are we going?”

  “We have to see a man about a thing.”

  “Cute,” I told her. “You’re really not going to tell me?”

  “I wasn’t going to bring you, but I decided at the last minute. We’re going to meet with one of my clients and an architect.” She glanced over at me. “Sorry.”

  “Sorry?”

  “I should have warned you. You’ll notice I have on my good shirt.”

  “I’ll just tell them you don’t pay me enough to buy decent clothing.”

  She snorted but then said, “I’d rather you didn’t. They might not realize you’re teasing.”

  “I probably wouldn’t have,” I admitted. “I’ll shut up now.”

  “You’re fine, Lydia. I just-” She broke off. “I’m usually pretty confident.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No. Everything is fine.” She glanced over. “Honest.”

  “You’re a good business owner and a warm, wonderful person,” I said. “You run a good crew, and your clients have all been exceedingly happy with the jobs we do.”

  “I know.”

  “But sometimes you need someone else to tell you.”

  She paused then said, “Yeah, probably.”

  “What’s the job?”

  “Renovation. Old house in the city. It’s crumbling. The engineers for the architect have been over it. It’s not quite a teardown.”

  “Sounds like a lot of money.”

  “Or I can lose my shirt.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Learn.”

  “I can do that.”

  We arrived twenty minutes later. I felt entirely out of place in my grubby work clothes, but Jay-jay was only slightly better. She was, after all, wearing her good shirt.

  Yes, that was a joke. Jay-jay cleaned up as well as anyone.

  In the lobby, Jay-jay was greeted rather exuberantly by a man and woman who looked old, but probably weren’t that old. Older than Mom and Dad but not as old as Great-Aunt Mabel. Then Jay-jay introduced me to Molly and Miller Coates. “She’s here to learn,” she added. “She was swinging a hammer a half hour ago. Please excuse the clothes.”