Hot Storage

by Mary Mead

  “I will,” I answered. “I’ll be very careful.” Time to get my resume ready. Again.

  Paul winked at me before he slid behind the wheel and started the car. He mouthed ‘don’t worry’ as he drove by us. His mother didn’t bother to wave.

  “That went well,” Burke said from the tailgate, where he sat swinging his legs.

  “How would you like to kiss my pearly pink fanny,” I said, starting back to the other unit.

  “I would love it,” he said behind me. “Thought you’d never ask.”

  My temper was enough to fuel moving the cartons out of the unit and returning it to its empty state. When the move was complete I grabbed a red over lock from the cart and locked the empty one. No more yellow tags.

  I checked inside her unit to be sure things were as she ordered before relocking it. Looking around for her lock I saw it on the ground the other side of her car. Sparkling in the sun were her keys, one still stuck in the lock. I sighed, picked them up, locked her unit and took a seat on the cart, dangling the key ring.

  Burke leaned in and kissed me, his lips warm on mine. “You handled that nicely,” he said. “Shove over, I’ll drive.”

  I slid over and he got in and started the cart.

  “Why didn’t you stop her?” I asked when we were headed for the office.

  “Me? I don’t work here, remember? I can’t tell anyone what to do. I am strictly an observer. And a sweeper.” He grinned at me. “And a dinner companion.”

  I sighed again. “You seemed to know her.”

  “I do know her. I’ve known Colleen for a long time. I told you. I went to school with Paul.”

  “Do you know the parents of every kid you went to school with?”

  “No. I don’t.” He made the turn and pushed the remote to open the gates. “Paul and I spent a lot of time together in school. Same teams, that kind of thing. I got to know his parents. When I’m in town I always go by and say hello.”

  Back at the office a couple was waiting for me so I went to work. Burke walked back to the lot. While I was showing and renting the unit we had just emptied the UPS truck dropped off three cartons.

  The new locks arrived.

  Mrs. Murphy’s car was still in the back so her return was assured. I didn’t want to share the lock switch idea so I lugged the new cartons into the kitchen. Grateful for a strong back after moving boxes of books and locks all morning I made a pot of coffee and got out the Kindle.

  It was the fourteenth, a slow time of the month and I was grateful as I carried my coffee to the counter. One page into the story and Burke came in the front door and took a seat at the counter.

  “You got around the old lady this morning,” he said first thing. “You think she’s gonna rat you out?”

  I set the Kindle aside. “For what? Taking away that unit? Who cares? I’m about done with this job anyway.”

  “Whoa, babe, that sounds serious. What’s wrong? You don’t think they’ll really fire you, do you? No way. They like you, I told you that. Paul saw what was going on. Besides, who’s gonna run this place if you leave? Papa and Paul don’t have time and heaven knows Trick isn’t about to do it.”

  I sighed. “I like the job, Burke. I like it a lot. It’s a case of too many roosters and not enough hens. Although the one hen I have is a handful. I don’t need the job. I have options.”

  “Did something else happen? While I was gone?”

  Did I want to tell him about Paul? No, they were friends. “It’s an easy job,” I said. “Most of the customers are nice, they don’t spend a lot of time here. Not like working in a store where there’s people all the time.”

  “You don’t like people?”

  I shook my head. “Not especially. I’m comfortable on my own. This job gives me a lot of time to myself. I like that.”

  “I’d hate it,” Burke said with a smile. “I like people, like having them around.”

  “Different strokes,” I said.

  “How come you’re single, Marlie? You’re a good looking woman. I know for a fact you’re warm and responsive, so how come there’s no Mr. Marlie hanging around?”

  “I’ve been a Mrs. It didn’t take.”

  “Aha, thereby hangs the tail. What happened?”

  “No big deal, Burke. It didn’t work out so we called it quits.”

  He shifted forward, leaning on his folded arms. “I repeat, what happened? You’re beautiful, smart and funny. What didn’t he like?”

  “You assume he left,” I said. “Other way around.”

  Burke considered me, his brown eyes warm, a half smile on his face. “Marlie, any man you gave your heart to would be a fool to let you go. What happened? Did he find someone else?”

  I took a deep breath and blew it out. “You want to know? Okay. He liked outdoor sports too much. So I left and filed for divorce. End of story.”

  “Outdoor sports? That makes no sense at all,” Burke scoffed. “Like hiking or fishing? What kind of outdoor sports?”

  “Bob and Jack and Steve. You want me to continue?”

  It took a minute for Burke to get it. When he did he patted my hand. “Give it another chance, babe. You are not built to live alone.”

  I laughed. “Is that an invitation?”

  “No,” he said quickly. “Not what I meant.” Then he saw my smile and sat back. “Not that I wouldn’t accept one if you put it out there.”

  I smiled at Burke. “I’m over it, Burke. Have been for quite a while. I appreciate your concern for my social status but I’m good with it. I’m comfortable. I can stay up late or go to bed early, I eat what I want when I want, I don’t have to worry about someone else and I control the channel changer.”

  “Is that why you reject my advances?”

  I laughed again. “What advances, Burke? I’m not an idiot although sometimes I wonder about that, too. You’re a good looking man, and you know it. You have a great personality. You are also doing a very dangerous job, one that takes you all over and I think you enjoy that part, the travel. You’re not the kind of guy to settle down.”

  “You might be surprised,” he said softly. “You don’t know the real me.”

  “Okay,” I nodded. “Let me put it this way. The ‘you’ I know, and like by the way, is a handsome, warm, funny guy whose company I enjoy. You know that. For me, that’s good enough. I don’t want anything more.”

  He considered that for a minute, his eyes wandering over my face. “I think you do,” he said softly, almost a whisper. “We’ll see who’s right.” He stood up and pulled out his keys. “I have a meeting this afternoon. See you later?”

  “I’ll be here,” I said.

  He left and I went to the cameras. Mrs. Murphy’s car still sat in aisle two.

  I wanted to get the new locks on right away but I didn’t want Mrs. M. to catch me. She would find out soon enough. I had planned to do it after the gates closed. If Burke was going to be around I didn’t want him to catch me either. With a sigh I decided to put the locks off another day. I busied myself making a list of the empty units in numerical order, to speed up the process.

  It was almost closing time when I saw Paul drive through the gate. He dropped his mother at her car and left immediately. I got her keys, got the cart and took them out to her. She was digging around in her purse when I reached her.

  I stopped the cart and climbed out, holding the keys over my head. “I found them,” I called, approaching the car. “You dropped them.”

  She turned and gave me a sour look. “I did not drop them,” she said. “You must have forgotten to give them back when you moved those books. Well, open it up. I want to be sure you did as I instructed.”

  I used her keys to unlock the unit, holding the door for her.

  “Tell me again why I don’t have lights in here,” she said, stepping inside.

  “You have lights in your large unit. The boys put them in for you.”

  “That’s right,” she nodded. “And I don’t have them here becau
se?”

  “You’ll have to check with the boys, ma’am. I think it had something to do with the wiring.”

  “I’ll tell Patrick to fix it,” she said, doing a turn. “I can’t work in this gloom. I want to see the other unit. Maybe the light is better in there.”

  “I’m so sorry, I rented that unit this afternoon. I told you it was taken.”

  She put a manicured hand on her hip. “Why would you do that? You knew I wanted that one.”

  “I get paid to rent the units. That was available.”

  “I want one that size. On that side of the aisle. The light will be better.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’ll put your name on the list.”

  “The list? That was the only large one available?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “I’ll talk to the boys,” she smiled and held out her hand for her keys. I handed them to her and watched as she got in her car and left, leaving the unit door wide open and the lock on the ground. I locked up and went up front. Closing time was not coming fast enough.

  The cart carries more than passengers. There’s several brooms, dust pans and trash bags, along with a box of tools. Another box contains the red overlocks and the yellow tags as well as oil spray and graphite for sticky locks.

  Back at the office I spent the remainder of the afternoon with the new locks and a black permanent marker. We use the circular locks, the ones with the keyhole in the center. They are the best in the business when it comes to storage lockers – sturdy, short hasp and very hard to cut, even with the diamond bit drill they are hard to get off.

  The new ones were identical to the old ones, a duplicate of a previous order. Using the black marker I drew a small circle around the key hole, just outside of the chrome. No one would notice unless they laid the old and the new side by side. I marked both the red and the chrome. When they were all marked I loaded them on the cart and went out to do my rounds.

  At every empty unit I pulled off the yellow tab and replaced it with two locks, one red and one chrome. The unit now looked like all the other overlocks – a customer’s lock overlocked with a bright red one. The difference being these chrome locks were also mine. I could unlock and remove both when I rented the unit. At a glance, the empty units were now camouflaged.

  Back at the office I changed the pins in the map. There is a site map of the entire facility on the wall. We use it to show customers the location of their unit as well as the flow of traffic, the rest room, and the exits. It’s a simple system. The map is on a large corkboard marked with push pins. A green pin means available, a yellow pin means needs repair. A single glance tells me how many vacancies I have and how many need repairs. Beats having to use the computer and run three different reports.

  Fortunately Mrs. Murphy rarely came into the office, usually she just pulled up to the unit she wanted and honked. Or waved at the camera on her way in and I followed her in the cart. She was accustomed to having someone load or unload for her and she was entitled. She was an owner and a lady of a certain age older than my own. Had she ever used the map she could have driven to every empty unit in the facility by reading the green pins.

  Satisfied with my day’s work I added one more trick before I went upstairs. I snipped a couple of hairs and stuck them across both front and back doors. If someone opened either door I would know.

  First thing Thursday I checked the doors and found both hairs still in place. I lifted them carefully and set them aside to be reused. I might not catch anyone with this childish trap but I would know if someone was prowling around at night.

  Next up was changing the door locks. I did the back door first, then followed that with the door to the garage, leaving the front door last. Of course the minute I got both door knobs out Patrick Murphy drove up.

  “Hey, Red,” he called as he walked up to the door. “What’cha up to?”

  My cheeks warmed up although I avoided a full blown blush. “Good afternoon,” I said. “What can I do for you?”

  He shoved his hands in his back pockets and grinned at me. “More like what I can do for you.” He stood close and looked at the hole in the front door where the knobs used to be. “Gonna be hard to lock like that,” he said. “You gonna just tie it with a bungee cord?”

  I dusted my hands on my jeans. “I have new ones, right there on the desk.”

  He looked first, then went over and lifted the plastic blister pack. “This gonna fit? Did you measure it first?”

  I hoped he didn’t hear my eyes roll. “Yes, sir, I did.” I took the package from him and pried it open with the screwdriver, careful not to drop the hardware pack of bolts.

  Patrick turned back to the door and squatted in front of it. “Hand me that screwdriver,” he said.

  I did as he asked and watched as he ran it around the inside of the cutout hole. When that was done he held out his hand, palm up.

  “What?”

  “Give me the knobs, the lock.”

  I handed over the parts to the door and watched as he matched them, checked them and inserted them through the hole in the door.

  Like a surgeon he said, “Screwdriver” and I handed it over. In minutes he had the new doorknobs installed.

  Standing, he looked at me. “Key?”

  I handed him one of the two and twisted the other onto my keyring. He cocked an eyebrow at me before he tried the key. He fiddled with it, checking it out both open and closed, then closed it and turned back to me. He held the key up and dangled it in front of me. “Is this for me?”

  For no earthly reason I blushed. I felt the heat climbing my neck and turned away. Too late. Patrick’s robust laugh filled the office, making my ears flame. “That is the damnedest thing I have seen in a long time,” he said with a wide smile. “You are the first woman I have seen blush since third grade when my teacher walked into the boys bathroom by accident.”

  “I’m so happy I amuse you,” I said. “It’s not like I do it on purpose.”

  He was instantly serious, his brows gathering over those bright blue eyes.

  “Hey, lady, I was teasing you. Lighten up. It’s a compliment.”

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “Let me start over. Is this key for me?”

  And I blushed again, the heat filling my face as I watched him trying not to laugh, his eyes dancing as he clamped his lips closed.

  I took a deep breath and looked at me feet, counting to ten.

  “I’ll have duplicates made for the family,” I said, holding out a palm for the key.

  He folded his fingers around the key and palmed it. “I can do that,” he said and stuck the key in the pocket of his jeans. “How about the back door? Do we need to change that out, too?”

  I shook my head. “No, I already did those, both the back door and the door to the garage.”

  He looked at me and the laughter was gone, his eyes cold and intent. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why are you changing all the locks? Is there a problem? Something I should know?”

  “It’s a preventative measure,” I answered. “I should have done it when I first started here. No telling how many of the old keys are floating around. I’ll have the new ones copied and see that you have them.”

  He held his palm out. “I told you I’d do that. Where are the others?”

  I went around the counter to the desk drawer and pulled out the envelope where I had put the other keys. I handed it to him.

  He felt through the paper and looked at me. “There’s only two keys?”

  “One for each door,” I said. “Do you want me to mark them for you?”

  “No need for that. Are these the only keys? The new locks came with only one key?”

  “No, sir. I have one of each,” I patted the key ring on my belt.

  He considered me for a couple of minutes. “Those are the only others?”

  “Yes, sir. Each lock came with two keys. I have one and you now have the others.”

  “Sir is m
y father. My name is Patrick.”

  I nodded again.

  “Can you say that?”

  “Yes, Patrick, I can say it. Is there anything else?”

  “Well,” he drew his brows down and frowned at me. “Actually, Miss Montoya, you could do something for me.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said and bit my tongue. “Patrick,” I amended. “What can I do for you?”

  “Blush,” he said with a grin.

  And I did. I felt the flush climbing up my neck, all the way to my hairline.

  Patrick laughed long and loud, the sound filling the office. He almost stopped once, then looked at me and was off again. He laughed until his eyes were moist and he had to wipe them.

  I went over to my desk and sat down, waiting for the hilarity to end.

  He came to the counter and sat across from me.

  “I am so sorry,” he said. “I can’t resist. I’ll try not to do it again.” He said, then his lips quivered. “Red.” He was off again, another rolling belly laugh.

  My cheeks flamed and I spun around in the chair to look out the window.

  He chuckled, snorted, laughed and gasped for another five minutes while I watched the hummingbirds dive bomb the feeder outside the window. Another minute passed before I heard him move. When I heard the front door open I chanced a look at him.

  He was sober and looked contrite. “I’ll get these keys duped this afternoon. How many do you need?”

  “I have all I need,” I said. “You’ll need keys for your dad and your brother.”

  “What about the weekend guy? Won’t he need copies?”

  Did I want Steve to have copies? I hadn’t decided on that yet, assuming he could use mine. “Yes, I guess,” I said. “One of each.”

  Patrick opened the door and looked at me for another long minute. “I’ll have them tomorrow,” he said. “Red.” His laugh followed him like the tail of a kite.

  I said some really rude, unkind words under my breath and kicked the trash can before closing up and heading home. Luckily for them, none of the guys crossed my path that night. It was peanut butter and jelly, a hot shower and an early night with the Kindle.