by Leanne Davis
I spend a lot of my time just observing him, and seeing how precise he is in his measurements and operation of the fragile mechanisms of the complicated machinery. The HVAC installers need an understanding not only of the equipment they install, but also the necessary tools to maintain them. Manual dexterity is also a necessary skill, one which I naturally excel at. My fingers are rather small, so I have no trouble manipulating tiny parts and reaching into confined spaces. I could do well at is this part of the job description… if I were going to stay on in this field. But of course I’m not going to do that. This is a summer job. This is to pay back an expensive mistake I made. This is a way to fill the gap between college and whatever my real job is going to be. In many ways I see this as my punishment.
Perhaps my favorite part of this job is watching Dad work. It’s amazing to me to see how his brain figures out the complicated machinery, especially when he has to troubleshoot a problem that seems to have no fix. But he always finds a way. There are so many interactive parts with the HVAC systems and he’s excellent at tracking down the most obscure problems or issues, and finding creative ways to fix them.
In addition to my dad, most of the other employees are willing to accept my lack of strength because they appreciate the small spaces and miniscule equipment I can handle.
There was a collective gasp of surprise at my presence on the first day I arrived to work. I soon learned there aren’t a lot of women in the industry.
After the first month on the job, we are driving between jobs one day and I ask, “How come you never encouraged or suggested that any of us girls work with you? I believe if we’d been sons instead of daughters, you’d have been grooming us since birth to take over your company someday.” We had just finished some warranty work that Dad always personally handles. He guarantees his installations and labor for one year and the manufacturer parts are usually ten years. The warranty work is more dynamic. Knowing how the systems work and when and how they were installed are the only clues my dad needs. He solves the problem by tracing it backwards from the complaint. I like to help him with those mysteries.
My dad shoots me a look, raising his eyebrows. His mouth opens, shuts, and then compresses into a thin line. “Uh. I don’t know. I have no idea how to answer that. None of you three girls were ever interested.”
“You never asked us. You never talked about it. You never said, ‘My daughters will one day work for me and eventually take over Hendricks Heating and Cooling Systems.’ It’s because we were girls and not boys.” I cross my arms over my chest defiantly as the air from the cracked window blows over me. I glare at him, tacitly accusing him of sexism. “It’s because there are almost exclusively men in that trade and you don’t think we could do it.”
He scratches his head and his eyes suddenly become laser-focused on the road. He shifts his weight around and I’m convinced he’s very uncomfortable with my questions and my valid but tender points.
“I guess you’re right. I—I didn’t. I never thought you’d want to do what I do with your lives.” He tips his head my way. “I didn’t mean I thought you couldn’t do it, I guess I assumed you wouldn’t want to.”
“Because we’re girls.”
He finally mutters and sighs. “Well… I’ll be goddamned.” He’s almost talking to himself now as he shakes his head, saying, “Shit.”
“Don’t deny it.”
“I wasn’t going to. Just now, I finally realized that’s exactly what I did. I wasn’t even conscious of it, Emily. I… yeah, the trades are totally run by a majority of guys. Men. It never occurred to me you girls might want to join them when you grew up. I didn’t even know I was doing that.”
His willingness to confess his stereotyping and chauvinism surprises me. I must admit it never once occurred to me either; I had no desire to follow in his professional footsteps. Not until I was desperate and sorely lacking a job, with an expensive wedding to repay and no other plausible means of decent employment. He sighs, obviously agitated. “It’s just a way to make a living to me, Emily. It wasn’t something I ever dreamed about. I fell into the industry and stayed. I worked for a corporation that built HVAC units. When we moved to Pullman so your mother could finish her doctorate, I worked for a company installing them. I had to take a huge downgrade in pay. When we came back to Ellensburg and your mom started her practice, I decided to open my own HVAC company, I had enough knowledge of the units as well as the installation, and I learned everything else as I did it. You claim having a career in journalism and writing stories is your dream. Stories that reflect passion and hope. But I had to provide you three with the opportunity to achieve your dreams. I never looked at it as some kind of legacy I planned to pass on. I’m sorry. I hope it wasn’t subconsciously because you were girls. I prefer to think it’s because I don’t love the industry that much and can’t see why anyone else would. But most likely, you’re right, I was exhibiting some sexism by not encouraging you and your sisters to do this and someday take over the company.”
“You’re a small business owner and deserve a huge amount of respect for your success.”
“Yes. But again, it was simply a means to an end for me. A job. Never my life’s ambition. So… I guess I didn’t think it was meaningful enough to pass along that value. After spending some time doing so, is it yours?”
I squint my eyes. My righteous indignation suddenly fades. “No. I mean, I wouldn’t say I’d love to spend the next thirty years doing this for a living.”
He smiles. “That’s how I feel about it. In fact, I’m thinking of retiring in the next few years, now that you’re all done with college and I thought at least two weddings were finally paid for.” He gives me a small smile.
I tilt my head down, smiling but chagrinned. Melissa, no doubt, will get married in the next year or so, and Christina got married two years ago. Her wedding was rather small, compared to the one I nearly had.
“You didn’t foresee it as a legacy? Our name is on it. What about Max? After he graduated, he was searching for something to occupy his mind and body.”
“Max needed to go to college. He had some confidence issues to work out there. And Christina has planned to be a speech therapist since she was in her teens. Then Melissa… well, come on, Emily. Not a lot of job-seeking or career-planning with her. I know she has ADHD and why she had so much trouble, but at the time, I just hoped she’d work. I didn’t picture her doing physical work and succeeding at it. So perhaps because of that, by the time you were ready, I swear to God, it just didn’t occur to me.”
“Maybe if you talked about it differently. With pride. If you’d been proud that we could work with you, maybe it would have been ingrained in our thoughts. Broadening our scope of what we could possibly do.”
He nods. “Point taken. I think you’re correct in that. But I wanted you to go to college. Maybe because it broadened you even more. It’s common for a parent to want their kids to have all the choices in the world, and college seemed to offer that. Maybe looking back, it was a short-sighted view, but it’s what I envisioned. And what your mom did too, by the way. She never encouraged me to leave a Hendricks HVAC legacy either,” he adds with just enough self-defense in his tone to make me giggle.
“So you’re both sexist?” I ask, pushing good-naturedly on his arm. He finally glances at me with a real grin.
“Yes, we both are. Why? Do you want to talk about this? Would you consider doing this? You surely must realize a summer job isn’t the same as a career. You still have a lot to learn. But daughter, who believes I didn’t teach her about it because she wasn’t born a son, would you like to learn my trade? I’ll teach you everything I know about it. You already work beside me and the best workers I can employ, and if you’re truly interested and proficient, someday, you could take it over after me.”
“What did you intend to do with it if you retire?”
“Sell it.”
“Oh.”
“But I’d give it to you. So there, my daug
hter, I fully believe in you. I know you could do this, most likely much better than me, because you’re more ambitious than I am.”
I instantly feel as if I’ve sucked on a lemon. I wasn’t expecting an offer like that from my ceaseless grilling. Yes, I set out to prove a point to my dad, which I did. But he turns it around and makes one to me that is just as valid. Plus, damn, I like him. He doesn’t stand on principle. He listens and learns, although he might be macho. He might appear like the typical cocky, manly man, but he listens to us and thinks about what we say, especially what my mom says, and even Max and Seth. He welcomes views outside of his own and tries to, at the very least, understand, and often changes his original opinions.
We pull into our destination and dad parks the truck, turning it off.
“I’m not saying no and I’m not saying yes. I’ll keep working. But I don’t fully know yet what I want as a permanent career. So I’d like to ponder the option.”
He smiles and turns towards me, offering his hand. “Deal.”
I slip my fingers into his warm grasp. We shake and he smiles, looking into my eyes and saying, “It would actually be an honor to work with you, and have you at the helm of something I created. It just never occurred to me that you’d want to. And you know what? I should have asked you. I should have asked every one of you girls. Because I think you’re absolutely correct. I would have asked a son. I can’t excuse it. I’ll just tell you the opportunity is yours if you want it.”
“Thank you, Dad. But I don’t know what I want.”
“That’s fully understandable. It happened to me before too. After we first moved here, and I was out of the Army, which I would never have left if not for your mom. That’s a fact, not a reason for blame. She needed me more than I needed the Army. It was my decision and I still stand by it after all these years. But once we moved here, I didn’t know what the hell to do with myself or even what I wanted to do. We built the house and your mom was working for Noah and she started school. I watched her grow and change, seeking the dreams she never had been allowed to indulge. I was happy for her but I wasn’t happy. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I took a whole year off. Did you know that? I didn’t work a real job for a whole year. We had money from her father, the general, and we lived on that. I used it because I believed we were owed it. We bought the land with it and built our house. I eventually got a job and found my way and accepted it, but it took me quite some time. I think that’s where you are right now.”
“When I was poised to walk down the aisle, I had these flashes that this was my entire future, being trapped here in Ellensburg for the rest of my life. Doing what? Being Harrison’s wife? I don’t want to get married obviously. So I ran. But I’m still here in Ellensburg and I don’t know if I want to leave or stay. But a friend told me that all he has ever dreamed about is having his family all together in one town and safe. That is his life’s dream. It was a stunning juxtaposition. I ran away from it as if it were the worst fate possible because I didn’t get to follow my dreams and for so many others, having a home in a safe environment is their only dream. Having a family like I have. Living the lifestyle I live.”
“This friend has endured harder life circumstances than you have?”
“Yes. He’s here without citizenship. No immediate family. I don’t know much else.”
“The older I get, the less I know. Things I think I am doing right, like providing my three daughters the chance to go to college, also prevent me from asking them if they’d like to work with me and someday take over my business. Do you see? Sometimes, seeing the world through another’s perspective teaches us that the things we think are right, might not be entirely. I don’t know the answer, Emily. Just be aware of others. Learn. Listen. Grow. I can’t tell you what you should or should not do, but just because someone else can’t follow his dream doesn’t mean you shouldn’t, you know? Different circumstances and life privileges change the equation. It’s all unfair, but it’s also reality. Your life is already better than your mom’s. She’d been raped repeatedly by the time she was sixteen. You weren’t. But that doesn’t mean your problems, concerns, thoughts and experiences aren’t just as valid and important. It doesn’t mean you don’t have real problems. You understand?”
“Nothing. I understand nothing, but what you just said makes complete sense.”
“Yes, well, that is part of life, too.”
We share a small smile. We’ve always gotten along well. I rarely remember arguing or even disagreeing with him. Or my mom either, for that matter. I’m not confrontational, which is perhaps best illustrated by my dash from the wedding pulpit. I have to be pushed to the very brink before I can make it happen. I have the type of personality that can mold around those I’m with. Not to say I’m a chameleon, I just have a… I don’t know, gift or understanding of how to best get along with people, even if I don’t like or agree with them. I can listen too. I can find alternate ways to word things so I sound sympathetic even if I’m not fully in agreement. I’m the least vocally resistant of all my sisters when it comes to my parents. And yes, I was always the easiest, until this summer, for them to get along with.
“Do you ever hire workers without checking their paperwork? Pay them under the table?”
His eyeballs dart my way and then return forward. “You know, that’s pretty prevalent in many of the trades.”
“Is that your way of telling me it’s not just you? If the majority does it, it makes it right?”
“Maybe not right, but it’s often done. In some trades, it’s more prevalent than in others, for example, insulation and sheet metal work. It’s such hard work that sometimes contractors have a hard time filling the positions. Sometimes, I need extra workers but only for a day or a week and I pay them without reporting it. They don’t say where they come from, and I don’t ask.”
“So they’re illegally working here likely?”
“Yes.” He peaks my way as if trying to gage my reaction. “Does that shock you?”
“To be honest? I’ve never considered it before. I figured it happened often in farm work, but didn’t think about it in relation to what you did.”
“Sometimes, it’s just good economics. I have to keep my costs down to outbid other companies. You will soon learn, construction is either feast or famine. Too much work, or not enough. It’s so rarely paced out and steady. I figure by staying in business, I employ more people and contribute to the economy than I do by sometimes hiring workers I don’t fully vet. Sometimes it’s more about survival.”
“Would you hire someone that I think would be a good worker?”
“The friend you just spoke about?”
“Yes, the friend. We met on a fluke, but perhaps…”
“If I need more help. I’ll let you know if it comes up.” I nod. I don’t have a clue if Ramiro needs work. I haven’t seen or talked to him since the day after my wedding. But I’ve thought of him often. I wish I’d gotten his phone number. I want to go by his place but I chicken out each time I reconsider it. But I want to see him again. I like him. I found him different and interesting. Something lacking in the brief scope of my life.
Days later after I finish work I run into town after I brush my hair and clean up. I have some shopping to do when I come around the corner of building and run smack into Harrison and two of his friends.
My entire body goes still. I jerk backwards and straighten my spine. Our gazes meet and a subsequent blush fills my face. I drop my eyes to the ground.
“Well, if it isn’t the bitch who wasted five years of my life.”
“What are you doing in town? Why don’t you just die, you little cunt?” his friend, Bobby, adds.
I hunch my shoulders, refusing to indulge my righteous indignation and defend myself. I’m going to leave them and escape, right now. I’m trying to pass around them when the third guy, Jamie, whom I used to know quite well, steps to the side to block me in. His height does the job. I step to the other side, annoyed. I can’
t get past them. It’s a juvenile move. So rude. And it makes me feel small. I know that. I am not afraid. I mean, it’s Harrison and his puerile friends. I don’t have to fear them.
But I’m forced to step back and Jamie grabs my arm. “Where are you headed?”
“Home,” I say, jerking my arm away. I don’t like this. They are surrounding me and using their physical strength and numbers to intimidate me. I push him away. I shouldn’t have let him grab me, but he has and now, I’m stuck here. I know these guys. I hung out with these guys, and we laughed and joked and gossiped. One attended Eastern with us. They were once my friends, and wouldn’t hurt me. I know that.
But a weird, unsettling feeling ripples through me. It’s so jarring and disconcerting to feel trapped. I’ve never been strong-armed before. If they were strangers, I’d be screaming my head off for help, fearing I was in real danger. I don’t fear them, however, since I have the creeping suspicion that they are just angry for Harrison, who’s acting out of hurt.
“What a little cunt. Did you plan it all along? Was that the game? Humiliate him, keep him strung along so you could go be a little whore?” Jamie says accusingly.
I glance at Harrison, tacitly pleading for him to be, well, him. But he remains stony-faced, silent, and by saying nothing, he is giving them permission. I can’t get my arm loose. I step back and feel another body that is hard and male and much bigger than me. His arm circles around my waist.
Adrenaline kicks in. Using my foot, I kick backwards very hard and hit a shin. I slam my knee forward and hit Jamie right in the balls. Jamie’s fingers let me go as he screams and cups himself, falling forward. I don’t wait. I dart away from them, running as fast as I can. My heart is racing and my hands start shaking when I finally reach my car. I get in and lock it. I grip the steering wheel, breathing hard. I can’t believe they did that. Or the things they said. And Harrison just stood there while his friends manhandled me. It’s so wrong. My hands shake. My stomach recoils and I fear I might throw up. I shift my car into gear and speed home, unwilling to stay around for more abuse.